"I could rob you. But I won't. I'll wait for paradise."

Yesterday a pleasant older man came to the door and asked if he could tell me a bit about God.
He was a Jehovah's Witness, he said, and proceeded to read me big passages from a tiny bible.

Before that, however, he said "Oh! You're home! I've knocked a lot ... I could have robbed this house many times!"

This did not engender my sympathy.

His pitch was thus: My neighbor's house was built by someone, even if I didn't witness the act. Therefore, God made the universe ["Doesn't that make sense?"]. Well, that's what I got from it.

Nerd Tangent: This conversation happened as I was five episodes deep into a Star Trek Voyager marathon. It was all I had not to say "Well, maybe our gene pool was seeded by a more advanced species, whom are leaving us be until we develop warp capabilities. Or maybe subspace distortions are keeping them away. Check for tacheyon emissions."

When you're the most sober guy at a crazy, drunken party, you learn not to engage with those who have drunk the most. A drunken conversation is one thing, but draping a napkin over your shoulder while someone spends two hours slurring on about the girl who does/doesn't/might like them lots/too much/not enough/not in the right way/like an ocean to the sea is another.

In much this way, I greeted the pleasant man's every word with "um-hum".

"I don't know if you have your own beliefs...." "Um-hum."

"I quite like this city." "Um-hum."

"Would you like 47 pamphlets?" "Um-hum."

"Doesn't what I've said make sense?" "Um-hum."

"God's going to create a paradise on earth." "Um-hum."

"Shall I visit you again?" "No".

See, I hold no ill will against this man - apart from the 'rob my house' crack. He has his beliefs, and they call on him to spread his message to others. That's cool. But I have my beliefs as well. They don't match.

I could see in this man's eyes that he knew he was getting nowhere, but he pressed on. Apparently, God knows the world stinks, and said ages ago that he'd come back and fix it all up when it got bad. The current poor state of affairs implies that the time must be upon us. Thus, a paradise is imminent.

Actually, that all sounds pretty good. I don't really get why we can't skip to the paradise, but I often make my cat jump before I feed her ham, so maybe it's that kind of dynamic.

The man ended our time together by asking if I wanted some pamphlets. taking my grunt as an affirmative response, he pulled out a stack of light magazines and went through the contents of each one. I reached for them. He recoiled.

"Oh...I...suppose if you'd like more than one you could take them."

"No ... I ... I thought you were offering."

"Oh ... um ... here."

"No ... it's cool. I'll have this one. About moral corruption."

"Ok. Bye."

"Seeya."

It was awkward.

Hopefully I can read the others when the paradise shows up.