Removing The Ten Commandments, Automotively

ON THE CAPITOL GROUNDS of the great albeit a bit benighted state of Arkansas, USA, there quite briefly stood a six foot tall hard rock monolith upon which was chiseled the Ten Commandments, patterned after the Charlton Heston Cecil B. Demille version. Homage to Judeo Christianity in the deep dark American south. Privately funded, state sanctioned, clearly unconstitutional, litigation awaits to ensure its ultimate permanent removal. A mere day after its erection, into it smashed an auto, reducing it to rubble, driven by a man who proclaimed Jesus Christ to be his personal Lord and Savior, but objected to violations of the separation of church and state. He believes that religion should be practiced privately, away from the government. Smart man. The man had done the same thing in Oklahoma a few years back, and was not charged with a crime, but instead given a bit of psycho therapy and let go. In Arkansas, a state even more conservative as Oklahoma, he faces charges. All the man had to do was to wait for the judicial system to remove the rock, but was unwilling to do so. Everyone else who worships the Judeo cdhristian god is perfectly convinced that the statue not only is constitutional in a country they mistakenly imagine was founded on Judeo-Christian principles, (it was founded on secular enlightenment principles, actually) but also believe that its erection is absolutely crucial to good government, and a virtuous society. They are, of course, sadly mistaken. The man who played demolition derby with the thing has real principles; he does not let his devotion to Christianity blind him to constitutional law. Supporters of the big grave stone shaped rock vow to replace it, unsurprisingly. When they do, it will last longer, but not long. And it will bear the same Ten Commandments, the ones which reveal a petty, insecure, angry, jealous deity.