Of late, whenever I’m approached at a red light by someone from a church organization looking for a donation to keep drugs off kids or trout-mouth slatterns out of the Senate offices or whatever, I tell them I’m an atheist. I’m not (per se), but it ends the discussion and makes me feel like I’ve ruined someone’s good time. I know. It’s horrible of me, and it’s also becoming something of a compulsion. One that I’m going to have to get control of, especially after what I did a few minutes ago.

Last night, we had snow in Austin, and my friend Ann changed her status on Facebook to something about how we should all pray for more snow, and then this happened:

It gets worse, the respondent is a kid, maybe 19. It’s like firing cannonballs at a dinghy, I know, but… eek. This is not good, and certainly not in the Christmas Spirit. I’m not moved to apologize or delete the comment, mind you. I’m more concerned about my becoming someone I wouldn’t want to hang out with.