Joel of the Pax Nortana blog imagines dinner at a bipolar restaurant:
- You would be surrounded by frowning people.
- The food would be hospital food. If you did not eat it, they would not let you go home until you did.
- The food would make you constipated or dizzy or wanting more and more and more.
- You'd be obliged to drink large glasses of water between every course.
- The waiters would take notes on your behavior.
- Voices would tell you that the waiters did not like you and that they wanted to poison you. Other voices would just say things like blab blab blab over and over again.
- Whenever you lifted a fork or knife, the staff would watch you especially closely.
- Half the waiters would tell you that you were a deadbeat. The other half would tell you that if you just accepted God, you'd be saved. Besides, God never puts anything on your shoulders that you can't handle.
