Decalogue 2.0

Recently, on Facebook, I made a comment about religion. Lesson learned. I won't be doing that again.

It seemed like a good idea at the time. I had just watched a debate between an atheist and (to use common parlance) a clueless, close-minded, non-scientific, deluded idiot. The atheist, named Christopher XXX, was clever and literate, and clearly had convictions. For example, he was apparently boycotting shampoo, and seems to have valiantly stuck with his anti-Prell protest since, roughly, the Crusades. At one point during the debate, his forelock fielded a question.

(I don't know Christopher XXX personally, but I bet that, as an atheist, it must really chap him when he contemplates the first six letters of his name.)

Anyway, after watching the debate, I thought up a new philosophic worldview, and wanted to share it with my 86,417 Facebook "friends," a group that includes forty people I actually know and three strangers who claim to be practicing vampires.

Looking back, it made sense. Looking back usually does make sense, unless you're driving, or trying to outrun a vampire. In those cases, you should not look back, but just focus on getting where you're going, after which you should immediately update us on Facebook. I'm sure that, somewhere on Facebook, there's a "One-Legged Vampires" fan page.

I called my new philosophy "Barry's Relatively Absolute Theology." The core tenet of being a BRAT is a simple one: nobody has a right to tell me what to do, but I have every right to tell you what to do. How sweet is that, eh? Plus, all the heavy metaphysical lifting has already been done, since the discovery that Original Sin was George Bush's fault.

As a BRAT, I was particularly well-suited for the next step in my project: upgrading the Ten Commandments. The "absolute" part ensures that the Commandments are universal, while the "relative" part ensures that they are only universal from my perspective; that my laws only apply to what other people do. Think of it as a mix of timeless self-centered dogma and current Congressional behavior.

Now, in keeping with the relative nature of my philosophy, it holds that different situations have differing realities, because I said so. So I realize the need to provide several sets of rules, unique for several situational sets, but binding within all possible behavioral buckets. And, like Christopher XXX, I have the nerve, and I have the time. Plus, I own a comb.

So, here are the bucket lists of candidate commandments, currently under review by a whole team of BRATs. Perhaps you'll disagree with our lists, or perhaps you have your own. We don't care. That's the whole point of being a BRAT.

Bucket I: Driving & Traveling

• Thou shalt not drive in the passing lane at speeds normally associated with funeral processions, or golf carts.
• Thou shalt not leave thy turn signal blinking for 217 consecutive cubits.
• Thou shalt not attempt to board a plane with thy carry-on bag that is approximately the size of Lake Michigan.
• Thou shalt not drive a moped on public streets. For it is written: nay, thou dost not, in fact, own yon whole stinkin' road.
• When waiting for the light to change, thou shalt not explore the depths of thy nasal cavities.
• Thou shalt not borrow my car, tune the radio to the "Extremely Angry Grunge Band" station, and leave the volume set at "Attack of the Decibel Monster."
• Get off thy cell phone.

Bucket II: Media & Marketing

• Thou shalt not keep saying stuff is "absolutely free! you just pay shipping!"
• Thou shalt stop selling hot dogs in packs of 10 and hot dog buns in packs of 8.
• Thou shalt get it through thy thick heads that very few of us are concerned about our daily intake of bifidus regularis.
• Thou shalt never again say "I just wanted to reach out to you" with a straight face.
• Thou shalt cut it out already with the "please listen carefully, for our menu options have changed" declarations. Nobody's sitting at home thinking, "Six! Whaddaya mean, six? Last time your useless software crashed, I pressed eight!"
• Thou shalt stop screaming "Fox News Alert" when thy next news story is some lame fluff piece about cat obesity.
• Get off my cell phone.

Bucket III: Consumers & Coworkers

• Thou shalt not send me an email, then call me to ask, "did you get my email?"
• Thou shalt not sneak more than 10 items through yon "10 items or less" lane. Ten meanest ten. If I promised ten Commandments, then presented thee with twenty-six, thou wouldst not appreciate it, wouldst thou?
• Thou shalt absolutely stop using "interface" as a verb. And "incentivize." And "efforting." Stop it.
• Thou shalt not act like you're the first person in the history of grocery shopping to write a check. Nor shalt thou wait till the last possible second to begin scrabbling around in your Lake Michigan-sized purse for exact change.
• When at thy favorite fast-food franchise, thou shalt decide what thee wants to eat before walking up to yon counter.
• Turn down thy cell phone.

Bucket IV: Congress & Other Cathouses

• Thou shalt not take a cell phone call in the middle of a citizen's question, you rude, condescending ego-zeppelin.
• Thou shalt keep thy nose out of our business. On personal issues, such as how much our kids weigh, thou shalt shut up.
• Thou shalt stop asking to be re-elected so thee can fight for term limits.
• Thou shalt not "save" the economy, or education, or banking, or health care, nor shalt thou dance on the head of a pin, because thou so hast not a clue how stuff really works out here. Get over thyself.
• The next time thou actest like a rude, condescending ego-zeppelin, thou shalt immediately explode into 23 bukukillion pieces. We hopest.

Bucket V: Family & Friends

• Thou shalt not pirate DVDs, or remove that little "Do Not Remove" tag from your mattress.
• Thou shalt not almost, but not quite, finish the milk and then leave yon carton in yon fridge. If I catch you doing this, I will bust thee up.
• Dude. Thou shalt not, like, use, like, "like" and stuff as every other, like, word in your, like, sentence. Obviously, thy public education system has let thee down.
• Honor thy parents for the rest of this year. Beginning next year, honor thy government nanny.
• When thou meetest thy foe on the field of battle, and thou art behind by 14, and thy foe is clearly showing blitz, thou shalt not send forth thy tight end on a deep slant pattern.
• Thou shalt not slam the screen door, for verily, thy parents-slash-government nanny brought thee up better than that. Wast thou raised in a barn?

By the way: if you run into Christopher XXX, please don't refer to him as Christopher Thirty. But feel free to call him X-opher. He'll love that.