Sunday, April 25, 2010

The abuse of miracles

Out and out miracle abuse

While flipping through the slim pickings on cable for something to watch while I ate my dinner, I stumbled on a Discovery Channel documentary about sex. There was only 7 minutes left, but that was about all the time I was looking to pass anyway.

The show had reached the end of the process, explaining with such detailed, 3D, see-through graphics that I wasn't always sure what I was looking at. In great scientific detail, it was explaining and showing how orgasms project this and that to going here and there, which was all very above-board until they closed the program by saying it would eventuate into "a miracle."

Wait, what? A miracle? I was appalled by what I had just heard. After explaining very dryly and scientifically about an everyday occurrence, they dared to call the conception of a child a miracle? According to


an effect or extraordinary event in the physical world that surpasses all known human or natural powers and is ascribed to a supernatural cause.

"...surpasses all known human or natural powers and is ascribed to a supernatural cause." Last time I checked, blowing a load was not a supernatural cause, though perhaps that belief might explain many a man's high opinion of himself and his duty to his penis. This definition also falls well short in describing any salad dressing I've ever had.

The next two definitions are a little more flexible for use in day to day events:

such an effect or event manifesting or considered as a work of god.

Again, I refer you to load blowing. Also still no good for the dressing.

The third definition might seem like the perfect excuse to use it for anything one finds joyful, but honestly, I think this is a case of the word being bastardised to the point that the dictionary people had to give up and let the miracle abusers in.

a wonder; marvel.

Okay, so a baby is wonderful and marvellous to the parents, but can't people just call it that? The word 'miracle' is so debased when used for something that happens all the goddamned time. While I don't actually believe in miracles, the word is useful for explaining positive, freak occurrences, but they should be saved for such events, not something that successfully occurs nearly a quarter of a million times every fucking day. The word is even further debased when used to describe one of the lowest grade foods on the supermarket shelf.

Now THIS would be a miracle, if only it happened.

If anyone still thinks babies ARE miracles, I ask this: in order to receive sainthood, one needs be devoted to Christ and have performed two miracles. By that definition, aren't there a gazillion devoted Christians entitled to sainthood as long as they have two or more children: aka, miracles?

In searching for other claims of miracles, I found someone declaring their receipt of their visa to stay in the US as being a miracle. As someone who has been through the whole immigration process and dealt with the INS/Homeland Security, I can tell you there are no miracle workers there. Just people processing a lot of paperwork, slowly, and making sure you don't bring diseases into the country and that you know who wrote Star Spangled Banner (Francis Scott Key) If anything, these people are agents of Satan for what they make you go through.

The picture the person had to accompany their visa miracle. 
Newsflash: The earth rotates on its axis at a rate of one revolution every 24 hours. As such, the position of the sun in relation to the earth is constantly changing. Subsequently, light from the sun with pass through various objects, in this case, trees, providing not a miracle, but a lovely photographic opportunity (see above).

Maybe I'm just a grumpy, childless bitch whose never had a little miracle of her own, so I'll keep you posted on my assessment of the fruit of my womb when, if ever, it arrives. I dare say, I will the thrilled, moved and changed beyond words by the experience, but a miracle it ain't. And to be honest with you, I've never tried Miracle Whip either, but it would take an act of God to make me eat that shit.

Addendum: This blog was finished and posted but I had to add this video which was randomly showed to me by my friends this evening. This blog didn't need to be written. This idiotic song says it all.

'Miracles' by Insane Clown Posse. "Fuckin' magnets, how do they work?" It goes there.


Of course, after I thought all this out and said I needed to write a blog about this, Gregg called out to me "The Onion already beat you to it!" Here it is:

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