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Speaking of Things That Make You Go Hmmm…

Like the Rev. King, I had a dream. Only, mine happened while I was sleeping. I had this one a few weeks ago, but it was so mind-boggling that I’ve been thinking about it quite a bit.

I was at my mom’s house, and it must have taken place before her divorce. She, my brothers, and I were in the living room, sitting around and talking, like ya’ do. I suddenly turned around, and noticed that the wood stove was on fire. Ginormous flames were shooting out of the top of it. Eeep! So, I yell “fire!” and run to the kitchen, to get the fire extinguisher. Herb (ex step-father) was standing in front of the microwave, behind which the fire extinguisher was located. I told him the wood stove was on fire, and he just stared at me like I was a pod person. Hrmph. I ran back to the living room, then back to the kitchen, then back to the living room, then back to the kitchen. Back and forth, back and forth, each time telling Herb that the wood stove was on fire (Aaack! Fire!). But, bupkis from him.

See, he was drying pot in the microwave. Very important, that, and not to be interrupted, apparently. Also, he was always a stickler for asking for exactly what you wanted, instead of either hinting around at it or waiting for the other person to offer up what you needed. All well and good, I suppose, but at times, especially when I was young, it seemed like a cruel sort of game to him.

So, my interpretation is that:

1) He was waiting for me to actually ask him for the fire extinguisher. Simply telling him the fucking house was on fire was not good enough, as that required him to supply the requisite action (“Duh, maybe she wants the fire extinguisher?”).

2) He was perfectly happy to let the world combust around him, as long as his own needs were being met. He was spectacularly selfish that way. So, I can totally see him thinking that his priorities might take precedence over others’, because often, they did. And, when they didn’t, he could be the world’s worst Whiney McWhinerPants.

Crankypantsing, Genealogy

Mormons Being Creepy

So, as I’ve been going through all this genealogy BS, I’ve come across a metric fuck-load of references to the phrase “sealed to parent/child,” along with recent-ish dates. Wondering what on earth that might mean, I went a-Googling. Lo and behold, it refers to LDS baptism and binding. Basically, no matter when you died, or, apparently, what your faith was when you keeled over (boggle), your present day descendants, if they are endowed[1] LDS members, can opt to have you baptised and sealed to them. In other words, your spirits are then eternally bound together.

Now, I’m all for folks practicing whatever sort of mumbo-jumbo floats their boats, but I think it’s of the utmost importance for people to have free choice of which flavor of Kool-Aid they prefer to drink. I’m squicked out by the thought that hundreds of years after someone’s death, their descendants can fool around with their eternal souls.

I think that definitely qualifies as spiritual “Bad Touch.”

I’m just trying to imagine how some of the Quakers I’ve been researching would react if they found out their souls were being enshrined against their wills in some sort of Mormon death cult. I mean, these were folks who took their own brand of religion seriously enough that they were willing to come to this country in order to practice it freely. They also don’t strike me as folks who were into super secret rituals.

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[1] What endowment means is anyone’s guess. It apparently entails participating in an uber-s00per-s33kr1t ceremony that none must speak of ever after.