Crumbling Sacrilege

The (Catholic and atheist) world has waited with bated breath since, in the wake of the University of Central Florida theological "scandal" involving a student making off with a consecrated Eucharist host, godless liberal P.Z. Myers promised to complete the sacrilege of which the student was accused, and desecrate "a goddamned cracker." It seems that he is now a man of his word.

It should be noted that although normally soft-spoken, Dr. Myers regularly takes superstitious claims (and those that dogmatically hold them) to task with alacrity and relish on his blog, but I would wager that his recent anti-wafer provocation wouldn't have been made manifest without the vocal condemnation of the original student by that paragon of ecumenical graciousness, the Catholic Leaugue's own Bill Donohue.

Donohue, as a faithful Catholic, is well-versed in the rhetorical value of martyrdom, and often shoves the crucified Jesus out of the way so that he can take his own place of honor on the old rugged cross, where he can weather the slings and arrows of those who, like Dr. Myers, do not reflexively nod their heads to his dogmatic veneration of an institution that has ably destroyed as many lives as it would claim to have saved for divine glorification (human glorification from its adherents notwithstanding).

In keeping with his record of pompous gasbaggery, Donohue is sure to revel in the opportunity afforded him by one more 'Jesus-hater' whose eternal soul will be basted in brimstone for the satanic spoiling of a sacred Saltine. I doubt that someone so thoroughly god-deluded will be able to appreciate the damage he does to his rational reputation by insisting upon universal deference to his particular sect's worship of a holy biscuit.

And yet, is it such a triumph over the superstition-driven life to abuse the illusion of a god-cracker, even if it is held by someone so obtuse and grating? Alonzo Fyfe has waxed ethically on this matter, and has landed favorably on Dr. Myers' side (even if critical of the methods implied by Dr. Myers to obtain a Holy Cracker), but I wonder if it isn't a denigration of our own collective reputations to even acknowledge such a self-serving simpleton (although South Park did take a few seconds to allow Jesus to execute his apoplectic animated avatar).

Still, when there's a point to be made, I'm generally favor of making it, but with good taste, if possible. Extraordinarily good taste, I might add, which is why I (in my own humble opinion) did Dr. Myers one better and concocted a true gastronomic delight: the Jesus Waffle.

You see, whatever their supernatural particulars, Eucharist hosts have the unwavering natural characteristics of being made of flour and water. As such, a collection of them can be ground into powder, mixed with butter, milk, egg, and a bit of sugar and salt, to make a scrumptuous breakfast pastry guaranteed to captivate your palate (even if it doesn't illuminate your spirit). The final product is surprisingly fluffy on the inside and crisp on the outside (as will be, I presume, my damned corpse in Hell), and if your priest is health-conscious enough to procure whole-wheat wafers, may even lower your cholesterol (Hallelujah!). Topped with vanilla yogurt and garnished with the transubstutated flesh of Our Sweet Lord, it's the perfect way to start any apostate's day.

Now, why would I assemble this Unholiest of recipes? Does Bill Donohue's nose really need another tweaking? Am I trying to suck up to P.Z. and gain a dispensation of his cephalopodic grace? Neither, really. If I truly believe that religious symbols aren't special, then there shouldn't be any particular merit to venerating them OR desecrating them, right? In all honesty, it just seemed like something interesting to do. It's the same reason that I keep a Buddha statue in my garden: I use it for quirky aesthetic appeal, not spiritual inspiration. The same is true for the large crucifix displayed outside my home office, the Lakshmi coin I keep next to my D&D dice, and the driedel I put out on my coffee table every December. One man's god is another man's lawn ornament, and the sooner we are able to arrive at that understanding, the sooner we'll be able to experience reality as humans together.