"I was hungry, and you formed a humanities club to discuss it. I was imprisoned, but you complained about the crime rate. I was naked, and you debated the morality of my appearance. I was sick, and you thanked God for your health. I was homeless, and you preached to me about the shelter of God's love. You seem so holy and so close to God; but I'm still hungry, lonely, cold, and in pain. Does it matter?"
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