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If there’s one thing we can all agree on, it’s that this country is falling apart for lack of religious belief. Think of America’s finest moments—our Nazi-stompin’, steam engineerin’, self-evident truthin’ glory days: they all came at moments when we were at our most religious. From curing polio to integrating the public schools, church has been the principle contributor to this nation’s success. And yet it has become unpopular. After childhoods witnessing our parents’ delirious happiness with traditional values, a new generation of Americans has turned from spiritual pursuits to heartless science, admittedly fun but empty internet dating, and leaving gay people alone. Today is Friday, and we have hidden our light under a bushel. Won’t you let it shine with me?

First, the good news: the Obama administration’s willingness to let people opt out of the Affordable Care Act’s insurance mandate on religious grounds has fueled membership in health care ministries, which is basically unregulated health insurance for church people. Participants agree to adhere to a “Biblical lifestyle” that abstains from alcohol and tobacco—two substances the Bible expressly forbids—and pay a monthly fee, in exchange for which they get accident and illness coverage but not preventative care. If you feel your religion dictates that you oppose health insurance reform but you’re not sure why, a health care ministry may be for you. It’s not regulated by your state’s insurance board and its policies don’t meet the minimum standards of federal law, but at least you get the “personal satisfaction of helping out [your] fellow Christians with major health care costs,” instead of inadvertently paying for some black lady’s abortion.

The important thing is that what kind of health insurance you buy is now a reflection of your sincere religious beliefs. It seems like we’re stretching the expressions of belief and preference that we’re willing to call religious, while perhaps comparatively diminishing the value of all forms of thinking that are not religious, but at least we’ve given every American an unfalsifiable claim to immunity from federal law. Over at the Satanic Temple, which has pretty much become a full-time satire organization, spokesminions have claimed exemption from state laws requiring them to review pro-life materials before getting an abortion. Hobby Lobby v. Burwell, yo: it is perhaps the best Supreme Court decision ever to happen to satirists, unless you count Hustler Magazine v. Falwell. Also, who knew the devil was so funny? Oh, right: everyone.

Granted, there are some cultures that do not consider the devil funny at all. In the Pakistani town of Gujranwala, an angry mob killed a woman and her two granddaughters after another member of her sect was accused of posting blasphemous material on Facebook. The woman was Ahmadi, a sect that considers itself Muslim but was declared non-Muslim by the Pakistani government in 1984. I’d just like to take a moment to point out that one of our most valuable allies in the fight against terrorism was passing heresy laws in 1984. Also, this whole thing happened because somebody of the same religion was rumored to have posted an image on Facebook. Clearly, religious unity has made Pakistan less vulnerable to unwanted ideas.

Here’s an unwanted idea for you: characters in fictional narratives have to be “relatable,” which pretty much means they’re not too impressive or mean. At the New Yorker, Rebecca Mead has taken issue with the notion of relatability, after Ira Glass tweeted that “Shakespeare is not relatable, unemotional.” Glass has since retracted his remark, but I’m still going to side with Mead. Why does a good story need to feature characters that are kind of like you? Why must every funny or exciting narrative also be about people you like? Mead notes that “relatable” is not far removed from “solipsistic.” She cites a Buzzfeed article praising “29 Incredibly Relatable Quotes From ‘Girls'” that includes Hanna Horvath’s penetrating insight, “I’m an individual and I feel how I feel when I feel it.” If you want to get rich writing stories, insist that what makes a character fascinating is his or her capacity to experience what everyone experiences, like subjectivity. Make them relatable.

That’s why everybody loves New York: it’s got a lot of Subways and bank branches, so people can relate to it. James and Karla Murray photographed city storefronts in 2004 and 2014, basically so you could succumb to despair. The CBGB’s-to-John-Varvatos transition is probably the most objectively sad, but for some reason the one that got me was Second Ave. Deli. Thank god that neighborhood icon, purveyors of the best meat loaf sandwich I have ever eaten, eventually made way for a Chase Bank. Mars Bar, on the other hand, became a TD Bank. Every generation gets the New York City it wanted. Evidently, we wanted the theaters to become restaurants and the dive bars to become ATMs.

I guess I’ve gotten old, and the world I knew has reconfigured itself and become strange before my very eyes, like a transformer that turns itself into postindustrial reification. Fortunately, I have kept the faith of my childhood:

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZMCnh22jJ5U

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