Originally Posted by Jimmy Onestroke
When I was six years old, there were a couple of big, glossy children's books on the shelf in my class. So I read them. They told me that one day, while Maui was fishing, he caught a fish so big that when it decomposed it became the island that I live on today. I read about how he was tired of the day being short and the night being long, so he made a rope of flax and caught the sun with it, brought it down to earth and beat the crap out of it, threatening that he would not let it free unless it promised to make the day longer. I read about how Maui died trying to kill the god of death herself. Then another kid told me I was stupid for taking it seriously, that it was all just a story. Christianity was the real deal. I asked him why he was sure that the Maori were wrong and the Christians were right. He told me with absolute authority that his dad said so. So I decided it was all a load of gobshite and became strictly atheist. I still believed in Santa though.