Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Transformers

I have been accused of using misleading titles to lure innocent web-surfers into long winding monologues, just like our newspaper journalists who put all the kick in their screaming headlines and leave none for the actual article. Well, just so we're clear here, this blog post has nothing to do with a movie franchise going by the same title, nor cartoons, nor toys, nor whatever other mass media / money minting / consumer-targeting derivatives thereof. Neither is reference made herein, in any way, to one Kenya Power(less) - word is, the only employees over there who have truly internalized the company Mission and Vision are in the "Disconnection of Electricity Supply" Department :(

Today we go all the way back to my junior year, just before I had almost completed my slow metamorphosis into a nonviolent vegetarian teetotaler (for the most part). This blog has made a mockery of chronological order. To add insult to injury, the events are so historically obsolete as to be near-irrelevant. However, I insist on writing in hindsight, with generous margins of time between an event and its wordy reproduction here. You see, a little afterthought reveals much, even if forethought would have been wiser.
I had not yet learnt that, in relationships, the fine print is always too fine, and I’m shortsighted. Yet my uniform enthusiastic reaction to almost all comers was "Show me the dotted line!" Therefore I burnt my fingers repeatedly. Readers of this blog already know the gruesome general details.

In the midst of these happenings I met Supermodel. (That's supposed to be a term of endearment in my world. The allegation is not too far-fetched, though. She is beautiful.) We shared many classes and bonded something close in the course of three years - during which time I was tempering my philosophically induced atheism with curiosity about the contents of the Bhagavad Gita. One random day we engaged in a heated argument with Supermodel about religious things. (This ran contrary to the social convention of the time, but I was burning with fiery zeal and so was she.)

The argument went badly, as such things are bound to go each time. In conformity with the prevailing philosophic so-called rational mode of thinking I championed at the time, I dismissed her faith as unsubstantiated superstition. Not to be outdone, she rebuked me and my atheism using stern warnings. I smirked and sneered, but she had already started me on the path of rediscovery to Truth.

Truth is, we exist by the grace and mercy of God. To reject or deny this fact is, plainly speaking, foolishness. The fool has said in his heart, "there is no God". There can be no such thing as atheism except through strong delusion and selective learning and very sophisticated-sounding but highly dull-witted philosophy. Such philosophy is no learning at all, but ignorance and lies. Darkness, and deep existential hopelessness. To fear the Lord is wisdom, and to shun evil is understanding.

I owe Supermodel, and many other "transformers" like her, a ton; for having the guts to tell me their convictions straight to my face. Few people bother nowadays. And in a way, this is what those of us who are convinced of and are grateful for God's saving grace through His Son must do with the unbelievers we meet. Share the knowledge. Nothing else counts. In the Bible, we are told to work while it is still day, for night is coming when no one can work. And isn't it evening, or something like that, by any casual reading of the signs of the times? The world may look far gone, but it is still day. Night is coming, when no one can work.

As for Supermodel and I, alas! we parted on unfavorable terms, as is wont to happen with nearly each one of the series of stunning lady-friends I try to secure more wholly unto myself. I should conclude from this trend that I'm jinxed in relationships, but that would pass for unsubstantiated superstition.

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