American Religion

Has mankind really changed in several thousand years? The Canaanite and Norseman would cut down the trees, and propped them up as gods, to appeal to them as they please. All the while never realizing that the trees shed no tears. The American man likewise builds his coliseum. It is his place of worship, his temple. Amidst its throngs, he is sentimental. He is a slave, yet he considers it freedom. His children, at birth, are dedicated to his gods. They are prodded into making the team, If they don’t succeed, they have no self-esteem. When all the while there is no way to beat the odds. For what is the point of this futile trophy? The athlete spends weeks and months on end, away from beloved family and friend, in the delusion that their endeavor is truly holy. Surely in time everything will die, and the athlete’s fame can’t outlast the clock, tick tick. Say, do you remember Ducky Joe Medwick? Actually, neither do I! In America, there are heretics of course. Steve Bartman left this legacy. He has to live in a safehouse for his heresy. If you wear the wrong shirt, watch out man, you’ll be a corpse! The university is a place where indulgences are bought. Countless loan dollars prop up the team’s egos. The fans follow them like mindless mosquitoes. Ironic that college was supposed to be a place of thought. Wake up America, repent from your slumbering ease! Will you hate another man for a game? Returning to the dust goes its glory and fame. Wake up, lest you be worshipping the trees.