Secular Right | Reality & Reason



A Small Corner of Hell

Via God’s Politics:

The Kumbaya-quotient is off the charts in Zuccotti Park and much of it rings authentic. The smell of Nag Champa incense hangs in the air mixed with the odors from nearby falafel, pretzel and Sabrett hot dog carts. There are lots of dread-locked white kids with nose rings and bare feet, plenty of tie dye, Che Guevera t-shirts and fresh-faced, lightly tattooed young mothers breastfeeding a few yards away from an impromptu meditation circle. There were also multi-generational family outings, where a grandmother was teaching her teenage granddaughter about the Catholic Worker movement, and small bands of young Lubavitch Chabad Jewish men — carrying date palm, willow and myrtle branches (and some impressive citron — or etrog — specimens) — who stopped passersby whom they presumed to be Jewish as well to ask whether they were celebrating Sukkot (the feast of booths) and offering to daven (pray) with any willing men.

About 3:30 p.m. a contingent of Roman-collar-wearing clergy men and women — Protestant, Catholic, Jewish, Buddhist, Native American and many others — arrived carrying the now-famous papier mache golden calf aloft like a sacrificial lamb or a statue of San Gennaro. The religious leaders and other people of faith gathered for the now-weekly Multi-Faith Service, that included litanies of prayers, petitions, scripture reading, and a lot of singing (accompanied by acoustic guitars and at least one auto-harp.)


1 comment

  • Brian · November 12, 2011 at 10:37 pm

    It sounds like they are almost masturbating to their own reflections. It really makes me suspect all other movements by such people. Are they real or just trumped up affairs by people in love with their own body odor?

    Every time I see video of them, they can be seen holding up cell phones, iPads, little cameras, trained on themselves so they can document every primal scream, every filthy word out of their mouths. They incite responses from the police by attacking them, then record themselves and each other on the ground, melodramatically pouring water into their eyes or rubbing their poor oppressed heads. They make me want to vomit.

    These people probably had parents who fawned over every little turd and every random crayon scribble as works of monumental achievement.



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