High on God Part I

Wow, Bob must be one serious masochist. For the second time I went to the Calvary Chapel "retreat" (of which I have previously written) to have people do their utmost to brainwash me and turn me into a mindless happyzombie swaying and mumbling to repetitive praise music. Now of course I enjoyed it as I did before, all but the horrible theologyless preachin' and soul-sucking music.
I arrived and threw my things in a tent, hoping that it was the correct one. I spent the next half hour or so wandering around finding people I knew and meeting people I didn't. After a bit we started a game of football and all the testosterone pumped boys ran about tackling each other to the ground, half the time not even caring if that particular person under them had the ball. Of course true, clean fun could not last. Within fifteen minutes the controlling half-adults decided that we couldn't do anything that would help turn us into not-weenies so it declined into girlish touch football.
Eventually we were herded like cattle to the slaughter from the field to the barn/church. There a band (which to them is almost as holy as "pastor dude" himself) began playing horrible, contentless repetitive crap they call "praise music." the sad thing about this particular setting is that the band was actually pretty good. The bass and drums especially were great, taking the occasional flourish to show that they had actually skill and didn't belong with these idiots. At long last we finished and a guy in a pony tail wandered up on stage. He spewed some crap; we prayed the Prayer of the Just ("Lord, we just want to thank you and, just ask your presence here and just...") and then were free to, once again, light things on fire with gasoline.
There was a nice big bonfire behind the barn followed by a trip to the cemetery; however nobody came up so we didn't get to zombie anyone. For the rest of the night until we were sent to "bed" we wandered about the tiny little unincorporated town that hosted the event. About nine of us traveled in the group and looked like some sort of very pitiful gang, wandering down the middle of the street.
As the call rang out to make for the tents we decided to check the fire to see if it was sufficiently out for exploding. It was.
Four or five people (all friends who we knew) sat around it quietly talking. It had died down to little more than a couple odd flames here and there and a lot of ashes and sparks. We pitched a firecracker in, waited a split second and were rewarded with an explosion, scattering the sparks within a two foot radius and making all four of them fall of their seats, screaming like little girls.
We finished up the day with lots of talking and laughing, not much content to what we were saying but it entertained us. we played various games such as the "sentence game" (going around in a circle with each person adding one more word to the overlong sentence) with each sentence starting with a word like "vodka" or "drowning." you know for innocent fundigelicals they sure know a lot about drinking.
That about sums up day I, lots of explosions and bad theology.