Some things that Mormons say or do out them to just about everyone around. Let's take coffee, for example, and no, I don't mean that Mormons out themselves as Mormons by abstaining from it. Lots of Mormons do abstain from coffee, but a substantial number don't. It's how they don't abstain that blows their cover. They drive to Starbucks in the hours when not too many people should be there so that they shouldn't have to wait too long in the drive-through lane. This greatly reduces the chances of anyone spotting and possibly outing them there. And they certainly don't walk into the place. Unless they're extra bold, that is, and it's December. If it's December they can say they they're getting gift cards for their children's teachers, or their grandchildren's teachers, or their pets' obedience school teachers, or, if they're actually spotted with the contraband in hand, they're purchasing actual coffee for the aforementioned teachers. If this is taken at face value, the the teachers of Mormon children, grandchildren, pets, et al must be either the most lethargic creatures on the planet -- thus in need of coffee -- or the most hopped up teachers in the system from drinking all that free coffee, hand-delivered, no less. We know these things are not true, however. We know exactly who really drinks the coffee.
Another way Mormons out themselves as such is how they react to the mere mention of the name Mitt Romney. While many Republicans may dislike Barack Obama even more, few honestly like Romney. When his names is spoken in the presence of even the average Republican, you'll notice, at the very least, a slight grimace. When November rolls around, most of those Republicans will plug their noses and vote for him, but it will cause them pain to do so . . . unless they happen to be Mormons. The Mormon women will sigh or gush whenever the name Mitt Romney is spoken, almost as though they're twelve yeatrs old and Romney is Justin Bieber.. The men of the fold will wish they were Mitt Romney. The women will wish they were Ann Romney. (Me? Hell, I just wish I had Ann Romney's petty cash fund.) Often they'll go so far as to refer to him as "Brother Romney" or "President Romney." Incidentally, the Mormons referring to Mitt as "President Romney" are not displaying optimism that Romney will be elected by prematurely bestowing upon him the title of president. The honor of the title is graced upon him because he was once (drum roll here) /!/1/!/!/!/!/!/!/1/!/! STAKE PRESIDENT! "What the hell does that mean?" you might ask yourself if you're not Mormon. It means that he got to bully a few thousand other Mormons for several years, leaning on them to put their babies up for adoption if they were unwed mothers, or denying them the opportunity to attend their children's weddings if they didn't pay a large enough portion of their earnings to the LDS church. Out of respect and thanks for these kind deeds, they'll refer to the man as "President Romney" for the rest of his life. Someday some ultra-talented Mormon, probably Senator Orrin Hatch if he lives long enough, may even compose a hymn about Romney. [Note: Italics were used in this case to denote irony. The hymn will almost certainly suck like a Hoover.]
A few Mormons, a very small minority, will decline to support Romney. These non-lock-stepping individuals know they can do what they want in the voting booth, though they'll pay a price if they're too vocal about it. One reason for their disenfranchisement with their church's golden boy is his miraculous transformation to holding political stances that jibe with his church's beliefs now that he needs the conservative Republicans to embrace him in his presidential bid, as opposed to when he needed to appeal to a more liberal base as Governor of Massachusetts. Another reason is his overall creativity with the truth and his apparent comfort with the practice of lying. Etch -a-sketches and flip-flopping aside, some Mormons see through what they perceive as a facade in much the same way as I do.
As much as I'd like to pontificate on my whimsical outlook on the faith of nearly half of my extended family, one-handed typing is an arduous task. I'll continue the next time I'm feeling especially verbose.
Bon soir
I don't believe you really know what you are talking about. I don't know where you've been, but mormons dont think mitt is amazing, and not everybody adores here, neither is he a golden boy for our religion, which is an interesting accusation for someone who isn't part of it. Also, being called president is only something that happens while he holds that office and of course we call him brother, we call all males in our church brothers. and yes, you are quite intelligent, our church puts its time and effort into finding people who can bully our members, you dont know the reasons or any background on the information your trying to give out. Also, nobody is afraid to say that they dont like mitt in our church, the church leaders dont care who we vote for, we can vote for whoever we want and nobody is allowed to persuade anybody to certain decisions on who to vote for. in the end, your words seem like they are based off of very little and incorrect information and the only places you looked up infromation were biased one sided sources who are against mormons, and due to this your argument seems lazy, and your words look like those I would expect of a middle schooler
ReplyDeleteYou're certainly entitled to your anonymous opinion, but that doesn't make it the gospel truth. I've been surrounded by Mormonism for much of my seventeen years on the planet. If my view doesn't jibe with yours, it could be that our experiences have been different, or it could be that you're too close to actually see it. Differences of opinion notwithstanding, thanks for the comment.
ReplyDeleteUhhmm... Well, you absolutely don't know what you're talking about. If Mormon's want coffee they will get the coffee its not like we're a Mormon cult that beats whoever breaks a gospel law. Let's use our head here and think about how Mormon's chose to join the church, they weren't forced. And Mitt Romney has nothing to do with anything. You obviously saw that he was Mormon and decided to base everything off of that. Did him and Barack go neck and neck because the Mormon's made it like that? uhh... No... Don't think so. Sure there are some Mormon's that probably did support him. You have absolutely no reason whatsoever to hate on Mormon's.
ReplyDeleteOh.. and PS.. Stake President means that he's just the president of the church's in that area.. Once again use your head.. And every stake President is very nice and does a ton for our church and enjoys doing it.
This article is so incredibly disrespectful. I don't know how people don't completely hate your guts. It sounds like you're just jealous. Why don't you get a life and stop hating on others. No one cares how you feel because how you feel is unimportant. You obviously know nothing about Mormon's and disrespecting other people's songs and writing... You're an idiot. You're one of the people that deserves to be hated on. This pathetic article is you trying to get attention. Hurting other peoples religion for the sake of your own personal enjoyment is so incredibly sad and just plain pathetic. Get a life.
ReplyDeleteAny rudeness and disrepect in the original article pales in comparison to the hatefulness of this reply. If you're Mormon, show the original article and reply to your bishop. While he may diapprove of the original blog, I'm assuming he would not be very proud of you or supportive of your efforts.
DeleteHow can you possibly know whether or not anyone cares how I feel?
Does Mormonism advocate hate?
Your cousin is an LDS missionary and you're writing all this stuff about the Mormon's? Wow...
ReplyDeleteMy father was also an LDS missionary before he left the LDS Church, as was my uncle, who also left the LDS Church. I have three cousins surrently in the mission field.
ReplyDeleteRegarding the Obama-Romney presidential election, an electoral count of 336 to 202 is not exactly
"neck and neck."
You're entitled to your opinion about your church or mine, just as I'm entitled to my opinion about my church or yours. You can say my opinions don't matter. They matter to me and to those close to me. The fact that they don't matter to you is immaterial. Are you trying to be like Jesus when you calll me an idiot? Doesn't one of your children's songs say something to the effect of, "Love one another as Jesus loves you. Try to show kindness in all that you do. Be gentle and loving in deed and in thought, For these are the things Jesus taught"? I may have missed a word or two, but I think the essence is there. Are you truly "trying to be like Jesus"? The Jesus I know doesn't encourage people to speak to others in the way you've responded to me, even if it is in defense of your church. You may believe that your church is the one true church, and you're certainly entitled to your beliefs, but not everyone agrees with you, and our beliefs may be as deep-rooted to us as yours are to you.
Regarding coffee, yes, an LDS person is free to drink coffee, but when temple recommened interview time comes around, if he or she is honest about having consumed coffee on anything resembling a regular basis, odds are against the person being granted a temple recommend.
I have an uncle who is currently serving as a stake president and another uncle who served as one until about nine months ago. The uncle who is a former stake president is a tremendously nice man. The one currently serving is unkind, selfish, and not particularly honest. You can argue with me all you would like, but I know him far better than you do becuse he's my uncle. Saying all stake presidents are nice is about as accurate saying all tangerines are sweet. If you believe that all stake presidents are righteous during their times of service, you might want to read up on the actions of Dr. John Parkinson of Fairfield, California, and his activities, some of which occurred when he was a stake president. I'm not trying to paint all stake presidents with the same brush as Dr. Parkinson, but suggesting that all stake presidents are righteous, or even nice guys, is grossly oversimplifying matters.
Whether you choose to accept my assertion or not, I know more about the LDS Church than you think. The reason most people who know me don't hate me is that I am a nice person and that the people with whom I associate don't really hate anyone's guts.
I have a very full life. This blog is a form of stress release for me. If you are seriously bothered by what you have read here, I would encourage you not to read my blog anymore. (It's not always about the LDS church, but my topics sometimes veer in that direction, and when they do, I label it clearly. Reading my blog and then complaining about my anti-LDS sentiments is akin to buying a clearly pornographic magazine and then complaining that the literature and pictures within are not honest, true, chaste, benevolent, or virtuous. Read at your own risk; I do not advertise falsely.
If, on the other hand, it somehow makes you feel better about yourself or your church to come here, read, and leave vitriolic, hate-filled, and un-Christlike comments, you are most welcome to do so. Perhaps releasing your frustrations against people such as me will allow you to go back to your real life and pretend to be the inwardly devout Latter-day Saint that you very likely are not. I didn't realize that Mormons were encouraged to hate the guts or any other body part of others.
May peace be with you.
They are not encouraged to hate. But I find it rude that you are getting on here and badmouthing Mormons when it sounds like you once were one. I apologize for the idiot but I was upset. And I do have a right to be.
ReplyDeleteI'm not saying all Mormons are perfect or anything but I happen to not be a Mormon. I know lots of them and they are incredibly happy. I may not agree with all of what the Mormons do but I certainly do not get on a blog and trash talk and make Mormons feel like crap. It's rude. All you are doing is hurting people that honestly haven't done anything to you.
I am not meaning that every single Stake president is nice and a joy to be around all the time. When I was a Mormon they wanted nice and honest stake presidents but it doesn't always end up that way. Does your father or family enjoy you badmouthing the Mormons?
My parents certainly look down upon it and I don't blame them.
Once again.. What did Mormons ever do to you for you to hate them?
This is a multi-part response because it is too long to fit in a sing response slot. A part of it seems somewhat incredible, and it is your choice to believe or to disbelieve it, but I know it happened becsuse I lived through it.
ReplyDeleteWhen I was two, I was restrained at the front of an LDS chapel by my grandfather and uncles-by-marriage to be "blessed" without the knowledge of my parents, who most certainly would not have approved because they had previously had me baptized Catholic and took me to mass every week. The time at which I was blessed was one of the few childless weekends my parents had since my twin brother and I were born. My paternal grandparents (my Catholic matternal grandparents died before we were born) offered to babysit us for the first time ever, and my parents took them up on the offer so that they could sp my brend a weekend skiing. It turned out that the whole babysitting offer was just a ruse to haveother and me blessed, as my parents would never have allowed it.
Immediately after the "blessing," my grandfather moved to to take me out of the chapel and, in his words, according to my biological uncle, who had just returned from a mission but refused to participate in restraining a child against her will to "bless" her, "beat her bare butt" because I had cried and screamed loudly while being restrained by six fully grown men. The uncle who had refused to participate, much bigger and stronger than my grandfather, held onto me and told my grandfather that he was not taking out of the building to beatme or to do anything else. My grandfather gave in and let go of me.
One of my uncles held on to my lower leg so firmly during the "blessing" that it left a noticeable bruise. I have vague memories of the incident, but most of what I know is what my uncle told my parents. This was my introduction to the LDS church.
Other issues I have are with members of my family who happen to be Mormon, as opposed to having major issues with the LDS church itself. The paternal side of my family has its strengths and weaknesses, much like any other family. Many of my father's sisters have more children than they can comfortably support. While how many babies to have is their business, I reserve the right to comment on it when they call my parents and ask for financial asssistance. I wont call the assistance "loans" because never once have my parents been paid back by these relatives. My paternal grandfather, who holds a high position in the LDS church that I do not feel comfortable disclosing) has been asked for financial help by his struggling married offspring. He refuses to help them despite the fact that he probably has twice as much money as my parents will ever have, but tells them to ask my father instead. my father helped several times. After a specific incident which /i will soon divulge, my dad now tells the pan-handling relatives that perhaps they should pay their motgage and ensure that they have enough food for the month before paying their tithing, as what he would be doing were he to help them financially would be, in essence, indirectly subsidizing the LDS church, and he chooses not to do so.
I will now give you the reader-s diget condensed version of the incident involving a particular biological aunt and her husband that caused my father to choose not to provide any more financial assistance to his siblings. Again, this aunt and uncle do not comprise the entire membership of the lDS church, but because the uncle-by-married involved was a counselor in a stake presidency, I feel comfortable in stating that the actions of this couple, while perhaps not directly attributable to the LDS church, are still rflective of it.
Part 2
ReplyDeleteThree years ago I had an athletic accident that resluted in a fracture of my clavicle and a serious compound fracture of my tibia and fibula; infection is common in compound fractures, and mine was no exceotion, to an extent that came close to resulting in amputation of my lower leg and foot. Fortunately for me, superior medical care and perhaps divine intervention spared my leg and foot, and the scars are barely noticeable today.
At one point early in my recovery, I developed a kidney infection that was worsened both by resistance I had developed to the antibiotic that was initially used to treat the infection and by my difficulty in making it to the bathroom by myself. My mother is a leukemia survivor who also had Graves Disease, and she has more health issues than do most people her age.At the time of my kidney infection, my mom was fighting two especially stubborn kidney stones that were going to be zapped with lithotripsy if they were not passed in a mattr of days. It was all she could do to take care of herself. She couldn't take cre of me. My father has some degree of flexibility with his work schedule and can do some work from home, but he eventually has to show up at one of the hospitals with which he is affiliated to complete projects. He had spent as much time at home as he reasonably could.
I have an aunt who lived in the town in which I lived at the time, and I normally would have gone to her house under such circumstances, but she had been scheduled for months in advance to fill in for vacation time for a nurse practitioner in her husband's medical office. even had it not been rude and inconsiderate to back out, it was too late. The vacationing nurse practioner had already left town.
Then one of my father's sisters called asking for money. That particular sister's husband is a physician. Their need for money despite my uncle's presuably substantial salary had something to do with having overextended themselves to buy a beautiful home while they had one child on a mission and another at BYU, and five more living at home. My parents thought it was a way of managing two problems at once. my aunt and uncle could be paid to care for me as opposed to my parents just handing them money. The amount of money paid to them (in advance upon my arrival) was substantial, as my uncle was providing medical supervision, and so my parents paid him the going rate for office visits in addition to paying for my daily care. (They considered attempting to bill our insurance carrier for the medical portion, but that was before the disaster.)The aunt and uncle lived in Nevada at the time, while we lived in northern California, but my Uncle Steve was attending a medical conference for a week in Reno, and it was only about two hours out of his way to drive me to their home, and on his way back he was to pick me up and bring me home.
My Uncle Steve delivered me to the relatives' beautiful home and left me in my wheelchair in the living room, as the bedroom in which I was to sleep was "upstairs." My uncle Steve offered to carry me up, but my aunt said the bed was not yet ready. My Uncle Steve left enough pre-filled syringes with my antibiotics for twice-daily injections, which my uncle-by-marriage would administer in morning and evening.
Part Three
ReplyDeleteWhen my uncle-by-marriage arrived got home from his Sunday meetings several hours later, he carried me up the main flight of stairs, then up another unfinished wooden set of stairs into an attic. In the unfinished atic was a cot with a sleeping bag. I expressed concern that it would be a lot of trouble for someone to help me get to the bathroom. That was when my aunt brought up a package of the largest size of store-brand Pull-ups along with a small package of baby wipes, which she had on hand because her almost-four-year-old was not yet potty trained. She told me my toileting needs could be managed that way. (The generic pull-ups actually fit because I'm small-boned and thin anyway, and the injury and illness had left me considerably thinner.) My uncle didn't give me an injection, but I didn't complain, as I've never been fond of injections.
By Tuesday it became obvious that my illness was worsening.
On Wednesday morning when my aunt came to the attic to deliver my daily rations,which each day consisted of a stale English muffin, a peanut butter sandwich, and a smal container of Spaghettios in addition to a recycled Sprite bottle half-to-three-quarters full of water, I mentioned feeling feverish and sick, and asked about the injections I was supposed to have been receiving. My aunt said that I'd be gone in two days, and she seriously doubted that I'd die before then.
In the meantime, I had developed moderately severe diarrhea. i was seriously conerned about running out of pull-ups, as my aunt had told me thhe package was my supply for the week. By trying to delay changing soiled pull-ups immediately to avoid running out of them, I gaave myself a rash, which seemed to worsen by the hour. The kidney infection had perhaps made the urine -- what little there was, as I was pretty dehydrated by this point -- more acidic, because it seemed to make my skin burn and sting whre the rash was all the more.
On Thursday morning, maybe an hour after my aunt had delivered the day's rations, smoke alarms began sounding. I assumed they'd stopped shortly - that maybe something had overcooked a bit in the kitchen and that my aunt would take care of it. They didn't stop. smoke evenutally rose to the level of the attic and wass seeping in under the closed door. After a few minutes, it became apparent that if anyone was going to rescue me, it probably would have already happened.
I slid in my sleeping bag to the floor, then scooted on my bottom the best I could with the use of one arm and one leg. I went down the stairs on my bottom one step at a time, by then having ditched the sleeping bag because it seemed to be slowing me. [I'm leaving out a detail here that would make me appear heoric because I don't wish to appear to have delusions of grandeur anymore than a reader might already surmise.]
Part Four
ReplyDeleteI made my way down the hall and down the house's main staircase, then to the front door. The house was filled with smoke, which appeared to be coming from the kitchen, but no flames were present.
Coughing to the point of nearly choking,
I reached from my sitting position to the doorknob to open the door. The knob turned, but the door wouldn't budge no matter how hard I pulled. I used my good arm to pull myself to a standing position, where I felt along the side of the door that opens, because the smoke was thick enough that I couldn't see the door clearly. my uncle had installed a high deadbolt so that the almost-four-year-old couldn't escape through the from door. I turned it, opened the door, and basically fell flat on my face onto the front porch.
It occurred to me that staying on the porch wasn't the smartest thing to do if the house was on fire, so I rolled over, sat up, and slowly scooted on my bottom down the steps and accross the lawn to the curb. By this point I felt too weak to sit up, but I was afraid any passers-by wouldn't notice me if I were lying on the edge of the damp lawn or in the gutter.
It seemed like an eternitybefore anyone drove into their cul-de-sac. Almost everyone worked, but one lady, a teacher, was at home that day because her child was sick, and she was returning from having taken the child to the doctor. she pulled out her cell phone and called 9-1-1 immediately.
I was transported to the local hospital, then airlifted to another hospital. one of my kidneys had shut down completely, and the other was barely functioning. I also had a severe staff infection form my "diaper rash."
The cause of the smoke was that right before my aunt had brought up my daily rations, she had put some concoction in the oven that was supposed to bake for ten minutes at 400 degrees, then be reduced to 325. then she got a call from her eight-year-old's school that her daughter was ill. She hurried out the door with her baby and her toddler, picked her daughter up at school, and forgot all about both me and concoction that was only supposed to have babked for ten minutes at 400 degrees. An hour and a half later, it looked like a three-alarm fire minus the flames, although I believe only one fire engine, a fire department paramedic truck, and an ambulance showed up.
Part Five
ReplyDeleteI recovered, although I was in the hospital for about ten days until my kidneys were functioning more or less normally. I still have a scar from a dialysis port and slight scars from my staphylococcal "diaper rash."
Whatever is Nevada's version of Child Protective Services investigated. All minors were removed from the home temporarily. The rationale was that if they could neglect me to the degree that they did, what guarantee was there that their own children were receving adequate care. The house itself wasn't livable for almost two weeks anyway because of the smoke damage. The children were returned one or two at a time. The youngest two were the last returned, probably because they were considered the most vulnerable and least able to protect themselves, but the family was eventually reunited.
All of the LDS relatives except for my grandmother, who stayed out of it totally, and my Uncle Michael and his wife, who thought the other aunt and uncle should have faced criminal charges, blamed me for their family being separated during the time that CPS or its equivalent intervened. My grandfather harbors ill will toward me to this day.
This incident never received any news coverage, not that I would have wanted it to, because the little town and the entire county were heavily populated and essentially run by Latter-Day Saints, and my uncle was in the stake presidency.
I know that not all Mormons are as irresponsible (or worse) as my aunt and uncle, and not all are so biased as to hold a grudge against a fourteen-year-old girl who was very ill because she managed to have paramedics called when she barely escaped a dangerously smoky house. Still, my relatives are highly prominent Mormons. Mormons are told to conduct themselves as though others are looking at them and judging the church by what they see. many of my relatives fail miserably on this count.
I could relate more incidents to back up my feelings, but they're just feelings and don't really need to be backed up, anyway.
If anyone pokes fun at Catholicism, I usually laugh right along with them. So does the rest of my family, including my parents. We laugh together at things we perceive as absurdities of our own and other religious or political ideologies as well.
When I write something that is either derogatory to the slightest degree or makes light of the LDS church, if I receive a negative comment, it's usually, "You don't know what you're talking about!" I don't care who does or does not believe me, but I actually do know what I'm talking about. I've had a great deal of exposure to the LDS church and its members, related and non-related, at all levels of the church. One can agree or disagree with me, but anyone who says I don't know what I'm talking about is misinformed.
What you and the other "anonymous" said to me is far more inflammatory than anything I've ever said about the LDS church. I accept your partial apology. It's probably a good thing that you made it clear that you're not LDS, because when a person speaks for a church, the assumption is that the person is a part of that church. Had you been a part of the LDS church, you would have presented your church in a most unfavorable light. The original anonymous, who presumably is of the LDS fold, did just that.
Lighten up. Life is too short to blow a head gasket over any blog that irks you. If something you read starts to sound as though it will anger you and cause you to write things for which you will later apologize, perhaps that is a sign that you should put down the book or magazine, or click off the particular link. In the long run you'll be much healthier and happier if you do.
I wish you well.
If your anonymous commenters want vitriol about Mormons, send 'em to my blog... Where I fight fire with fire! ;-)
ReplyDelete