“One day, a girl was sitting on a bench next to an old man, and she said, “I’ve gotta tell ya’, mister, that’s an awfully boring tattoo on your arm there. It’s just a bunch of numbers.”
The man looks at her, and says, “Well, I got it when I was your age, and I kept it as a reminder.” The girl smiles, saying, “Oh, a reminder of happier times?”
The man shakes his head sadly, and says, “No…of a time when the world went mad. Imagine yourself in a land where your countrymen followed the voice of political extremists who didn’t like your religion. Imagine having everything taken from you, and being sent to a camp as slave labour, then systematically murdered. In this place, they even take your name and replace it with a number tattooed on your arm. It was called the Holocaust, where millions of people perished just because of their faith…”
The girl, stunned, start to cry. She asks, “So you kept it to remind yourself of the dangers of political extremism?”
The man shakes his head again. “No, my dear. To remind you.” – Unknown
—*—
Religion is a funny thing. Well, I guess you don’t say that when your ass is stuck in hell. If the powers were kind, I can hope we are at least put according to our musical tastes as my Kevin would say… but I think I will be listening to pigs squealing and Kevin to Patsy Cline.
Plenty introspection for me at the moment with regards to ‘belief’. Since “The Wall” (see Shirley Valentine for details on how to communicate with Wall or rock) answered and “You are the Starlight” keeps playing in my head. Not quite ready to share deeper than that.
If faith is believing in something you cannot see – what is it that made you believe in whatever your belief is?
I wish you enough,
Wenchy
Nocturnal Wenchy 
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