I was recently on an 11 hour road trip through what we’ll call the buckle of the bible belt. My truck comes equipped with a state of the art AM/FM radio – but not much else – so I quickly became well acquainted with the “seek” button. There comes a point as one passes through the southeastern edge of America’s “heartland” (MissiGeorgiaBama) that the frequencies are suddenly abandoned. That’s right, nothing but soft white noise for miles and miles. I was in such a drive-weary haze by the time I realized that I hadn’t heard Lady GaGa in, like, atleast 20 minutes that it never occurred to me that my trusty-dusty seek button might not do me as much good as it had in the previous 6 hours. I needed music, preferably the tacky top 40 kind. You can’t accidentally fall asleep at the wheel to Lady GaGa singing about her poker face.
On a side note, the love songs that the pop stations play (Does Jeremih’s “Birthday Sex” even count as a love song?) make me wretch uncontrollably if I’m not breathing through my nose.
Onward with our story! I pressed “seek”, and the button sought. And sought. And sought. It finally came to rest on the low end of the spectrum, 91.something. There was a pause before any sound came from my speakers. In this brief moment I had time to contemplate what I was about to hear. As a general rule, stations that lie between 88.1 and about 93.1 FM tend to be either NPR (I could only hope) or fire and brimstone. Y’all know what I’m talking about. In more metropolitan areas I see billboards featuring bright, smiling, conservatively dressed anglo-saxon couples beaming mindlessly at a wooden cross advertising HIS FM 98.5 or HALO 104.3 – All Praise and Worship, All the Time! Not in BFE, kids. Out there in the middle of nowhere they don’t play bouncy Jesus-centric feel good pop songs. They play audio of the Reverend Ronny Bob Jones addressing his congregation from his pulpit at the Church of Sweet Smokin’ Jesus, Did He Just Say That?!
What I heard was not radio. It was noise pollution of the most bizarre kind. The pastor, in his most ridiculous southern Baptist the-end-uh-days-are-a-comin’ voice declared over and over again that yoga, pilates, and zen meditation are all, in fact, TOOLS OF SATAN!
Really? Pilates is a tool of Satan? That’s really unfortunate, because I love pilates. It strengthens my core. I guess by extension then I must also love Satan. Jesus never strengthened my core. I’ve never prayed to Our Heavenly Father and been miraculously blessed with a spectacular tummy.
So if pilates is a tool of Satan, does that mean that Satan in responsible for Madonna’s scary superbitch body? Maybe it is evil.
Later
Morgan
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