We're all sent here COD, and we're all stamped Return To Sender. The main dispute people seem to have is where the Sender lives, what the Sender looks like and whether the Sender's mother was a virgin or not or whether the Sender had a mother at all. Kind of rude to discuss someone's mother's sexual activities, isn't it? No wonder people fight.

And isn't it odd that something would create something that simply returns things back? If that doesn't prove we're some sort of mad scientific experiment, I don't know what does. Or maybe the Sender didn't do it at all. Maybe someone made the system the Sender uses and he's wondering why the Hell all these things he's sending are coming right back.

What's scary are the first two paragraphs might offend people. Exploring such topics almost always leads to some form of rebuke, even delivered with a light heart. :-)

And so they met, these two philosophers of different origins - be they from East or West, North or South it did not matter.

They paused on a rock, breaking bread to discuss life, the universe and - of course - everything.

"As soon as I think I understand how something works, it surprises me. The world constantly baffles me as if some unknown entity changes things only to keep me from understanding the world."

"My problem is life", says the other, "I can't make sense of it. I have found no reason for me to be here, no reason for existence, none. But what you say is true. Maybe in the definition of your problem we both have a solution."

Through a crumbed beard filter, the response. "So what you mean is that the unknown entity is the solution? That this unknown entity can give us meaning, give existence meaning and explain all the things that confuse and baffle us?"

"It's a thought. Think about it. We could spread the word and get people back to being productive - we can give them a point to their existence, a point to their lives and a ready explanation that allows them to proceed without having to understand anything in this world. I think the people will eat this up and they might even pay for its propagation."

A thoughtful pause.

"So what you're suggesting is that we assign all the things we cannot explain and understand to an unknown entity? That we can blame this entity for everything, good and bad? Should we humanize the entity so that people can relate to it?"

"You're catching on, but consider this: if we humanize the entity, it would be too transparent. So instead, let us say that the entity created us and did so in the image of the entity. In that way, people feel that they can relate to the entity while permitting for the entity to be like them."

As you can tell by the title, I'm tossing political correctness out of the window and opening a vein in this entry. Love it or leave it.

I'm not against people being naked under their clothing. I'm not even against people running around naked. But imagine a world where people not only run around naked but some people, because of their beliefs, thrust their genitalia upon you.

This is the world I live in. It may even be the world you live in, whether you shove your genitalia in other people's faces or you are on the receiving end. Granted, some people like having other people's genitalia in their faces - maybe with some women I may encourage them to do so - but having random people try to hump my head is not something I'm into. There is a fine line between tolerance and being trod upon.

Today, without realizing what would happen, I posted this quote on my Facebook status:

"There's no one so self-righteous as someone policing someone else's morality."
- Laurell K. Hamilton

And in speaking to a realtor today who has done quite well at making unprompted excuses, we finished talking about business. I was about to leave when the realtor decided that I needed to be saved. Quaint. So I diplomatically tried to extricate myself, telling the man that I respect that he has beliefs but I do not share them and would ask that he respect that. That he has a right to believe as he does and that I have the right to disagree.

March on Christian soldier, as they say. Or whatever it is that they say.

This writing started off in a bookstore in Gulf City, Trinidad where I had picked up a copy of The God Delusion. The young woman there who is cashing me out looks at me and says, "I never thought you were a Richard Dawkins fan?"

No judgement. It just didn't compute for her. So I told her to turn to page 42-43 of the book (it's a silver cover edition). When I picked up the book I thought, 'this could be interesting.' In leafing through it, I had come across this quote of Douglas Adams and that tipped me over to the purchase. Not that Douglas Adams said it, or that it was what was said. No, it was that I agreed with what he said from the center of my being¹.

So I responded to the young lady that she should open the book to page 42-43 and read the quote by Douglas Adams. She stared at me as if I had a second head, probably because she'd never had someone suggest she look in a book on a specific page for something a specific person wrote². After a stunned pause and, for some reason, a swallow, she dutifully opened the book and read what Douglas Adams was quoted as saying. And she said, "You know, that makes sense."

And I said, "That's why I'm buying the book."