A pagan friend of mine wrote this; I thought I'd pass it on.
Return of Christ in Purple by Duane Shatterspider
I hate you, not because you're different than me, but because you are not honest enough to say that you hate me. I smell the rotten carcass of Jesus upon your breath, and in its stink I know that you have found not freedom, but slavery. You speak glibly of demons and battles, but it is this battle you have already lost. In trying to change others, you have only revealed that thing you find impossible to change: