Sorry I'm Late...
My car's been misbehaving, so I haven't had time to post a well-considered response until now, but here goes:
Hal: You're spot on about the difference between the true meanings of God, Faith, and Church. My feeling on religion has always been thus: All of the world's varied religions are like signposts with arrows painted upon them. At the core of practically every religion I know of is the command that one should treat one's fellow humans with respect, mercy, and kindness. All of those signposts then point to the same destination, even if they take different paths. The problem arises when people begin attaching myth and dogma to the code of orderly behavior, and then it becomes a problem, as everyone is too busy arguing about what color the sign should be and in what typeface the directions should be printed that they spend all their time hitting each other with their signs and never get around to following them. It gets even worse when the flawed humans in charge add power, money, and politics to the mix. As a result, modern religion reminds me of Gandhi's opinion of Western Civilization: "It would be a very good thing if someone actually tried it." I mean, Christianity has failed at the simplest request Jesus made of his followers. He said that when you pray, you shouldn't just repeat memorized words that have been ground into lifeless gray powder through generations of rote repetition, with every last bit of true emotion drained from them. He said you should improvise from the heart, and whatever you came up with would be good because it was what you truly felt. He then laid down a little jazz riff of a prayer as an example. It began "Our Father, who art in Heaven..." and the Church preceded to take it and memorize it and grind it into lifeless gray powder through generations of rote repetition until the words had no feeling left in them. If the Church screwed up something that basic, how can we trust them to get complex morality right?
I also don't feel that religion is the place to look for morality for reasons closer to the thoughts of Neitzche. This is the Cliff Notes version that grossly oversimplifies things, but there's Master Morality and Slave Morality. People with Master Morality do the right thing simply because they know that it's the right thing to do. People with Slave Morality do the right thing only because they crave reward for doing so, or fear punishment for failing to do so. As such, it isn't truly being moral because you're acting out of the selfish motives of greed and cowardice. With promises of Heaven and warnings of Hell, the Church advocates Slave Morality. If you can only get people to do something through bribes and threats, then you've got to question if you're really on the right track. Only people with Slave Morality impose their will on others, in order to convince themselves that they are right.
I agree with your lines about the Ground Staff, and I offer a similar idea: To paraphrase Dennis Miller: "If God has a problem with someone, believe me, He'll let them know. God is Sherrif Andy and you are Barney Fife, so keep your bullet in your shirt pocket, okay?"
As for the nature of God, I'm content to leave that a mystery. I've said before that to name something is an attempt to exert power over it. I am neither so insecure nor egotistical as to try to impose my will on whatever force is responsible for creation. No concept we invent as limited mortals could ever be sufficient to fully describe such a force, and I'm inclined to believe that attempts to do so are only so much fruitless tail-chasing.
qjakal & MistressMia: Thanks for the compliments. I'm blushing beneath my fur again. The Stracynski quote is oddly connected to this topic, as I've found more truth, wisdom, and inspiration in my collection of Sci-Fi and comics than I have in most of the Bible. Who says God couldn't have divinely inspired some of J. Mike's words as well?
Flatfoot: As for you considering yourself selfish for enjoying giving her a foot-rub, where is it written that you can't enjoy being altruistic? It sounds like you were giving her as much enjoyment as you got, and that's a lot more than most of the brutes who had taken advantage of her before had done. The mere fact that you intended it to be mutual absolves you of true selfishness (The Clinton variety as opposed to the Ayn Rand version). I'm reminded of a parable I heard in Church as a small boy that informed my take on sexuality today: A man dreamed that he was being shown a tour of Heaven and Hell. Both planes consisted of an enormous dining room, with people at long tables trying to eat a banquet with chopsticks. In Hell, the people tried to feed themselves, but couldn't work the chopsticks well enough, so the food kept falling out back onto the plate, never to reach their mouths. In Heaven, the only difference was that people would use their chopsticks to feed the person across the table from them, and btween the two of them, they would both get fed. I think sex should work the same way, in that you can't go into it without considering the other person. Otherwise, you'd be less selfish to use tissue paper rather than using them like tissue paper. (Onan's sin was not masturbation, but rather coitus interruptus which violated the Hebrew law requiring him to provide his late brother's childless wife with an heir.)
As for the strippers suspecting my foot-fetish, they don't suspect, they know. Most of them ask, and I respond truthfully. I further tell them that I love nothing better than giving a lady pleasure, and feet are an effective, if often overlooked, avenue for doing this, either through a massage or a tickle. To be honest, just referring to the visit I had Friday night, I got a bigger buzz from the warm fuzzy feeling I got giving a foot rub to a rather unhappy girl who relished 5 minutes of caring and pampering than I did from another girl who professed to possess a foot-fetish like my own. While Roxy let me tickle her, suck her toes, and not only did the same to me but stroked my John Thomas through my jeans with her bare foot; any erotic high I had is eclipsed by the memory of Cally's face, sad expression replaced by a beatific smile as she snuggled up against the couch, sighing happily and only half-joking that she should be paying me to receive such attention.
I'd go on further, but it's late here in NJ and I've no desire to be found asleep in front of the monitor tomorrow morning.
