You just continue to live your happy narrow minded little life in Seattle, and let other people live their lives as they see fit.
When you are done condemning everyone who doesn’t measure up to your high standards, you can always enjoy your dotage in a house packed with cats, comforted in the sure a certain knowledge that you are better than everyone else.
When the cats are done gnawing your body, you are welcome to spend eternity reminiscing with Cotton Mather in the great beyond...
Assuming he meets your standards, of course...
Not better than anyone, but I do know that tongue piercing is for tramps.