TEC: Chapter 52, Part 1: Mr. Sensitive
As we all know, Michael Murphy is the most sensitive of guys. And if there are any issues on which we could guess he would be extra sensitive, they are:
- Racial profiling
- Women being touched by strange men
They’re back again in the security line at the airport, which I guess means that Murphy chose to drive to D.C. to meet Isis and Willard, because otherwise he could have just met them at the connection and they wouldn’t be going through security together.
But it’s good that he did that, because now he can listen to Isis talk about a past experience with a putdown search, which made her “almost feel violated” (emphasis mine).
Huh. It’s almost as though RTCs are against men touching women against their will, but we all know that’s not true:
Seriously, you guys know I listen to Christian radio regularly. And I can assure that I have heard a damn bit more “oh sure, vulgar talk is bad and all, but Hillary is with Satan,” than “sexually assaulting women is absolutely wrong, so do not vote for such a man.”
Ah, timely references.
Murphy has nothing to say to this (or at least that’s where Phillips chose to cut the scene), and we immediately move on to racial profiling:
Murphy began to survey the crowd, imagining what he would look for if he were a security guard. Would it be a little old woman with a knitting bag, or would he be drawn to someone from a Middle Eastern descent?
Knowing Murphy, I think we all know the answer to that question. And I have one thing to say to you and your hunt for “more Arabs“:
“I almost feel sorry for those of other cultures who are being looked at as potential terrorists,” Murphy began, “but I think there’s no way to stop that.”
“Look at us. We’re innocent passengers, yet we have to stand in line and be treated like potential terrorists. Everyone is in the same boat.”
No, they aren’t, Murphy. You just admitted you’re in a different boat, since you’re in the boat for people who aren’t “from a Middle Eastern descent.” You gigantic prick.
They get to the plane, apparently without being searched or questioned or “treated like potential terrorists,” which gives Murphy time to whine about traveling:
Murphy sat down in the aisle seat next to [Isis]. He didn’t like window seats. They were too confining. Besides, he liked to get up and walk around every now and then without climbing over people. He enjoyed traveling to foreign countries and meeting new people, but hated the long plane flights to get there.
OH MY GAWD YOU GIANT BABY SHUT UP I DON’T CARE AND YOU’RE NOT EVEN PAYNG FOR THIS DAMN FLIGHT
Murphy heads right into a romantic conversation with Isis, getting quickly to Isis’s own “Jesus, who’s that?” moment:
“What do you mean, ‘the end of days’?” Isis asked, curious.
It was a mediocre thriller starring Arnold Schwarzenegger, Isis, my dear.
So Isis, a well-educated woman who works with languages, has never even heard the phrase “end of days”? And it’s never occurred to her in these months she’s been falling in love with Murphy, to dig a bit deeper into his wacko beliefs?
Murphy then spends TWO PAGES reading the Bible to Isis and lecturing her about war and famine. Isis starts getting depressed and even has the spine to call him on his shit:
“Why are you telling me all of this?”
So much for a relaxing plane trip, though, because Murphy just keeps on rolling.
“What do you think is the biggest and most devastating disease today?”
Okay, so I’m wrong. It’s heart disease. But if there’s one person who shouldn’t be wrong in their answer, it’s Isis, because she’s written by Phillips, who likes Wikipedia, which careful lays out exactly why Isis is wrong when she says:
No, Murphy, she is not right. She’s wrong. It’s still heart disease. But hey, talking about AIDS lets you talk about the extra-strong strains of the disease that were actually in the news when the book was written, and mention the “panic in the gay community.”
Sure, Murph, because AIDS is God’s punishment for the gayness, right?
I want to mention that the plane has barely taken off at this point. And they’re going to be in the air for the next TWELVE HOURS AT LEAST.
Poor Isis. Poor, poor Isis. You know she is just now feeling her stomach sink as she realizes she forgot her Beats By Dre.
Murphy reveals the cherry of his depressing sundae of war, pestilence, earthquakes, and AIDS:
“The question is, if we are overwhelmed by these tragedies…shouldnt we be even more concerned with sin, which destroys the human soul and separates us from a holy God?”
Ah, the RTC’s favorite excuse for not giving a shit about real problems.
And even after all this, our Stepfordized Isis falls asleep on Murphy’s shoulder, feeling “safe, comfortable, and protected.”
Which is always how I feel after chatting about famine and death and Hell!