One of something like three letters I wrote in class on the theme of converting an Amish family to at least a slightly more electric life. No intentions to offend and no actual views on religion expressed, but my professor appeared to like the original and I've briefly touched it up here. This time I'll hide my changes. I'm not really sure how interesting this particular letter is, but there's some solace in the fact that when you make your URL an apology you can get away with quite a lot.
I'm going to convince you that light bulbs are okay! Plato saw the sun as the good that we run into when we escape the cave and more contemporaneously that good has become God these days so, you know, let there be light, darling!
Because candles are just dangerous; have you seen the way Uncle Jimmy handles his in the night? I don't wanna pick fights but you are in my house and my insurance will not cover fire damages caused when that man inevitably falls down the stairs. Plus, I, myself, even though I said as an anthropologist that I'd like to learn your culture, I miss light... It's neither here nor there, but I've always been afraid of matches, and Gladys I don't want you to get the idea that I've only been using you, because I've been waking you up to spend time together and flirt in the middle of the night, but one reason has been, often times, so that you might light a flame for me.
I really just want you to try it out--could you God send you to Hell for that? Trying something on like so many sweaters that my sister has to check out to see if in them she's going to look hip this summer. And don't think this is a slight, dear Gladys, I admire your ability to resist slot machines and Facebook, but really, the light bulb? I think we both know God & Thomas Alva Edison are palling around in Heaven right this freaking second, as I write this, and what are you going to do?
So take it or leave it, but I--I'm not as strong as you and the light bulb is a necessity of mine, so we may come to our parting of ways, which is a shame, because you really are quite beautiful and unique and although it's a bad persuasive tactic, I'm willing to admit that this is all my fault anyway.
Perhaps I could point you to Billy who can't pay his electric bill anyway? Or maybe perhaps, you'll stay... Give it a week and let's hold a seance so that if God doesn't strike me dead for making you lighten up then we can say "well at least we asked your permission." Or maybe now you're angry cause I just said--accidentally--that God was dead. Let us pray.