Thursday, July 26, 2012

A Message To America's Creationists From Jesus Of Nazareth

As you know I am the Lord, the Christ, possessed of infinite mercy and understanding. So I'm going to say this in the absolute kindest way it can be said:

You people need to stop being such fucking idiots.

Seriously. That's as nice as I'm going to get. You all should grit your teeth, grease yourselves up, and pull your heads out of your asses. It will be difficult. I think you may need help, and don't ask Me, because I don't wanna. I died for your sins, but right now... Well, I am the Prince of Peace, but all I can think about is returning to earth in glory, just so I can track down every one of you mulleted mouthbreathers and cock-punch you until you cough blood.

The Huffington Post reported on a new Gallup poll that showed 46% of you believe in creationism. I don't mean some kind of evolution guided by God... I mean the straight-up Bronze Age bullshit. Earth is 10,000 years old, and I am up there on a cloud with Dad faking the redshift of stars and making dinosaur bones look older than they are to test your faith.

What kind of jackasses are you? Do you honestly think this helps you spread the Good News? Do people generally want to subscribe to a philosophy they associate with the kind of ignorance it takes to fail at childproof caps?

Forget DNA. Forget the fossil record. Forget everything we know about using radioactive isotopes to date materials, and how we've been breeding livestock and pets for thousands of years using the same natural processes discovered by Charles Darwin. Let's just talk about the Bible, 'kay?

When I said the kingdom of God was like a sower... do you think I was really swapping gardening tips with folks? I talked about that guy hiding a bunch of money in the ground so it wouldn't get lost. You believe he was a real dude? He was my second cousin or something? What about all that crap I said about goats and sheep? You think Dad and I are in heaven spending our downtime running a goddamn farm? And the last chapter in the Book - it's about a beast that rises from the sea and goes a few rounds with me. You chuckleheads are fine with saying it's the pope or the head of the EU, or Barack Obama, or somesuch nonsense. But none of you are stupid and crazy enough to think it's some kind of actual sea monster that'll pop up out of the Hudson and do a Godzilla on New York. Right? Metaphors. Similes. Poetic language. The Bible's filled with them. If you read the Song of Solomon literally - Until the day breathe, and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved, and be thou like a gazelle or a young hart upon the mountains of spices - it's about a whole pile of bestiality.

So you're already fine with complicated symbolic language. You just need to apply that, so people stop thinking you're suffering oxygen deprivation.

This is not about faith. This is some kind of squabble you are having with people you think are the cultural elites. This is about your fear of learning, and that is so pathetic it makes me want to smite the crap out of you and start over with hermit crabs. You've become so suspicious of anyone and anything you label as "intellectual" that you've actually turned ignorance into a virtue. It's not.

It doesn't make you a better, more loving, more righteous person to pretend you're living in the 18th century while you take advantage of the antibiotics, airplanes, computers, and air conditioning that comes from the scientific progress of the 20th and 21st. It just makes you a tool. And you're making me look like a tool with you.

You need to follow the truth wherever it leads. Truth - I'm sure I said something about it. It's in my book. And you definitely need to brush up on your reading.

Note: I've been writing a lot of religious commentary lately, because I am working on an experimental horror story about a man who tries to write a book of children's stories based on the darkest parts of the Bible. It is told through the documents of a criminal file. More about it, and a few pages of the insanity, here.

Monday, July 23, 2012

Water Bugs? Sure. Whatever Gets You Through The Night.

Well, hello there.

It's us. Down here. Under the dishwasher. And in the bathroom cabinet. And a couple of other places you'll find out about later. Us. You know, the water bugs.

That's what we are. Not much to worry about, huh? Water. Bugs. Such a nice, nonthreatening word combination. Kind of pastoral and relaxing. Like when a development company carves out new subdivisions - the ones that are half-empty nowadays, and dotted with foreclosure notices - and every street is a Shady Grove Drive or a Whisper Lane or Cypress Court. None of it identifies anything real - an event or a landmark. But it makes you feel good.

People are funny that way. You have these little tricks you play on yourself to deal with all that mess that's underneath the surface. Your credit card balance. Your age. Your health. What kind of life you're living. What kind of future you're going to give your kids.

We're kind of a symbol of the playhouse world you've constructed for yourself. All of it depending on the steady paychecks and negative results on those routine medical tests. Which you know you can't really depend on, but... If you started thinking like that, where would it end?

You could actually just call us "class anxiety." It'd be more accurate. But "water bugs" is fine.

Either way, we'll be here. Waiting. Like everything else in your ridiculous life.
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