According to the lunatic fringe, we are only a few days away from the rapture. I wasn’t around for the first coming of Christ but I hear it was awesome. Especially if you were Roman.
I am guessing I will not be lifted up as one of God’s chosen if the rapture hits on Saturday as my life has been lived as far from mistranslated and misinterpreted biblical passages as possible. High places tend to give me vertigo and I do not care much for flying, anyway.
I have a problem with faith because I tend to apply logic, reasoning and critical thinking to most aspects of my life. Those things that I do not apply these aforementioned principles to I get through with a lot of yelling and scotch. I am happy “God” works for some people. I am even happier that grown adults who think the concept of Santa Claus is ridiculous also think that a supreme being not only cares about the good deeds they do but uses said deeds as a reason to love or not love them.
It’s not that I don’t believe in God. It’s that I just don’t care if God exists or doesn’t exist. I have bigger things to worry about. Like a wife to take care of, kids to raise, bills to pay and clients to design for. It seems like God’s “chosen” people think heaven is some kind of exclusionary country club, anyway. If I wanted to be around a bunch of elitist pricks I would hang out at the Cherry Creek Mall on the weekends.
Jake: The ShamWow guy sues Scientology.
Me: I am debating the purchase of ShamWows.
Jake: Ha! Check this one out. “You are gonna love my nuts.”
Me: He is right, that tuna does look boring. “If I can do it with one finger, you can do it with one hand.”
Jake: The guy is a genius.
Jake: He is like a sideshow magician, throwing around some Three-Card Monte.
Me: You are getting the Slap Chop for your birthday.
DJ: Jesus in French fry format.
Me: The Son of God looks delicious!
DJ: Willy Porter does a song called “Jesus on the Grill” but he is talking about the grill of a truck…
Me: …not a grill with a rack of ribs?
Me: Brings a whole new meaning to transubstantiation. I took a lot of communion as a young indoctrinated Catholic and if Jesus tasted like a brisket and French fries? I might not have strayed so far from the church.
DJ: “I am hungry! When is church?”
DJ: You could tell how good the barbecue was at a church by the size of the congregation.
Me: We could start the Church of the Holy Barbecue.
DJ: Or at the very least a restaurant called A Religious Experience.
Me: Where all the wait staff is dressed like Jesus during the crucifixion and instead of blood they are slathered in…
DJ: …barbecue sauce?
Me: Yes! They slap down a pork sandwich in front of you and say, “The swine of Christ.”
Me: Oh man. I just had a really fucked up thought. Have a guy dressed up as Abraham, give him a sacrificial knife and have him bring a newborn baby out to a table. Just when he gets ready to slaughter the baby have the Mexican kitchen manager yell from the back of the restaurant (like the voice of God), “No Mas!” Then Abraham picks up the baby all nurturing and loving and says to the patrons, “Only kidding! Have some more brisket!”
DJ: Wow. You are right. That was fucked up.
Moses tripping balls? That explains the whole wandering in the desert, Egyptian army is chasing us, parting the Red Sea, Burning Bush, Mount Sinai/Ten Commandments and Golden Calf business. That right there describes a fairly strong yet garden variety acid trip. Granted, the Exodus story is not as twisted and psychedelic as Fantasia what with the dancing elephants and hippos, but it definitely ranks up there.
Isaac Hayes apparently got jerked around by Scientology regarding the South Park incident. Scientology is difficult for me to comprehend on many levels because I have a firm grasp on reality and generally do not like my spiritual beliefs to read like a bad Fantastic Four comic*. From the Wiki entry on Scientology:
The story of Xenu, the galactic tyrant who first kidnapped certain individuals who were deemed “excess population” and loaded these individuals into space planes for transport to the site of extermination, the planet of Teegeeack (Earth). These space planes were said to have been copies of Douglas DC-8s, except with rocket engines. He then stacked hundreds of billions of these frozen victims around Earth’s volcanoes 75 million years ago before blowing them up with hydrogen bombs and brainwashing them with a “three-D, super colossal motion picture” for 36 days, telling them lies of what they are and what the universe should be like and telling them that they are 3 different things: ‘Jesus, God, and The Devil.’ The traumatized thetans subsequently clustered around human bodies because they watched the motion picture together, making them think they are all the same thing, in effect acting as invisible spiritual parasites known as “body thetans” that can only be removed using advanced Scientology techniques. Xenu is allegedly imprisoned in a mountain by a force field powered by an eternal battery. He is said to be still alive today.
I do not think I ever dated a girl crazier than that blurb and that is saying a lot.
* In college I was given the assignment to compare God with a fictional character that I believed most closely represented my view of a higher power. Most students compared the almighty to Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny whereas I chose the Fantastic Four character Galactus. I concluded the paper by stating Galactus was the best example of a deity because he ate planets to sustain his existence having no regard for the existence of the planet’s inhabitants and claimed he was above insignificant creatures morals and religions. If memory serves me correctly, I recall getting a B.
After my discussion with Jake and much deliberation, I decided this would be the mixed tape I would create for the Son of God:
- “Jesus Built My Hotrod” by Ministry
- “So Fresh, So Clean” by Outkast
- “Down On My Knees” by The Crucifucks
- “The Man Comes Around” by Johnny Cash
- “Kill The Poor” by Dead Kennedys
- “Holy Diver” by Dio
- “When I Get To Heaven” by Ice Cube
- “Killing In The Name Of” by Rage Against the Machine
- “Sister Christian” by Night Ranger
- “Sympathy For The Devil” by Rolling Stones
- “If You Love Someone Set Them On Fire” by Dead Milkmen
- “Epiphany” by Bad Religion
- “Something To Believe In” by Poison
I know Jesus was a subversive Hippy and would probably enjoy some Grateful Dead, Phish, Widespread Panic and Cat Stevens, but that’s not the point. The purpose of the mixed tape is not just to throw on a bunch of music that the recipient likes and is familiar with. Making a mixed tape for someone is the ultimate truth; it strips down the walls society builds around human relationships and then rebuilds them through the majesty of song. That, and if you give a mixed tape to girl hopefully it will get you laid.
Biblical scholars have found ancient texts that claim the number of the beast is 616 instead of 666. Wikipedia has already made mention of this finding. They are all over new information like a priest on an altar boy.
A new pope, Benedict XVI, has been chosen. In the Vatican, the former cardinal has been the driving force behind crackdowns on liberation theology, religious pluralism and challenges to traditional moral teachings on homosexuality and womens’ ordination. In short, the Church of Rome has just elected a right wing, stubborn old man who will probably yell at kids playing soccer in St. Peter’s Square and feed pigeons breadcrumbs laced with rat poison in order to “shut them up.” Pope Benedict XVI is exactly what the Catholic Church needs right now; a hard-line, unwavering traditionalist who will protect pedophile priests, maintain the misogynistic status quo in Catholicism and continue to condemn homosexuality and birth control. Benedict XVI also bears the distinct honor of being the only pontiff in history who was once a Hitler Youth.
Historic Papal Fun: Curious as to why popes chose new names for themselves during their Pontificate, I ran “pope” through Wikipedia. Not only did I learn about the naming process*, I boned up on sexually active popes, Antipopes, African popes and a period of Papal history known as Pornocracy, or Rule of the Harlots. Good times.
* Starting in 535 AD, the Pope has customarily chosen a new name for himself during his Pontificate. The names are not based on any system other than general honorifics and have been based on immediate predecessors, mentors and political similarity.
The pontiff is no more. Rumor has it the next pope may be Latin American. Me? I am pulling for a Jew. Rest in peace, JP the Deuce. We hardly knew ye.