Amy Alkon, Godless Harlot
Okay, say there is a god. Donít you find it a little disconcerting that the guy who goes by names like ìThe Supreme Beingî reportedly needs constant reassurance that people like him? And how about the notion that heíll go eternally postal on you if you donít spend a pretty good chunk of time on your knees with a bunch of his other peeps, insisting, ìGodís a great guy! Godís a great guy!î? Sure, go with god, if thatís what makes you happy. But, if I were picking somebody to worship, I think Iíd align myself with somebody who felt, well, above that sort of thing.