To some people, sushi and God are the same thing. These people are maladjusted, and probably white. But even the whitest, most maladjusted devotee of the Cult of Sushi will have trouble eating at Tako Sushi, where you can find both sushi and God.

Tako Sushi on Telegraph is probably the worst place you can eat sushi in the East Bay, if not planet Earth, but even that sometimes isn’t enough to prevent me from eating there when a craving strikes.

That said, the cheap and rather poor sushi isn’t what kills me. I’m not one of these shi-shi frou-frou sushi Nazis. What is absolutely the worst part about eating at Tako is its creepy use of religious subliminal messaging.

When the Latino kitchen workers have their Cuban jazz or Spanish rap blaring, be thankful. Enjoy the experience. This is what California is after all, a parody of “diversity” which prides itself on the supreme enjoyment of the superficial appreciation of different cultures through the consumption of “ethnic” goods by well-meaning(?) white folk who embrace cosmopolitanism by aligning their chakras and devouring foreign foods in a self-satisfied manner.

So enjoy the samba music, even if it violates your idealized version of what an “authentic” ethnic experience at a sushi restaurant should be.

Oh, you should also enjoy it because when the exploiters of cheap Mexican labor at Tako see it fit to deprive their kitchen staff of what little enjoyment they get out of their daily lives, contemporary Christian music is surreptitiously played in the background instead.

I’m not kidding.

Listen carefully, and you will hear Christian pop standbys like “I Worship You” disguised as ambient music.

Just so you don’t miss the point, the waitresses usually wear white shirts with subtle church logos on them, as if to say: “You’re already listening to Christian music while eating sushi, so you might as well come to our church too.”

Thus, I am calling for a separation of Church and Sushi.

I like my sushi secular, my avo rolls, atheist.