Sitting in their idling cars with the AC running, they waited their turn to take communion in the form of a typical American factory-farmed chicken breast laced with all the natural goodness of antibiotics, Benadryl, and arsenic (sorry, "organic" arsenic), then rolled in white flour, powdered sugar, butter, salt and deep fried.
In a matter of days, we've seen the meteoric rise of a brand new symbol of moral righteousness: the greasy fast food bag. Long thought of as mere garbage, this former agent of death is now the exulted symbol of a desperate people's moral compass (life imitates art). Politicians like Sarah Palin and Lindsey Graham proudly pose with it (oblivious to how gay their photo opps actually came off). I imagine Republicans will soon be signing pledges of loyalty to their chicken god.
The scenes were repulsive. Supposedly civilized people turning to the drive-through window for a super-sized order of malnutrition, warped spirituality, and bigoted political discourse. (Obesity and arteriosclerosis all being part of God's plan, praise the Lord.)
Though not a God you or I might be familiar with. Rather, a cheap fast-faith God who shares their prejudices, along with free refills of hate and intolerance.