…many I’ve spoken with over the years (students, family, colleagues, friends) have this very cartoony notion of god. Either god is this magical fellow making decisions in the sky, or “He doesn’t exist.” Sometimes I wonder if Michelangelo is to blame, (my little mind, always wanting somebody to blame. How about,) the beefcake grandpa on the ceiling, with voluminous silver hair and clingy pink peejays, (nipples erect, yes and, godly buttocks), pointing theatrically at the things he creates. (Zoom! Bada-boom!, is what I hear.) It’s more than a little… over the top. (Stop looking up Glaucon, you’ll pull a muscle.) Doesn’t leave much to the imagination? (Let alone ta meta ta physica.) (Italian Renaissance is the Las Vegas of European cultural history?) (Pretty crazy what passes for monotheism, then and now.) So that when Mickey Mouse came along I think it confused people, they were like, wait a minute, this is really compelling…
