Ronnie Mcbrayer is a syndicated columnist. I came across the following on the Detroit Times website.
"Last week my son asked me a profound theological question: 'Why did God make stinging bugs?' Stumped, I told him to talk directly to God about it. Which he did."
Not hearing back, he, naturally, turned to Brother Sam. I will tone down the language in deference to the sensibilities of my youthful questioner.
Dear Misguided,
You're just fucking with Brother Sam, aren't you, boy? Just to get a rise out of me, right? I mean, with the assumption of God built right into your question that way. And you do understand, do you not, that this business of parents wheedling out of answering their children's questions by referring them to God is one of the main themes of Sam Singleton Atheist Evangelist, If the Ocean was Whiskey and God was a Duck. You should buy the book. In fact, it's original title was 500 Questions God Can't Answer, which is ironic. You see, God can't answer shit. Get it? And it's a rotten lie to suggest to a child that there's this invisible sky spirit taking questions. Being a big boy, you don't still believe in Santa do you? Of course not. That's a good boy. Well, Santa and God are both lies parents tell to children. Neither exists.
So, since God can't, and your daddy won't, answer your question, it falls to Brother Sam to straighten your young ass out regarding stinging bugs. The very first thing to know about stinging bugs is that God has got nothing to do with them. In fact, from this moment until you die, anytime anybody so much as mentions God, you can tell 'em we've already been over that. They keep on bothering you about it, loose seven or eight hundred fire ants down their pants. Give 'em, oh, no more than a minute, and God will be the last thing on their mind, even though they may repeat his boy's name a time or two.
You want to know any more about stinging bugs, ask a goddamn entomologist. You want to know about silence, ask God. You want to know about ignorance, ask your daddy.
Love,
Brother Sam