My mom wasn't thrilled, but it didn't take me too long to get over the fact that my new boyfriend doesn't go to church. In fact, he pretty much thinks everything in the Bible is a fairy tale, and he wishes I'd stop quoting things from The Purpose-Driven Life to him all the time. Anyway, my question is, why is Mr. Atheism such a hypocrite in the sack? If he didn't shout "Oh, God" a dozen times before doing his imitation of a beached trout, I would think he was faking it.
Remember what the big guy says in the Bible: "Son of man, there were two women, the daughters of one mother; they played the harlot in Egypt.... They became mine, and they bore sons and daughters." In other words, scholars are increasingly realizing what a randy, ribald raconteur is the righteous resurrecter. Partly, this change of view is occurring because researchers have admitted that an omniscient God, by definition, must have better global access to 24-hour live porn than a teenage hacker with high-speed Internet access and his mother's credit-card number. Now, I may still be able to use a condom as a condominium, but eventually I hope to test out these theories myself, and when I do, it won't surprise me in the least to find that when my, er, booster rocket goes for orbit, a certain co-pilot has taken over the controls.
Got a moral quandary? E-mail Jimmy at email@example.com.
It Was No Nuremberg
Round two of the meeting between an Overland Park rabbi and an Olathe Nazi wasn't nearly as volatile as the first, but at least we snagged an interview with the skinhead.
In April, Rabbi David Fine threw a cup of Starbucks coffee in the face of Steven Boswell, a member of the National Socialist Movement, as Boswell was escorting a buddy through KCI. The two traded words, and a scuffle ensued. At the time, Boswell was wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with the Nazi flag and a swastika pendant around his neck. But when he showed up in municipal court to face his disorderly conduct ticket, he wore a modest black suit and black tie and was accompanied by his tattooed wife and young daughter, both in happy pink sundresses.
Nonetheless, he was recognized by Rabbi Fine, who whispered, "That's him! That's him!" to his fellow yarmulke-clad benchwarmers in Courtroom F of Kansas City's Municipal Court. But the legal fireworks failed to ignite: The city dismissed charges against both the rabbi and the Nazi, and each was free to leave.
Boswell, the Nazi, is a 30-year-old self-described geek who resembles Crispin Glover and works as a mechanic. He tells the Pitch he became hooked on hate -- sorry, "racial pride" -- in high school when he read Mein Kampf. He was later kicked out of the Navy for his views. Disturbingly, he says that the day he tussled with the rabbi, he got at least ten waves, thumbs-ups and comments of support from strangers he encountered, including an old lady in an elevator who told him that her day had improved at the sight of him.
In all, Boswell was a pretty good sport about his day in court. Walking away from the courthouse, he even picked up a copy of the Pitch as he passed a stand, despite the fact that his NSM superiors were supremely pissed at the attention they got from this publication (the Strip's "Springtime for Hitler," May 12). "Yeah, Jeff [Schoep] was pretty ticked," he says of his group's commander. "But I read the Pitch, so I knew what to expect."
Sarah Carlew nearly fell off the exam table recently at the College Park Family Care Center in Olathe, so shocked was she to find a pamphlet touting "Saved Sex" in her new doctor's examination room.
"God never intended for sex to hurt our hearts and bodies," the pamphlet says. "He knew that sex was best 'protected' by the love and commitment in marriage. Not a condom. You could say that the condom is just another one of Satan's lies. All fun, no pain. The problem is he never delivers on his promises."
Carlew was surprised that her doctor's office was dispensing Sunday sermons along with prescriptions and prognoses. But what tore her paper gown even more was that the pamphlet contained misinformation. "Condoms offer little protection [against sexually transmitted diseases]," it reads.
The brochures, it turns out, arrived in the office thanks to nurse's assistant Deb Aldridge, who ordered them from a Fort Collins, Colorado, company called Life Cycle Books, according to office manager Barbara Overfelt. (Aldridge declined to comment.)
Carlew recently began working at a nonprofit, and her new insurance, Blue Cross and Blue Shield, assigned her to College Park Family Care, which has six locations in Kansas. She hadn't expected her insurer to send her to a medical center with a Christian message. She didn't have a problem with the doctor who saw her, but she says she plans to switch to a health-care provider that doesn't mix morals with medicine.