Mark and I recently started attending a very charismatic church that I am quickly falling in love with. Nearly every Sunday I laugh out loud at something our pastor says and today was no different.
Our pastor was describing how when we finally get to see Satan we’re going to be surprised at just how little and not powerful he is. He said that Satan was a master deceiver, the great illusionist. He made us believe that he is strong and powerful, but he really isn’t. In reality, Satan was just a little midget using shadows to make us think he was big. A midget using shadows. On an angle, he added.
I was dying because as he described this little Satan he walked across the stage kicking the imaginary satanic midget.
After church Mark and I usually discuss what we got from the message. He blabbered on about, um, something, and then I got to share. “I loved the ‘Devil is a midget’ shtick. So much so that I think I’m going to Tweet about it.”
Just learned that Satan is a midget.
Before I updated my status I became frozen with fear.
Would I offend any midget Twitterers? Were any of the people following me midgets? Just how tall is Rebecca from Modite? Would “Just learned that Satan is a little person” be better? I couldn’t do it. It would be politically incorrect and socially irresponsible to even kind of insinuate that shorter than average people were in some way demonic or that my pastor would kick them if given the opportunity (he wouldn’t). There were way too many people to possibly offend to make it worth it.
I erased the update and put something about my vacuum cleaner instead.
Then I began to wonder, how close can the internet world become if we’re constantly nagged with the question, “Am I going to offend someone with this?” Because aren’t the very best friendships the ones where you can give each other a hard time? The ones where no one lets you take yourself too seriously?
But those friendships don’t just happen, we don’t just start making fun of each other out of the blue. That’s mean. No, we must first give each other permission to tease by teasing ourselves. There is this weird social contract that, for the most part, if I tease myself about something I’m giving you permission to tease me too. This isn’t always true, but it is lots of the time.
So let’s take internet friendships to a new level, People. You can make fun of my big head, ability to poop on any party (i.e. I’m a party pooper, I do not have irritable bowel syndrome) and that I get stupid, hand sweating nervous around cute boys.
How can I make fun of you today? And if Satan reads this could you give me the ok on the midget thing? Great.