I’m convinced there is a God. Not because of the moral argument (which is pretty compelling) or the teleological argument (also with merit). Nope… it’s when things like this happen.
A couple of days ago I was having a conversation with my friend Lori about writing in a more free-form way. That would be humorous and/or bizarre commentary on news or simply musings. I used to do that a LOT! And she agreed that I should. My manager has told me the same thing.… and then, yesterday morning, this story on the front page of NBCNews.com.
I’m avoiding the obvious commentary on Rachel Dolezal “identifying” as black (large finger quotes around “identifying”).
If the news story above doesn’t scream divine affirmation – a message from heaven specifically to me – what else does? Burning bushes are passe these days… that trick’s been done. And other believers use vague notions and coincidental utterings by their friends as “divine messages” – so I can pretty much attribute this story to a good and merciful God.
Let’s grab the low-hanging fruit, shall we!
“This is a dick-up!”
“We can do this the hard way or the easy way.”
In reading the story, he apparently made what they call a “facsimile weapon of mass destruction” out of the following items:
- a box
- black tape
- a vibrator
- a cellphone
He only exposed some loose wires and the story doesn’t indicate to what or where the wires were connected.
People rob banks with their finger under their shirt, fake guns, screwdrivers and even ball point pens. It’s not difficult… I was a bank teller… you are trained to give money to anyone who says they are robbing you! Even if they simply give you a note!
And so, I’m curious about his choices. Not his choice to rob a bank… that’s an easy one… He needed some cash. Who among us hasn’t considered robbing a bank once or twice in their life?
No, I’m curious about his choice of items to build his “weapon of mass destruction.” (is that what the kids are calling it these days).
There he is, at home, “planning” his caper (those are big finger quotes, too)… Hmm…
Tape… yeah… tape comes in handy universally… whether home improvement or robbing a bank. Check!
A box… boxes serve any purpose in the world. Ask a toddler or a cat! Time machine, rocket ship, or bomb! Check!!
A cell phone… he’s obviously up-to-date on his James Bond or Mission Impossible films. Cell phones are… well… phones and also detonators. Solid choice… Check!!!
And now he’s looking around the house… Like a chef… there is something missing from his makeshift phony bomb. The Stanley cordless screwdriver… nah… too bulky. An electronic toothbrush… he can’t use that – he’s a stickler for oral hygiene. The electric cork puller… ahh… don’t fuck with the wine drinkers… they’ll kill you if they can’t open that bottle.
Time’s a-wasting and he needs to get a move on… the bank closes in 45 minutes. What to do… what to do…
Ah… I’ve got it! I hate that damn thing… she loves it more than she loves me!! But which one… the French Tickler… the Rabbit… that purple one… it was too playful and always seemed to buzz a little too proudly for my taste.
And with that, the choice was made…
In truth, the vibrator is sort of obvious – assuming it was a phallus – it serves the purpose of a gun! But wait, he was claiming that it was a bomb, not a gun! Hmmm.. confusing but no questioning a master chef as it were.
He seems to have gone to a lot of trouble to simply show some wires. It strikes me that he really only needed some wires and maybe a box as a prop under his shirt. Which makes me think this was all a clever ruse to get that damned vibrator out of the house.
What I really want is a picture of the device… but alas, the bomb squad apparently blew it up as a precaution.
If the screen is still in tact, check the cell phone, I’m betting there is a text message… “Where the F$%*!!! is my vibrator?”
I want this to go to court but I suspect it won’t. There is a plea deal coming (forget it). No jury will convict this guy… unless, it is a jury of women – in which case…
“We the jury say, hang that bastard!”