GOD’S NOT DEAD 2, BUT THE MOVIE IS—AGAIN

Recently, I watched a movie named “God Is Not Dead 2” fully intending to remain neutral although I’d already seen “God’s Not Dead.” The first movie sucked and this one is even worse. It is more propaganda than a movie and the proselytizing is obnoxious. Once again, those poor Christians are getting beat up by secular values liberals and atheists.

Aside from a tortured storyline that only a mother could love, the entire movie is one long piece of complaining about Christian persecution, yet, the examples presented are absolutely without value and worse, they make Christians into a whiney, sniveling bunch of crybabies.

The instances cited are often an item of common sense. It would not be wise for a Hindu to take job at McDonalds knowing what the job requires. The same goes for nurses at hospitals performing any type of abortion who decide it is against their religion to be involved with even providing support for abortion patients. The answer is easy. Get a job at another hospital or takes care of only those patients that meet your religious bigotry. It is not religious discrimination when you are asked to do your job.

The movie also brings up law suits filed against public businesses such a flower shops, T-Shirt factories and marriage chapels that supposedly serve all until it comes to gays. If any such public place did this to African Americans, the fallou

t would be immediate and vociferous. That behavior is clear discrimination, but the makers of this movie don’t see it that way.

Rather than making a case for the persecution of Christians, the movie does just the opposite by showing Christian bullying and failure to care about others. The movie credits list all the cases where alleged cases of persecution. Quick checks of the listings show the insensitivity, mean-spiritedness and ridiculousness too deep to understand.

This might be the worst movie I’ve seen this year and there have been some real turkeys. Even a good Christian should be offended by this attempt at moving making.

They Say A Drunk Speaks A Sober Mind

I  was half in the bag when Tonya came in. As expected, she was dressed to the nines as usual. She was my friend girlfriend when it was necessary.

In my business, there were functions that required my presence and showing up alone was considered extremely bad taste. So, Tonya was my friend girlfriend. 

When she slipped into her chair across from me, I was feeling no pain.

“It looks like you started without me,” she said and laughed lightly.

I looked through blurry eyes and imagined a princess had just come to tell me she needed rescuing. When my eyes finally focused, I said, “You’re a fine motherfucker. Wait, I’m sorry. I’m drunk and I’d never say anything like to you when I ain’t full of whiskey.”

“You’ve said worse things, Tonya said and laughed.

“I have?” I asked. You’re kidding, right?”

“No. You’ve asked me to do all kinds of things, but I’ve never been bothered because I know it’s not you. So, tell me who was it this time? Twila? Shanelle?”

Suddenly my mind was coming back into focus. It’s funny how you can will yourself out of a condition and that is exactly what happened. Of course, now I felt like shit, which only added to my anger with that bitch Shanelle breaking up with me by text message. I wanted to kick her ass, but since I couldn’t I drank myself into a trance.

Even though I was finally through the fog, something still nagged at my mind and it wasn’t a gentle subject. I’d been thinking about how to bring the subject up without being rude or unfeeling, but I finally decided that just coming out and saying it straight would be the best way. After all, we had been friends since childhood.

“What are you thinking," Tonya asked. I know that look on your face and it means that you have something on your mind. If you have something to say, just say it.”

“Straight out, here it is. We’ll probably lose friendship over this but I think you should know,” I said.

“Just say it,” Tonya said.

“Lately, I’ve been smelling your ass,” I said.

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

“I mean I can smell all of your feminine parts. Your ass and pussy, I can smell them,” I said.

I could see the anger in her eyes and her facial muscles clench. The muscle running along her jawbone was tight and her eyes squinted. She started to get up and then sat back down in her chair. She stared at me hard as if she was trying to stab or shoot me.

“How can you hurt me like this,” she asked.

“I’ve been thinking it over for the past two months when I first noticed it," I said. “I thought I imagined it, but it was real. Then I thought that if it were me that I’d like a friend to pull me over and tell me before I became a topic of conversation for the local haters. Maybe this liquor has loosened my tongue enough to say what a real friend would have said right away,” I said.

She there looking at me with a look that I couldn’t read. Resting her chin on her crossed hands, she turned her head back and forth looking from one side of the room to the other. At one point, she swallowed her bourbon and continued to ruminate. While she sat in silence, I motioned for the waiter to bring another bourbon for her. She did the same thing before she finally spoke and simply said to me, “thank you.”

I don’t remember was when we left “Dark Eyes,” but the taxi driver had to pour us into the backseat. He had to ask three times for our addresses. When we parted, she kissed me on my cheek and said, “See you at the next party.”