Cobra: (n) a highly venomous snake

Trying to maintain my status as a man of faith, I often find myself wading through some murky swamps of religious jargon.

This has tempted me, a time or two, to drain those swamps and start building my own condos. Yet I know deep in my soul that I have felt guidance, been inspired and in some strange sense, been redeemed.

Yet when I consider the cobra, I become baffled.

I don’t like snakes. I’m not ashamed of that. I don’t feel less manly by admitting it. I think they’re creepy. I think they know they’re creepy.

After all, if your only communication is hissing, your means of transportation is slithering and you choose to bite other people, you may have proven yourself to be unworthy for planet consideration.

Just my opinion.

And this becomes truly, astronomically intolerable when it comes to the cobra. No longer will the cobra stay on the ground, but decides to lift itself up into some sort of unholy erection. Then it flares its head in anger, and spits its venom at you.

Yes–there are spitting cobras.

So even if you feel you stood back far enough, you still could be splatted by the nasty varmint.

I do not know what the purpose of the cobra is. I’m sure it could be explained to me. Maybe they eat tons and tons of rats. But if it were my choice, I would rather find a different way to be rid of the rat population than by introducing a creature which insists on being addressed as “King Cobra.”


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