Why I Don’t Want A Christian Bus Driver
I want to ride in an atheist-driven bus. My problem isn’t with the driver’s personal choice of religion, even though we’ll probably never get started if the side of the vehicle reads “There’s Probably No God, So Stop Worrying And Enjoy Your Life”.
Driver hissy-fits may be annoying, but they pale into insignificance beside the real threat of Christ-addled drivers – disassociation.
Even discounting the unlikely event that Your Friendly Driver Is …Keith… will suddenly evaporate, or rise ethereally through the roof of the bus, or however they choose to do it (I understand the church is in consultation with George Lucas’s effects people), my major concern is…
A sticker advising me that my driver’s mind is mostly in heaven while he’s on the job? Not good for my confidence, thanks. I want a driver whose apprehension of death or injury matches or exceeds my own, not some guy marking time till his sky-fairy says, “Grab your things, I’ve come to take you home.”
And don’t get me started on planes.
That Sully bloke who put the jet down on the Hudson River: I’ll have a down-to-earth guy like him in case of emergency, not somebody content to lead his fellow-plummeters in a prayer over the cabin intercom.
Dear drivers and pilots, if my life is in your hands, I would prefer to live it here. For a long time, if possible. Your assistance is appreciated.