Spiritual Awakening Argumentative Essay

Ch. 9 Preparations It was decided in those early meetings that the best crowd to appeal to at first were the Birdie’s of the world. The ones that would attend purely out of the possibility to have a little fun. Benny used her work to print out flyers they came up with. As this was the very beginning of their operation, they had pretty much no clue what to put on them, so they all read:
Spiritual Awakening
The Truth About God and Religion
Congregation Every Tuesday Evening- 10 pm
Come Join at 283 27th Ave. Not exactly detailed, and it did nothing to dispel later rumors that they were a cult, because I mean, isn’t that exactly what you’d expect a cult flyer to look like? But all the same Buzz passed them out to people at the speakeasy, and
Do deaths in war count? What if it’s in self-defense?” replied the professor. “How about, ‘treat others the way you want to be treated’? Everyone can agree to that, surely?” “Great, so now we have the Golden Rule, and don’t be bad. Genius, we’ll be praised for our wisdom around the globe.” Eila sighed. “Don’t lose hope, we’ve got time to figure it out. Religions didn’t appear overnight, they developed over thousands of years. We can change and adjust over time.” the professor collected his notes and books and replaced them neatly to the shelves of the speakeasy storerooom. Somehow he had shown to be much more tidy outside of his own office. “I’m going to ask Aten about it during the presentation this Tuesday. Who chose Tuesdays anyway?” “I believe it was Mr. Mead. It’s his least busy day, so he can close early and meet up at this location he has set up for us.” Ambrose said while gathering up his coat and cane. “You know how he’s paying for it?” “Not the slightest idea. Now if you’ll excuse me, I promised I would visit Ms. Bennett’s work today and see this marvelous magazine she prints.” “Of course, I know how she loves showing it off.” “Certainly, and I shall see you on Tuesday, as tonight I am sorry to say I have to return to
Buzz shrugged in response. After a second he tilted his head towards the door. “Birdie isn’t back yet.” Eila nodded, understanding, and turned back to her reading. They waited for a long time for Birdie to come home, and eventually she did. I’d love to tell you the details of Birdie’s night, it involved a lot of booze, at least one movie star, a strange underground lounge, and, I kid you not, a goddamn peacock. Seriously. But it doesn’t exactly pertain to the story, and I’ve wasted enough time as it is, so we’re going to stick with Eila and Buzz’s perspective of the evening. Birdie came stumbling through the door, her hair a mess that framed the wide smile on her face. Buzz immediately left from his position behind the bar, and guided her to a seat. “What the hell-.” “Shhhh… I don’t like you.” Buzz stared at her for a second, and then turned around and returned to wiping down the same glass, but this time his face seemed to be stubbornly refusing to show any emotion of any kind. Eila took his place in front of Birdie’s slouched