Easy on the rhetoric Jimmy kid.  There aren’t many people who care.  And the one’s who do:  fuck ‘em.  The world got tired of preachers the second the first opened his mouth.  Course, that was back before anyone had TV, so they let it slide. Something to do.  Then the lip flappers got to thinking people cared what they said, that no one was going home to make fun of the ranting, “Didja see Abe yammering the other night?  Staring into the fire talking ‘bout slice our pricks and what not?”  Crazies for passing the time got to thinking people believed what they said; and just like nowadays, some assholes can’t tell the difference between what’s real and what’s on TV or movies or those vid games -- ya know? -- little fuckers got thinking, “Well everybody listens to so&so every night. Must be getting something right.  Right?”  Next thing you know, loonies are getting whole houses built where they can blather on for hours on end.  Most folks let it go thinking it’s theater, but like I said, those that don’t start really getting into it.  Like trekkies back before Trek.  The super fans want it to be true so bad they start believing on mass, letting the cracks slip out of focus, and telling other people about such and what not like it’s all truth -- "100% reliable, I swear to all mighty".  That’s how the world got shifted:  people believed because they wanted to; “Fuck facts!  I got a feeling this is right.”  Slowly it gets where no one can doubt a fucking thing without getting told, “You’ll burn for it.”  And sometimes a righteous cunt comes along decided, “I’ll make you burn for it.” Sends you off to the hell he expects is waiting for you.  Can you imagine if Trekkies got that severe?  Started hunting Star Wars nuts like infidels and suicide bombing their booths at comic cons.  Not far off if you ask me.   
 
I know your Moms don’t like me talking this way.  She says it‘ll corrupt ya.  She means well, and who’s to say?  Don’t take my word for it.  Hell, just think about it.  You got your own life to live.  
  
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Well okay Jimmy hun, let me tell you somethin’ about your father, okay? He’s a good man.  I wouldn’ta married him otherwise, donchaknow, but he’s got some demons.  Some fine monsters I tell ya.  So he doesn’t really have faith in the world; he can’t see Gahd’s beauty.  Donchaknow how sad that is?  It’s like being in hell before you even get there.  That’s kinda how I fell in love with him.  Here was this man who needed someone to pray for him, and he wasn’t gonna ask for it himself.  He had no sense anyone could or would care for him. That’s kinda why I think he don’t believe in Jesus.  And I’m not saying there’s only Jesus, I’m just sayin’ Christ works for me.  You take that reincarnating -- if we were all repeating things all the time why do we keep making the same mistakes?  Answer me that Batman.  You’d think people would come around the second, or third time at least, thinking, “Hey, maybe I shouldn’t do this and that.  It didn’t work out too well last time.”  
  
But I’d just like your father to believe in something more; that the world doesn’t stop when his eyes aren’t looking.  Though that’s what I figure he’s thinking of life:  nothing more than what you think it is.  But things are just so darn mysterious, there’s gotta be something more.  Ya know, they still got no idea what happened the second before the Big Bang and until some scientist says, “This here is what happened,” then I’ll keep on expecting them to atom smash a glimpse of Gahd, thank you very much.  Just because people don’t get religion right doesn’t mean it‘s wrong.  That’s like a student telling the math teacher, “I got the wrong answer, so math mustn’t exist.”  No sirree Bob.  
  
Though your father is right about one thing, and that’s the other reason I fell in love with him.  We all got one life to live -- unless you’re a reincarnater (though I don’t think that voodoo is real.  Unless it‘s like both:  people keep making the same mistakes cuz they haven‘t accepted Christ.  Now there‘s something, eh?  We all got pieces of the whole, maybe?  Where was I?).  So we gotta make the most of it donchaknow.  Carpe Denim or something.  I forget, but it’s no less true.  We can all agree on that I’m sure -- one life, grab hold.