100 Reasons Why It's Great to be a Systemite

Posted by congratulations! on June 07, 2004 at 17:45:20

In Reply to: One year anniversary! posted by Freeatlast! on June 07, 2004 at 17:11:51:

Eat, sleep, work, exercise, play and love in whatever way you like. There’s no one to force you into their cookie-cutter lifestyle and no
one to tell you how to think.

Eat what is set before you if you feel like it. You are free to vomit if served fried zucchini, raw eggplant or boiled liver. Ghosts of dirty
old men stay the hell out of your pantry. You can eat dinner without singing two or three songs first. The only wine taster in your life is
the maitre d’. The items in your pantry were not donated to you by ‘nice’ people who couldn’t sell them anymore because the date had
expired. You don’t have to smother your meals in ketchup just to get them down.

You hate TV, not because it’s the Devil’s tool, but because there’s nothing good on. Satan’s music kicks ass. A double is something
you order at a bar, not something you chalk up. Your books are not kept in a metal trunk and your library contains writings from several
authors. The only helping spirits you know are the ones sold at the liquor store. An idle mind, whether it is the Devil’s workshop or
not, is something you look forward to at the end of a long day. “The Weed, the Weed, the Weed — Can’t get enough!” You can read
“1984” without being treated like one of its characters. “Mo’s Mokes” are not funny to you. Pow-wowing is something American
Indians do. Normal people shut up and let you watch your movie. You can be happy without being inright, outright, upright and
downright. “Are you smoking?” — “Higher and higher!” Daydreaming rules! Road trips involve alcohol and partying, not fund-raising and provisioning. The only verses you memorize are the words to your favorite songs. No one you meet has seen the movie “Pollyanna” 200 times or will ever suggest that you play “The Glad Game”. You get drunk and/or laid on New Year’s Eve. Forget holding candles and all that other crap. Smoke, drink coffee or alcohol until you puke, pass out or die. No one is going to point out that you’re “over your weekly limit”. God doesn’t give a shit about whether you go to the disco or not so there’s no need to ask him. You
take a day off to relax not to read cult propaganda. You get the latest sleaze in a bar or a pub not a BAR Pub. The books in your library
are not named after food or floor rags.

You don’t have to take correction, and if you justify yourself your own mouth doesn’t condemn you. You don’t need a prophecy to decide which movie to watch and you can watch as many in a week as you like. You can go out for a walk or a drive by yourself if you feel like it. Screw the buddy system. You don’t wake up in the morning to the sounds of buzzing neon lights and an off-key rendition of “It’s a New Morning”. You only hear the words ‘thee’ and ‘thou’ during Shakespeare plays or while visiting Amish country. You’ve met your Mama and Grandpa or, if not, you at least know where they live. You may still have a flee bag, but you call it something else, like “onenight- stand bag”. “Get-out time” has been replaced by “drag-your-sorry-ass-to-the-gym time”. You can plan your future and that of
your children without constantly being told by crackpots that the world is about to end. A stranger who does something nice for you is not
a potential ‘provisioning contact’. Self-esteem is something admirable that should be obtained and not suppressed. You don’t have to dress up like a clown unless you work in a circus or your lover thinks it’s kinky. Flies and mosquitoes are bugs, not “The Devil’s Minions”.

If you miss while trying to kill them you’re a lousy shot. They do not have the ability to disappear. The only animal names you give people
are pig, bitch, snake and chick not sheep, goat, fish or wolf. You hear and use other adjectives besides ‘super’ and ‘sweet’. Your car does not have to be jump started every morning. Both your shoes are the same size. The glove compartment of your car is not stuffed with toilet paper rolls, devotional books, or crumpled gospel tracts. You never hear the words ‘burden’, ‘trial’, ‘tribulation’,
‘unspiritual’ or ‘blessing’ used to describe emotions or states of mind.

No more OHRs or questions like “BM: [ ] Hard; [ ] Medium; [ ] Soft”. If you don’t want to tell someone something, you say “None of
your business”, not “It’s selah” or “God bless you”. No one will suggest you memorize silly poems like, “After potty forget not, boys your
penies with paper blot”. People who read your mail can be sent to prison. A perfect stranger is not automatically your Auntie or
Uncle. “Exorcism” is just a movie and not something you need to do to your child if she might be a Mene case. If your keys turned into
swords, how would you get into your house or car? You can accept gifts from people without wondering if they have hitch-hiking spirits.
If someone yells “Revolution!” you can say “Fuck you!” and raise one finger instead of three. Your traumatic testimonies don’t end
with the cliché “...then I found the Family”, but rather “...then I left the Family”.

When a guy honks a horn at you, you don’t say
“Hallelujah!”. You give him the finger. When her teacher says, “Your little daughter is so sweet and deep for her age” you don’t have to
wonder what he means. The fairytales you read to your children were not written by someone who heard from the spirits of dead people
and animals. Self proclaimed prophets are given the title of ‘nut case’ not ‘King’ and ‘Queen’.

You can unwrap all your bundles of faith. You don’t assume Martin Luther King Jr. was evil or that Muammar Kadhafi and Fidel Castro
are good just because Berg said so. You believe that the Heavenly City is up Berg’s ass and not inside the moon. You’re closer to God
than ever more so even than “Familymites”. That is, of course, if Berg was right when he wrote “The Benefits of Backsliding”. Little imps
don’t sit on your shoulder and inspire negative thoughts. People who talk to characters from novels and fairy tales and have sex with
goddesses are put into mental institutions not revered as prophets of God.

You don’t have to change your name every time you have a ‘breaking’ or because someone thinks your name is too worldly, vain or proud. While you may be heathen, you don’t participate in vain
repetitions of “Thank you Lord, Praise you Jesus, Hallelujah, Thank you Jesus, Praise you Lord, ...”.

The name for banging someone else’s wife is ‘adultery’ not ‘sharing’. Sex is for satisfaction, not spiritual attainment. If you have sex with someone twice your age it’s certainly not because you’re trying to bridge the generation gap. “Going for the gold” is a term used for Olympic events and not sex without condoms. Your only “Elixir of Love” is KY jelly. You will never feel that your sex partner
expects you to say phrases like “Fill me with your seeds” or “Jesus, I want your penis inside of me”. When you masturbate you fantasize
about real people. Date, sleep with or marry whomever you damn well please. You don’t have to fill out a questionnaire when you
want to fuck someone. You don’t have to worry that some horrid single 55-year-old is going to sexually pounce on you the moment you
turn 21. You couldn’t care less what Zerby’s “Cool Tips for Hot Sex” book advises. You experiment or just have a damn good shag. You
can have an orgy and not invite God to join in. If you want to read pornographic literature you don’t have to write a reaction to it
afterwards. A man doesn’t have to imagine himself as a woman in the spirit unless he is a she-male. When going to sleep you no
longer have to listen to your “room shepherds” having bad sex.

You have a real job. No more postering, tapenessing, videoing or other forms of ‘witnessing’. You get paid for your labor in cash and not just another star in your heavenly crown. You can take credit for your own good ideas rather than ‘thanking the Lord’ for inspiring them. While your boss may be a total asshole he doesn’t spank you (or your kids), doesn’t live in your house, eat your food, make you clean his toilet, etc. You can clean your house without wondering what the fuck “Jesus’ Job Time” is supposed to mean. Serving
Mammon brings in the dough a heck of a lot faster than serving the Lord. You do not have to pay your bills in coins. Your taxes are not
used to publish copious amounts of propaganda that you’ll probably never read anyhow.

You can look good without being labeled ‘worldly’. Four sheets, five sheets, it’s up to you. If you’re seriously ill, you go to the doctor. You’ll never have twenty hands laid on you and no one rubs cooking oil on your forehead. Long scraggly hair equals bag lady, not
Bible woman. Eventually the details of Berg’s personal hygiene habits, Zerby’s bowel movements and Peter’s STDs start to fade from your
memory. Body hair is French, not revolutionary.

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