Friday, February 19, 2010


In stark contrast to the Year of Yes I've got a big motherfucking no no.

I live about three blocks from a Jehovah's Witness's Kingdom Hall. We have a solid population of Witnesses and additional foot traffic most days as well. I'll be honest, while I respect their right to believe whatever they like and practice all the religion they like when they try to press it on me my blood gets pretty boily. When I had the dog I'd scooch her closer to ward a witness off and I've been known to shake an admonishing finger at someone approaching me on the street and say a firm, "No."

There's an older lady in my building who has trouble walking. She often sits in the courtyard for a rest on the way into the building and we say hello. Or, we did. You have to walk through a security pavilion, sign in or use a key, cross the courtyard, and buzz or use your key to get into a building in the complex where I live. It's pretty rare to have your apartment bell ring without having buzzed the person into the building first. One night my bell rings and, despite my inclinations I answered it. It could be a warning about a gas leak, who knows? There is Lady Cane and a friend and they're ready to witness. What the fuck is that? I shut the door almost immediately and said, "Absolutely not."

So we don't say hello anymore.

I thought that took the cake. Really did.

I had a bit of an emotional day yesterday. Nothing huge just some hoop followed by a little la and my own bad judgment in diving in a bit too deep. In any case, I commuted home by way of a long walk with NDP and her nutty shepherd boy. By the time I'd been out walking and talking and throwing a slimy plastic bottle for an hour I wasn't cured but I was pounds lighter for sure. Grabbed the mail on the way in and there was even a hand addressed letter to me! Cool. OK, weird, it wasn't from anyone I knew and the return address was in this neighborhood but maybe it was some good samaritan  redirecting a piece of misdelivered mail. Still mail for me, yay!

Let me transcribe:

Dear [My Real First Name],

I live in your neighborhood. I have not been able to speak with you personally, but I have some import [sic] information That I want to share with you.
A sample of it is contained in the enclosed Tract. This tract has some very good news about all suffering soon to End. Why did suffering start. It is my privilege to share in a work that is being done by volunters [sic] in upward of 200 lands. Our work is not commercial. It is my hope that some day soon I will be able to talk to you personally.
Please feel free to get in touch with us at the above address.

Anna Gibbon

Let's forget for a minute that it's possible she got my address from my neighbor. Heck she could be my neighbor since I don't know the woman's name. BACK OFF OF MY FUCKING SOUL! Believe what you want to believe, go to the meetings and read the tracts and listen to the preachers of whatever words and incantations you like but leave me out of it for, you'll pardon the expression, the love of Christ. If Ms. Gibbon had enclosed Muslim tracts I could go to my local precinct or call Homeland Security and probably get her brought in for questioning. I could certainly get her cautioned strongly against doing things that could be construed as invading someone's privacy.

The thing is, the people in the mosque half a block away from the Kingdom Hall would never, ever do anything like this. They do their thing just like the Baptists on the next block or the...Seventh Day Adventists, I think, around the corner. They leave me out of it. Which is as it should be.

Maybe I'll print out all my G-spot posts at the Colony and mail them to the Kingdom Hall.


  1. ok, the last visual of the g-spot tracts??? totally zapped my anger and left me laughing like a hyena.
    i love you.

    maybe you should start walking around the neighborhood wearing angle wings...

  2. I have no patience for evangelical religion. I'm all about helping people figure out their own path to spirituality, and you can tell me all about the work you're doing to make the world better, but keep your opinions about the standing of my soul in the afterlife to yourself.

    And for Christ's sake (ha!) edit your damn evangelism before you send it out! No one (well, at least not I) will be impressed about what you have to say if you can't spell.

  3. I've gotten these creepy, personalized letters from religious nuts also. It's disturbing to say the least. If you have her return address, I suggest you do exactly as you say!

  4. I have no patience for these people. Unfortunately, they have every right to do exactly what they're doing. And you have every right to tell them to fuck off. Which always makes you (or me, anyway) feel somewhat guilty. As annoying as they are, they're usually also really nice. I mean, they think they're giving you really awesome stuff. They're SHARING. The Bible does tell them that it's their job to spread the gospel. So they're practicing their religion properly as defined by their own texts. But that type of thing makes me thankful for the Jews, who aren't into the recruitment thing. I've got the internet. And the library. If I want to learn more, I know where to go. Thanks anyway. Now fuck off. I mean, kindly fuck off.

  5. Ha ha! Make sure you include the photos, too.

  6. I just say in my most cheerful, bright-faced way (which anyone who knows me would spot as false from a mile away) "Oh, no thank you! I have a church that I am very happy with! Have a nice day!" and then shut the door.

    It is part of their beliefs that they share - which sucks for the rest of the world, but they truly think they are doing good. Personally, I think their religion is pretty awful.

    You could always do what my sis did, and get pamphlets from the Hindu temple bookstore, and, when offered tracts, would offer to trade. No trade, no deal. They were uniformly appalled, which always made her laugh. No way were they going to let their hand be tainted by touching a pamphlet on the wisdom of Sri Ramakrishna

  7. By "that they share" I meant "that they go out and spread the word" - sorry to be not so clear.

  8. I always tried to be nice about it. I mean, I don't have a church I'm happy about, I'm happy not to have a church, but I'd give them a no thanks or just walk on by. I don't use profanity or anything because like MAB I do feel bad telling a nice little old lady (or man) to go fuck herself sideways with a copy of The Watchtower. Of course all that was before I lived in this neighborhood, so close to a Kingdom Hall and before people got to me inside my home. I now find it really hard to be nice when confronted with it nearly every day. Interestingly enough they generally don't approach you if you're on the same block as the Kingdom Hall, even if you're just walking by but once you hit the corner you're fair game! I'll keep trying to be nice because I do think that's the right thing to do but I expect I will falter at some point and say something mean. I do like the idea of trading tracts. The thing is, if they agree then I'll take the tracts and I feel weird about then throwing it away, you know?

  9. I think that might be the trick to safeguard your soul!

  10. My mom (who is a retired methodist minister and one of the nicest little southern ladies in the world) says this to JWs who ring her bell.

    "I'm sorry but if heaven is full of Jehovah's Witnesses, I'd rather go to hell."