But then, perhaps we are all unraveling, all to the enjoyment of our viewers all over the world. Hey Bob, here goes the freaking region again. Don’t those people ever get tired of being mad?
Well, I guess not. We wouldn’t be true to form if we did. Besides, there is a certain intriguing, if not downright bewitching, quality to our madness that keeps the entire world fixated upon us, and we’d just die, not to mention kill, to remain the center of global attention. In some crazy way, but not so counterintuitive really, this does justify our “faith.” When you are chosen, it does not matter in the least for which you are chosen: blessedness or damnation, so long as you are chosen.
And we are chosen. Ours is the story, no, the history, of the continuous unraveling of all those who are chosen. If you cannot make any sense of that, just keep on watching our continuous show, for eventually, it will dawn upon you. It will dawn upon you, and you will get caught up in its intricacies just like the rest of us. Chosenness rubs off.