You sit down to a beautifully golden rotisserie chicken and maybe some baked beans and slaw. Iced tea, even. Since you have faith in a higher power, you say grace before stuffing your face full of what used to be living creatures…
Yeah, let’s step back a second. That spread used to be alive. That chicken? It had it’s own life, feelings, experiences, and enjoyed it’s meals just as you do.
The chicken on your plate has forfeit it’s life so that you can enjoy 20 minutes of yours.
I think you can figure it out from here, but if you can’t…. Thank the fucking chicken!
God might appreciate your gratitude towards him/her/it, whatever. A truly awesome creator would rather you should appreciation, gratitude, and understanding towards that creator’s creatures.
If my son gave his toy car to another child, then that child thanked me, I would half expect my boy to jerk that car right out of the other kid’s hands.
Thank you Mr. Chicken! I recognize my life is as significant or lacking in significance as your life.