I've been around religious people who begin blathering in Elvish for no apparent reason and I've always been struck with how these people, who have so much to say in their fabricated language, have absolutely nothing of significance to say in english. They drone on and on in their rambling god talk, but when you ask for their opinion on anything of import, the only thing of significance that exits their mouth is mushy bits of yesterdays tuna casserole.
When speaking to these merchants of twaddle you inevitably hear them refer to their chatter as a "gift," as if sounding like a stuttering Romulan was anything to be proud of. God, they say, is using them as a conduit which he doesn't do for just anyone, only those that are worthy of his grace. So right away when a person claims to be speaking in tongues they are openly saying they are special, and not the short bus, cork on the fork, kind of special, but the god thinks you're really neat, kind of special. And people who think they are better than me just because they can communicate with the holy spirit or read without moving their lips, make me sick.
None of their spittle soaked rubbish impresses me in the least bit. I see gaping jaws and widened eyes from astonished observers of this phenomenon, while I stand at a distance wondering how many Cheerios I could flick into their pontificating sin traps. Why would anyone be impressed with this gibberish? As a comparison, my one year old nephew talks incessantly, every word of which sounds remarkably similar to tongues, but nobody listens intently or jots down the rubbish he spews because it's very obvious he is not using language in a cohesive manner. But for some reason, if an adult with a cross in their pocket, makes the same unintelligible grunts, we're all supposed to stand in awe of their connection with god, or Jesus, or Daffy Duck, or whoever the hell it is they claim has entered their soul.
I do give them credit for one thing though, which is their willingness to look like a jack-ass in public. It's one thing to act like this in the privacy of your own sex dungeon, but it's entirely different standing in front of strangers and letting that twattle seep from your gullet. I'm not willing to look that stupid in public which is why I don't speak in tongues or break-dance. Maybe that's why god has decided to bypass me with his magic spooky talk, maybe he only entrusts those with little self-esteem and a penchant for theatrics, with this "gift."
I would also like to point out that I have, on a couple of occasions, attempted to replicate the rumbles and grumbles synonymous with tongues, and guess what, I was able to mimic exactly the same pathetic clamour that dribbles from the mouth of those Jesus clowns. So either the holy spirit has decided to channel itself through the larynx of someone that moons elderly people in the park, or it's all bullshit and anyone can do it. I tend to think the latter is most accurate, and even if it's not, why should I be impressed with someone who can do what I did on my first try? I only admire those who have a unique skill or talent, not those who do exactly what everyone around them can do, it would be like getting awestruck by watching someone urinate.
I can't imagine anyone thinking this odd behaviour is normal unless it had been pounded into their squishy little brain at a very young age. Children can be taught to think the most outlandish of behaviours is ordinary if you can just get to them in their formative years. ISIS has them shooting infidels, schools have them thinking participation trophies have merit, and the internet has them believing oral sex doesn't count. All of this tells me that the human brain is a sponge like substances, slurping up the drivel placed before it like a baby on the teat of stupidity.
Then again, I might be way off base here. Maybe the garbled statements I hear do have structure and meaning but my ears are so thick with waxy sin, they are incapable of hearing the beauty of gods hidden message. Perhaps the reason I can't hear past the verbal distortion is because the devil has made camp in my eardrums, preventing the holy spirit from entering me like a Q-tip wrapped in love.
Either way, I think I'll avoid those who speak in tongues like I would a sequel to Freddy Got Fingered. It may very well be they are saying something of significance, but until I hear someone do it who doesn't belong in a bell tower, or remind me of Wednesday Addams, I think I'll choose to remain skeptical.