The mental gymnastics it takes to scam yourself like this are just STAGGERING.
Must be nice to rattle off scripture like machine gun fire while being able to spin virtually ANY of it in any way that's convenient to serve whatever point you're trying to make at the particular moment.
I guess that's one of the perks of having a god that writes ambiguous, open-ended, easily misconstrued gibberish in it's biography. It serves as a kind of philosophical rorshack test - just vague enough an ink blot to suggest 10 different things to the willing rube, yet just specific enough to be a semi-coherent text that can be read aloud for fun and profit.
Christ, can't people just ADMIT IT when they've got nuthin'? Do we really have to do this wack-a-mole "Hit 'em with a rolled up newspaper and rub their nose in it" song-and-dance every time? It's embarassing to everybody involved. It's embarassing to the theist because it's clear that they've s**t all over the carpet, and it's embarassing to the atheist because we have to stand there and watch them wander around the room all doe-eyed going "What? What s**t? I don't see any s**t. Oh that? That's not s**t. Clearly. It's obviously a cake that has yet to be eaten by somebody who's time travelling backwards."
Gah. WTF ever happened to intellectual honesty or integrity? :shrug
No. Instead we get this grasping-for-straws, twist the words around gimmick where words and sentences don't really mean what they say. Why not? Let's change meanings and definitions and "come to rational conclusions" based on irrational statements for EVERY book. That way, you'd never have to face the unpleasent notion that the facts didn't line up with your pre-conceived conclusions!
I bet I could paint Hannibal Lector as a quantum Buddhist if I followed Christian interpretational tactics.
"I can smell your _______ , Clarise!" -
Cleary here he was saying that a"smell", being the essence of Clarise's latent molecular structure, was directly indicative of an Enlightened state that resided within the metaphorical ____, being of course a higher plane of consiousness that resides between two worlds, much like a person's genitals are (usually) located between two legs.
Easy enough. Except the guy who wrote Silence of the Lambs wasn't an ALL KNOWING *GOD*. It was written by a person. I don't think it's unreasonable to expect a *GOD* would have the clarity of thought and eloquent mastery of language to say what it fucking means, in no uncertain terms, without being vague or cryptic or leaving things open to interpretation.
Hell, even the Tao of Pooh and Chicken Soup for the Soul are fifty times as clear on these things.
This **** makes my head spin.