Saturday, September 18, 2010

This Woman is Whack!

At this point, almost a week since Christine O'Donnell has won the Republican bid to ultimately lose run for the Delaware Senate seat, talking about her kooky statements would seem almost nostalgic.

Except, I haven't yet sprayed my brand of snark on the subject just yet, so yeah, it's going to happen. 

At first I was a bit hesitant.

Back in the 90's EVERYONE was doing crazy shit. Saggy jeans and tight spandex ran neck and neck for the top way to humiliate yourself in public; Paula Abdul was completely and un-ironically relevant; and, most importantly, there was barely even an internet (you can stop raising your hand AOL, we see you and we're ignoring you). Truth, the following things happened to me all in the 90's:
1. I lost my virginity while listening to an extended version of "Moments in Love" by the Art of Noise
2. I had a flatop haircut
3. I cheered when OJ was found "not guilty"

You feel all your respect for me just zipped up its coat and beat a line for the door? I wouldn't want my 1990's behavior/statements/music choices to define me now that I'm all respectable. And neither should Christine O'Donnell. 

Granted, I'm not jockeying for a seat to run an ENTIRE state, but still, fair is fair.

So when I saw the clip of a very 1990's Christine O'Donnell proudly saying that masturbation was un-christian like because it was selfish, I actually thought it was somewhat unfair to dig up some "dirt" as a means of discrediting her. Clearly she was an idealistic teenager who was still finding her way . . . . wait, she was 27! As in the age I was when I had been married for a couple of years and had a child and a mortgage? 

Hmm. 

Ok, look. I understand that being a Christian, or of any faith really, basically requires you to have some absolutes -- otherwise the whole discussion on right and wrong, heaven and hell falls flat. But I assume, that most normal folks allow for some cognitive dissonance as they move through life. "YES,  I believe Jesus is my only ticket to heaven but I'm pretty sure Abdul will get his 72 virgins, too." Like me, I LOVE Star Wars but I don't have the passion, will or time to become the President of a Star Wars fan club. I just don't have it in me.

But Christine did. At the age of 27 she started S.A.L.T. a Christian group that hates vaseline and genitalia or something. Anyway, she was interviewed on an MTV show saying that masturbation required lust which is evil and therefore it too is evil. Apparently, masturbation is ruining marriages. As Christine notes, "if [a man] can please himself, what I'm in the picture for?" Don't believe me? Watch the clip.
  
 
SEE?!?! She was 27 when she said that. Now that she wants to be taken more seriously, she's since admitted to masturbating (JUST ONCE!) in 1999 and claims her faith has matured since the 1990s.

So, I have two quick points.

1. I haven't been 27 for a few years now, but my worldview hasn't changed that fucking drastically. I'm pretty much the same dude.
2. Anybody, AT THE AGE OF 27, who thinks a man will find his woman less desirable because he can jerk off is fucking insane. Yes, there are people addicted to porn who will opt to masturbate over real sex but
A. I'm not talking about them
B. When she made these statements there was no pornhub.com or keezmovies.com for men to get addicted to. Oh, what is pornhub.com? Uh, I dunno.

If jerking off was a legitimate substitute for sex, I, and the rest of the male population, would have never lost our virginity.

No, the real problem is that Christine is an idiot who believes pretty much anything she's told. I can only assume the men she had dealt with at this point were also sexually restricted goofballs convinced that sexual desire would turn them into demons.

I don't live in Delaware but I fear for those that do. Christine O'Donnell lacks the adult ability to discern gray. And while a black and white morality may work when your 18 it does not as an adult and DEFINITELY not as a leader in the government. We need people who can set aside their idiosyncratic views of the world and see life through other's eyes, imagine and have compassion for the varied stations of life. I believe that this woman simply cannot do that. She is too easily swayed by religious hoo-ha.

Just last night, Bill Maher ran the following clip that shows Christine on his Politically Incorrect from 1999 where she said she "dabbled in witchcraft." Apparently a date took her to a movie and then a satanic altar. This is a scant three years after being on MTV as the president of S.A.L.T. So either she was doing a Christian sting or she's a fucking idiot. Sadly, I think it's the latter and this chick may SOON BE RUNNING DELAWARE and then the only jerk-off in the state will be her.

Monday, September 6, 2010

Oh HELL Yes!

Happy Labor Day!

To celebrate I will not be doing much work, instead I will leave the heavy lifting to the good folks at Baptazia, the incredible people who mix video of people catching the holy ghost with thumping UK bass music. You may recall I posted a clip a while back but there's something new (or at least new to me) and it is fucking fantastic.

If you don't have time to watch it all -- which you should considering you didn't work today -- please fast forward to 1:46 into the clip where a rather portly gentleman zombie-stalks over to a woman and the two have a collective holy conniption fit. Maybe the funniest thing I've seen all year. My wife, doesn't agree, but then again, she doesn't find much merit in "Anchorman" -- a fact that drives a wedge in our hollow, hollow marriage. Just kidding honey! (Actually, she quoted "you have a breathtaking heiny" not an hour ago -- so yes, I still love her).

Enough prelude, enjoy:

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Prove Your Faith in Me

If you love me, or just like me a little bit, you will cast your vote for this proposed Green Day Care that is part of the Pepsi Refresh project! It's a great idea that brings quality food to young kids, teaches them how to recyle, farm and even . . . fly. It also requires DAILY votes between now and Sept. 30 to win.

Here's how to do it:

1. Use your Facebook account

2. Text "102627" to "Pepsi" (73774)

3. Click the big BIG VOTE BUTTON on the top left of the blog

Friday, August 27, 2010

Fuck Glenn Beck



I'm sitting at work, catching up on my Daily Show/Colbert Report fix during my lunch break, as I do so often and I suddenly found myself literally choking on a Death Star-sized piece of irony stuck in my throat.

There are two big stories this week that happily dovetail into the themes of my blog (BONUS!):
1. The so-called Ground Zero Mosque
2. Glenn Beck's "Restoring Honor" Rally taking place tomorrow

Notice any similarities?

Let me break it down for you (ooh if I only had a blackboard this would be PERFECT!)

As you know, the Ground Zero Mosque is really an Islamic Community Center that will be built two blocks from  ground zero of 9/11.

As you also may know, Glenn Beck's "Restoring Honor" Rally will not only take place on the same day as the anniversary of MLK's historic 1963 March on Washington, it will also take place AT THE SAME PLACE. Right there on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, Glenn Beck will be spewing his highly-rated brand of crazy. But before you rise in your seat and call for Beck's head (no worry, it's empty), take comfort in the fact that  Beck recognizes the percieved insensitivity of his rally and is therefore going to move it . . . two steps down.

That needle-like sensation behind your eye is not an aneurysm, it's all of the Right Wing's hypocrisy caving in on itself like a Black hole.

That's right, the same fuck-tards SCREAMING that two blocks is "too close" to the hallowed ground of 9/11 for the planned Islamic center are the same asshats giving Beck a pass after he agreed to step down TWO FUCKING STAIRS down from where Martin Luther King delivered perhaps the most striking speech in U.S. history (it's right up there with Morpheus' speech in Matrix Reloaded).

And here's the thing, despite some stirring from Rev. Al Sharpton, who no one listens to anymore, Beck's blasphemy is hardly the firestorm that the Mosque is. Why? Both deal with issues of faith, proximity and stairs (I presume the mosque will have steps).

Because as Black folks we know bigotry when we see it. Shit! We've had to deal with Klan (actual terrorists mind you) marching through our neighborhoods for decades, we can't get upset because some bigoted asshat wants to hold a speech where MLK stood. Is it idiotic? Yes. Is it insensitive? Ho-boy you bet? Is it illegal? Unfortunately no.

As King and that other guy, oh what's his name, oh yeah, JESUS once said "Love thy neighbor." What happened to America's so-called Christian Heart that would open itself up not only to those we don't like but those that don't like us? When 9/11 happened, our most openly Christian president-to-date El Busho didn't respond with Christian love, he fired back with American gunfire. To be fair, he was acting Christian-like -- just Old School, like Old Testament God -- he of the smoting and smallpox.

No, this Christian facade many of the Islamic Center protesters flock behind (including Glenn Beck -- a mormon by the way which makes his march 1000 times more ironic) has become a symbol not of love but of rabid xenophobic nationalism -- "Pray like me or so help me God I'll fucking ram this cross down your throat!"

And perhaps Black folks have taken too many "grin and bear it" courses at Racism Univeristy, but Glenn Beck's rally and the NY Islamic Center are not real issues. Poverty, sexism, racism, hunger, those doomed Chilean miners -- THOSE are issues worth going to the mat for. I guess, over the years we've learned to choose our battles. Sadly, those protesting the NY Islamic center and lining up at Beck's rally haven't learned theirs.

PS: Seriously, fuck Glenn Beck.

Sunday, August 22, 2010

The Audacity of Stupidity



First thing you should know is that we didn't go back to Church today. And I'll have you know I am NOT responsible. Blame it on the first day of school being tomorrow and the fact that my girls have a LOT of hair -- my youngest is screaming about the hot comb as I type "Be easy on me please!" she screams with tear-filled eyes.

Anyway, on to this week's post.

According to a Time Magazine poll, 24% of Americans believe that President Obama is really a Muslim with 47% believing he's a Christian. This, of course was fueled by his tacit support the so-called "Ground Zero Mosque." 

I say they're both wrong. 

Why? Because I say Obama is an athiest. 

Granted, I've never met the man but I think I understand him. 

According to his biography "Audacity of Hope," (a book my mother-in-law gave me years ago and I subsequently never read. I like to think my closet full of Obama t-shirts has made up for this lack.), Obama was raised in a household where religion was studied rather than followed. Apparently, much like my parents, Obama's mama didn't force any religion on her son but sort laid out a smorgasbord of beliefs for him to pick from.

Here's a representative quote from the book (at least I hope it is, I'm trusting you Google):

"I was not raised in a religious household. For my mother, organized religion too often dressed up closed-mindedness in the garb of piety, cruelty and oppression in the cloak of righteousness. However, in her mind, a working knowledge of the world's great religions was a necessary part of any well-rounded education. In our household the Bible, the Koran, and the Bhagavad Gita sat on the shelf alongside books of Greek and Norse and African mythology." 

Can you see why I voted for the man?

For him Thor is about as real as Jesus or Buddah. And while you could start a war over the validity of biblical claims, no one will lift a finger to dispute the historical accuracy of Thor (I would, however, like to raise a finger and say that the Thor movie looks better than I expected). 

Now, as we all know, at some point Obama went all "Black mainstream" when he converted to Christianity and joined a big-time church. End of story, right? 

WRONG!

May I submit my conspiracy theory about Obama's true faith? Well yes I may because it's my f'n blog! You just sit back and read. 

I believe that Obama realized early on that he wanted to run for high office and set about to strategically make his life electable. How did he do that? The following steps are taken directly from President Obama's notebook. 

STEP ONE: Marry a Black woman

I'm not saying Barack isn't genuinely in love with Michelle (I'm on record saying that she is not the best-looking woman in the world, but she is basically attractive and she does have a donk), but I DO think he CHOSE to date a Black woman for the real fact that no Black man (bi-racial or otherwise) could get elected with a White woman on his arm. I can tell you no Black woman I know would vote for him and I'm pretty sure it would turn off lots of White folks, too. Call it the Harold Ford effect. 

STEP TWO: Become a Christian
Whenever I speak to someone about my lack of Christianity, there's usually this sudden call to arms "you should read this" or "watch Passion of the Christ" or worse, "you should come to my church." The underlying idea is that somewhere out there is the perfect convincing argument for Jesus. And what I like to reply with the following: "Me suddenly believing in Christian mythology is about as likely as you believing in the truth of Santa Claus." Granted both may have some historical roots, but when you add in water/wine conversions and reindeer with electric noses it gets a bit fuzzy. 

All that said, I just don't believe any one who claims to start believing in the mythology of religion as an adult. Especially not someone I want running the country. If he was born with it, hey, fine. You can't pick your parents and if they foisted some religion on you that you can't set aside, I'm fine with that. Not to mention, as an American I don't really have a fucking choice since we only elect Christians. But any one convinced of the stories of the bible after they've started paying mortgages is just unfathomable to me. 

So honestly, I'm not surprised that President Obama's religious belief is under attack. It's hard to play ball if you don't know the rules. Actually, that's not right. It's hard to play ball if you don't really feel like playing. I'm sure he KNOWS the rules of the game but just doesn't really have his heart in it. And I guess his lack of faith is showing but you know what FUCK IT, he's already President! Suck that Tea baggers! Hey, it's not like you can impeach him for NOT being a chri. . . 

Oooh, I should stop typing right now in case anyone gets any ideas.  

PS: There is a Step 3 -- Shave Off Facial Hair
I submit that no Black man could be elected President rocking ANY trace of facial hair. It's Lando Calrissian Clause. Why else would he only be a sidekick when it was HE that blew up the Death Star with HIS Millenium Falcon! Don't question it.

Monday, August 16, 2010

People Dig Me

Just when you thought you were the only one digging Third Kingdom, along comes a nice fellow who I will call "TJ" who saw fit that my blog was exactly the right platform to promote his school Westwood College.

So, here I am posting the link to Westwood College -- http://www.westwood.edu/ 

Based on my expertise of Universities (not really) and my thorough check of the site (I looked at the homepage), I thoroughly endorse Westwood College. So please visit the site, and what the hell, enroll. Already in college? Drop the fuck out already and matriculate your ass to Westwood. 

Seriously, do it now or I'll call your parents. 

You don't want that.

We're Off to Church? II: The Reckoning



So yeah, we went to church yesterday. 

I had planned to write about it yesterday, but it's taken me a day to process it. 

Especially considering that I forced my wife to go. Yeah, go back and read that sentence again and then look outside to make sure it's not raining unicorns. 

Initially, my wife was supposed to go to the market with a friend, but that fell through and I was like "so do you still want to go to that church?" Suddenly, we were in a marathon to get everyone (three women and me) dressed and out the door on time, which -- and I know this sounds sexist -- is kinda like the hardest thing in the world. Seriously, Houdini couldn't do it.

With literally 20 minutes before service starts and over 20 miles to travel, my wife, fully dressed, huffs down on the bed and says "maybe we just won't go." That's when my dumb ass says "we can make it." I have my reasons. 

So, 21 minutes later (after driving through the rain no less), we arrived at church.

OK, "church" may be a strong word for where we went . . . let me explain.

First, we were greeted at the door by an older lesbian who told us where to place our umbrellas. That's not to say lesbians don't attend other churches, I'm sure they do, but not, you know, this obviously. This woman, like everyone else there, was dressed like they were heading out to the mall. Seriously, if you picked up a Whole Foods and shook it, these were the folks who would come falling out the doors -- White, 50 years old (or older) lots of shorts and sandals, ponytails and, I suspect, patchouille-scented natural deoderant.   

The other reason why I wouldn't really call this place "church" is because there was no religious iconography -- anywhere. Not one cross, Jewish star or that moon thingy for Muslims. There were no bibles, no hymnals. But the thing I loved the most was -- there was no screaming. There's lots I don't like about the Black church experience, but most pale in comparison to my absolute loathing of the preaching style. I mean seriously dude, you have a microphone, I can HEAR you. And what's more, I understand English, so there's no need to repeat EVERY THING YOU SAY three and four times. Besides, all that screaming is disturbing my nap.

No, the "pastor" at this church was a 47-year-old Black woman with a un-hip afro that spoke like a college professor. There was no talk of "Gaawd" or veiled threats to non-believers, just a woman sharing a story about dealing with her son's growing independence. Naturally, this brought my wife, struggling with our youngest's pending kindergarten attendance, to near tears. 

She was also moved to act outside of her comfort zone. You know that part of every church service where they ask new members to stand an introduce themselves? Well, my wife, a woman who avoids family gatherings due to social pressure, stood her bold ass up and introduced our family to a room of strangers. To say I was shocked is an understatement. 

But that's part of the reason I pushed to go. She's had such a negative past with church and her baptist upbringing that I wanted her to have a good, non-pressure filled experience. And, I guess it worked. I mean she wants to go back. 

Me? Eh, I realize sometimes you have to careful what you wish for. Yes, I hate all the spiritual bigotry involved at church, but MAN is it entertaining! Universalist Unitarians are very nice and very welcoming to a heathen family like us, but that doesn't make them fun to be around. God, I'm like a high school girl who disses the nice guy for the dick who never calls back. 

Anyway, the real fireworks are soon to come. My wife told my mother-in-law that she found a church she likes, to which she replied by literally shouting "HALLELUJAH!" Just can't wait to hear what she shouts when she tells her that "church" was full of heathen hippies who don't so much as utter Jesus' name.

Till then . . . 


Sunday, August 8, 2010

We're Off to Church?






There's soo much to talk about this week -- Gay marriage is kinda legal in California; the world's most popular heathen, Christopher Hitchens, is rebuking those praying for his health now that he has cancer -- but I don't want to talk about that stuff now. I want to discuss the fact that I was almost in church today.


By "almost," I mean my wife and I said that as soon as my eldest daughter stopped taking swimming lessons on Sundays, that we would try the local Unitarian Universalist Church -- you know, for shits and giggles. Their services start at 11am, exactly the same time our daughter's lessons are, or should I say, were. Last week marked her final swim lesson (she's at a Level 7 thank you very much) and today was pretty much wide open. 

Yeah. . . we didn't make it. Not because we weren't thinking about it, it's just that we were asleep. No, we weren't sleeping until 11am, but we didn't get vertical till 9:30 and we have children who demand to be fed and tended to -- so selfish.

Truth is, I just don't think we're church going people. Yes, that seems pretty obvious because, well, you're reading this blog, right? First off, we don't have the right clothes. There's a certain look to Black middle class church-goers -- its somewhere between business casual and funeral. Seriously, they must have a fucking store, because I've never seen those clothes outside a church. We also don't have church faces, by which I mean, if someone lobs a load of bullshit at us, we tend to duck as opposed to fixing that serene smile on our faces and nod graciously.

But more than the niggling little fact that neither my wife or I consider ourselves Christians, I don't think we have the right temperament to be church-goers. We're more like "movie-goers" or "museum-goers" or "laying in the bed-goers."

At it's core, church is not conducive to quiet giggling, something my wife and I excel at. Pretty much every get-together is an opportunity for her and I to grab a corner and tee-hee about the proceedings -- weddings, baby showers, funerals (kidding -- sorta) -- yeah, good times.

But nothing about my church-going experience points to the fact that this would be deemed acceptable behavior. In fact, I'm pretty sure it's frowned upon. That is unless we whispered in tongues. That might be alright, certainly funnier.

However, I think we could get past that. We recently saw "Inception" and we barely spoke a word and I would love to go back and do that again.

No, I think the real issue is that church, while the epicenter of faith, is rarely the epicenter for questions. I'm not saying that right. You can ask plenty of questions in church, but the kind of questions that already fit into the accepted narrative. You don't go to church to question the very need to go to church, at least I don't think you do.

It's kind of like comic book conventions (something I have some experience with). While you can ask tons of questions about the outcome of a fight between Spider-Man and the Hulk, no one goes to ask "what the hell is up with all you nerds?" It just isn't kosher and what's more, I doubt the nerds would have a good answer, at least not one that would satisfy. What's up with all those nerds is that comic books transmit a specific geek frequency (a geek-uency if you will) that these costumed virgins are uniquely designed to pick up. So, you can ask till your blue in the face but I don't think that's going to get you the answers you want.

And while UU church is supposed to be all kumbya with all faiths and even non-faiths, I'm still not sure I've tuned in to the need to attend, no matter the script.

Oh well, if we go, you'll be the first to know.

Sunday, August 1, 2010

WARNING: Everything is Evil

I do not make it a habit of hanging around racial conspiracists so I am woefully ignorant of the lingo. That being said, the term "International Jewry" is by far one the funniest things I've ever had the pleasure of reading.

What is "International Jewry?" I suppose it has something to do with a world-wide cabal of Jewish people who are trying to . . . do . . . something . . . evil? Clearly Oliver Stone thinks this is true or did after he apologized.

But maybe he was on to something. Clearly, Jewish people are looking to brainwash the world's children with images in TV and film. Not convinced? Think of all the Jewish superheroes we have. . . oh wait, I mean, think of all the clearly Jewish news anchors . . . OK fuck it, they have Jon Stewart -- need I say more.

Clearly I do need to say more -- actually, I let this bat shit crazy video say it for me:




Ah, it's all starting to make sense. "International Jewry" (snicker) is clearly responsible for the Teletubbies -- a show the courageous Jerry Falwell proved was promoting the gay lifestyle to kids. And now, with Yo Gabba Gabba, they're stepping it up a notch to turn them into Jews. Clearly, the master plan is to slowly convert our children into . . .  Harvey Fierstein. BRILLIANT and eeeeevilllll!

Seriously though, after watching this I came away confused. It seems the goal of these scheming Jewish overlords is to convince everyone that there is only one god. Present company excluded, hasn't that boat pretty much sailed? Granted, I don't see how one god is any more plausable than several, but its been clear for a long time that the world's believers have become very monogamous. At this point, multiple gods is the Pepsi Clear of theologies.

But I tell you what must be great about being religiously deluded -- its that you believe EVERYTHING could be true. Witches, warlocks, demons, I mean Christians not only allow for these things to exist along side Starbucks and chinese food, but they are SCARED of them! But when your faith is predicated on zippo evidence, then you hardly need a smoking broomstick to convince of the reality of witches. Instead, you lean on the popularity of a kids book as evidence that the devil is indeed taking over the world. I mean, decoding hidden messages, solving word puzzles and uncovering conspiracies sounds like a blast. It's also a bunch of horseshit. I'm not saying that there are no conspiracies but when it comes to religious conspiracies, much like religious reasoning, I find it circular and lacking logic.

Case in point: in high school, I had a Catholic friend who asked me what I thought of the pope. I said "not much." She responded by saying that the Pope is one of the most powerful people in the world. Now, I'm not an idiot. Any guy who's convinced hundreds of millions of people that he's God's secretary clearly holds sway . . .  but not over me. His reign requires I believe in the bible, and therefore he's just a dude who looks like he raided Lady Gaga's wardrobe. He's also, in this case, a former Nazi but hey, as long as he prays to the right god, he's cool, right?

This is something the religious conspriacy theorists simply don't get. The threat is only real to YOU. And forgive me if I'm not shitting my pants. Its not because you haven't laid out a convincing arguement (you haven't) but its because you're assuming we're on the same page -- that we're both Christians.

Monday, July 26, 2010

Oh for FUCK's Sake!



Bristol Palin, the teen-mom daughter of Alaska's greatest governor Sarah Palin, is re-engaged to her ex-fiance/Playgirl model Levi "Duh" Johnston.

This is not what I'm blogging about.

THIS is what I'm blogging about -- according to Reuters, the two are "living separately and practicing abstinence and would likely get married within the next month."

Really? REALLY?

Who is this for? I mean, yes, I get that Bristol revealed her re-engagement to US Weekly BEFORE her mother, so I suppose she believes herself to be a role model of some sort. And hey, maybe she is, I don't know a lot of teen mothers so she could be the fucking Michelle Obama of 18 year old girls with kids, but last time I checked no one was looking to Bristol Palin as a morality compass.

But EVEN if they were, what's the lesson she's teaching? Granted, I know the Palins are a God-fearing people and probably frown on pre-marital sex but abstinence AFTER child birth is like drinking a diet milkshake after eating a KFC Double Down. The irony is so thick you couldn't suck it up with a straw.

All of this points to Christianity's fetishistic obsession with female virginity. Christians are so uptight about broken hymens that Jesus mom couldn't even get laid. Talk about not being able to meet his mother's standards, could you imagine if Jesus HAD tried to wet his willie? He'd be like "that's going to grow back, right?" Even my wife, a woman who willingly married a heathen and who tossed her pure flower to the wind at the age of . . .  let's just say she wasn't driving yet -- said she felt a certain existential relief the first time we had sex as a married couple because, as she put it, it felt "legal." Now that she was bound in "holy matrimony," sex was OK. This a problem on two levels.

1. We had LOTS of sex before we got married soooo . . . . was all that "illegal?"
2. There was very little about our matrimony that was "Holy." We literally got married in a municipal office in Virginia. It was about as holy as a chalupa.

We place such a high price on female virginity that even those who have lost it, not just through sex but through effin CHILDBIRTH are still trying to reclaim it in the name of being a "good girl." I had a conversation with a female co-worker who claimed she was experiencing her "second virginity" because she hadn't had sex in several months. She was desperate to reclaim her prepubescent status as "untouched" either to appear "good as new" to potential buyers or in the hopes that Jesus would get short-term amnesia and forget about the men she'd already slept with.

It's really re-goddamn-diculous and honestly, I blame the Christians which shouldn't be a shock to anyone reading this. And look, I'm man enough to say I don't know which religion technically started this premium on female chastity, but the Christians have really stepped up to own it. And with ownership comes the failures, which in this case, usually comes from their biggest supporters.

Sunday, July 18, 2010

Kids Say the Darndest Things!




(I couldn't find a great image for this post, so I chose this one which KINDA fits, but hey, you don't come here for the pictures. You come for the text baby! Read on.)


Fridays come with ritual. 


On my way home from work, I call and order a large Pepperoni pizza (I've even divined the perfect point on my route home to call in my order so that's its ready when I get there.) My children meet me in the garage with an odd mixture of happiness and disappointment. They're happy that I've brought pizza, but upset that it's not Papa Johns -- a brand my wife hates. My youngest, then claims that (despite years of evidence to the contrary) she doesn't eat pepperoni. I reassure her that she does and we go back and forth like that until she's in tears and begrudgingly eats the pizza. Seriously, this is every week.


We then settle down in our bedroom, my wife and I on our bed, the kids on the floor and eat gooey, pepperoni pizza as we watch a "family show" -- usually the "Avatar" TV show on Netflix. 


Last Friday was no different, except that my youngest said something that would make any Christian weep.


Somehow, my wife and I were discussing the bible -- honestly not sure why.


And my youngest, who has a talent for keying in on conversations she should not be a part of, pipes up.

"Hey! I know the bible!" 



It was as if she had just realized we had friends in common. Her face was beaming with five-year old pride. 


That's not the bad part. 


"Oh yeah, honey," I said, feeling a blog entry brewing in her next response. "What is the bible?"

Suddenly, she became a bit less enthused. Perhaps she hadn't anticipated being put on the spot. Maybe she didn't expect this parent-administered theological pop quiz as her eyes were now cast to the floor and her voice had gone all small.



"Um, isn't that the book with all the rules? The one that tells you all the stuff you can't do?"


Uh, yeah. Pretty much on the spot description. 


OK, not really, but sadly my daughter's interpretation of the bible is American Christanity's biggest problem -- perception. 


Kind of like Republicans, Christians are known as the party of "No." Actually, they're more like "NO!" Sex? "No!", Muslims? "Nope!", Gays? "Noooooooooo!," Harry Potter? "No thanks." Nerds?"HELL no!"  Point is, powerful mantras like "love your neighbor as yourself" have been replaced by "It's Adam and Eve, Not Adam and Steve." While much funnier and rhythmic, it doesn't have that universal appeal you expect from a 2,000-year old religion. Sadly, they have chosen to define their faith by highlighting what they won't stand for instead of what they do. Thus, Christians are defined by the rules they break. So every time a senator gets caught in a gay scandal -- which I like to call "Tuesdays" -- the general public points to the behavior and calls Christianity a fraud filled with hypocritical blow hards who want every one to follow rules they themselves are not willing to follow. 


I mean, if my five year old daughter, who can't even recall what she eats from from week to week, is getting this message, I highly suggest Christians consider a new marketing plan. I highly suggest R. Kelly's. That guy pissed on a school girl on tape and he's still got fans -- female ones. Now that's a fucking miracle. 



Sunday, July 11, 2010

Is Kanye a Devil Worshipper?

You know how I feel about the devil by now. It's well documented in this blog, but that sneaky fucker keeps creeping back into my life and, apparently, into hip hop.

Below is a video put out by Tetragramation Films (read: crazy people) and it is apparently part of a 13-part SERIES of delusional exposes on the growing amount of satanists and devil worshippers who roc the mic.

This latest entry turned its focus on little-known rapper Kanye West and his performance at the 2010 BET Awards. This is remarkable as Kanye is one of the most vocal rapping christians I'm aware of ("Jesus Walks" is a classic as is the religious-tinged "Spaceship" -- my personal fave). NOTE: I did not call Kanye a "Christian Rapper." One, I'm sure Christian rappers would be offended since Kanye has such a potty mouth. But mostly because christian rappers categorically suck as does the music they produce. And before you ask, NO I have not listened to all Christian hip-hop and NO I will not "check out" this one group that's "really good and not as bad as the others." To quote the Karate Kid, "There is no Christian Rap in this dojo!"

Anywho, take a look at the video and enjoy, I'll be back with a few words after the insanity.





That's grade A crazy, right? I mean, it's heartfelt, technically proficient and sincere nuttery. That title card alone with its "encore edition" lets you know these people are certifiable.

Honestly, I could spend all day talking about this thing, but since you seem to think you have more important things to do, I'll just address a few of the Kanye warning signs.

1. Like any performer who is posing on top of a mountain, Kanye is back lit with his arms out to the side in what the film refers to as the Christ-pose. Apparently, Kanye is "making himself God." Man, if it were only that easy. Actually, I wouldn't argue with this "fact." Kanye's public persona is given to fits of ego and I have no doubt that Kanye may indeed see himself as a Christ figure but not literally. But there's one thing I do want to mention, Jesus didn't exactly INVENT that pose, you know. It's not like he walked around that way (well, except for that one time). He was sort of forced into that position -- as were untold thousands who were also crucified -- if you believe the story. All one has to do is watch someone sink three-pointer and you'll see that in moments of triumph everyone does the "ta-da bitches!" pose with the arms out as if to say -- "it's all right here baby."

2. They next take issue with his choice of red for his wardrobe, which clearly represents the devil. The film even refers to a passage from Isaiah to legitimize the claim. Well, I went looking and I didn't see anything about the devil being or wearing red. Still, modern American culture definitely sees red as the devil, but I've watched enough Discovery channel (which has a very atheistic streak lately) to know that the popular representation of the devil as red is a fairly recent phenomenon. So either the Devil's marketing team is doing a great job or this film's a little off the mark.

3. Actually, I'll get away from Kanye for a minute to focus on the other stars mentioned in the video. One is Alicia Keys whose reference to the phoenix gets in her in hot water because the phoenix is connected to some Egyptian God who used to roll with Satan or some shit. She also plugs a hotline for Gulf victims which contains four 9, which when turned upside are 6's. And you thought 666 was bad, wait till you see 666 . . .6. (BTW, listening to an excellent podcast called Radio Lab where they dug through garbage from ancient Egypt and found lost bible manuscripts that refer to the mark of the beast as 616 -- so take that dummies.)

Ok, so this is what I want to say to Tetragramation Films and all the loonies who follow them. You won! Christianity has become such a part of our daily lives, media, storytelling that it's very cornerstones of faith have become nationwide, ubiquitous cliches. Hell, I say "swear to God" or "God forbid" all the time and don't mean it.

You don't have to believe in the Bible to "get" the "Matrix" movies which are FILLED with Christian allegories. Nor do you have to believe in the devil to know that wearing a red suit and standing on top of a fake mountain will cause a stir. Like Lady Gaga (another accussed of Satanism), Kanye's is BRILLIANT at pushing buttons and I'm sure is very clear that his lyrics, outfit and performance would be cause for this type of religious knee-jerk reaction. At the end of the day, the Bible has a lot of great stories in it and Christians need to accept that they resonate with EVERYONE, believers and non-believers. Trouble is, they can't really claim ownership to the messiah story, pose or any other accessories anymore than Black folks can claim rock and roll. When you sell your car, you can't tell the new owner how to drive it.

Now, having said that. I'm not ruling out that Kanye might be a devil worshipper. He's a Catholic afterall and if there's anyone I know who believes in the devil more than Baptists, it's Catholics. The irony here is, the very same people who warn the world against Satanism are really the only ones who can actually practice it. You can't worship something you don't belive in. Were Kanye a heathen like me, you could rest assurred all the devil posturing would only be for show.  

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

UPDATE: I Think Jewish People are Great


I'm a genius.

Only a genius schedules a dental appointment on a federal holiday. To be fair, I scheduled it with my "vacation brain" -- the brain that basically runs on auto pilot through your life before you hit the road (in our case, Myrtle Beach).

I was getting dressed (reluctantly) when my wife was like "you should call them to make sure they're actually open -- it is July 5." Smart thinking,.

I called them and the receptionist picked up the phone (reluctantly). Holy shit, they were open.

So anyway, I went in to the mostly empty office. To say they were less then ecstatic to be there is not just an understatement but a lie -- they looked fucking pissed, like kids in detention on Saturday.

I'm led to the chair to get a filling fixed and commence with the small talk with the dental hygenist.

Me -- "I'm shocked you guys are open today."

Her -- "Yea, well that's what happens when you work for a Jew." She patted me on the shoulder and walked away.

PAUSE

I have experienced racism before. Like clear-cut "I hate you nigger" racism. I've had dogs sicced on me. Cops called -- the whole nine. I even experienced racism that wasn't aimed at me (long story short, the cafeteria menu at my old gig used pictures of sleeping bandidos to represent Hispanic Food Week on the menu).

But I wasn't prepared for anti semitism -- this coming from a guy who (yes, I'm going to say) is best friends with a Jewish guy. See there, I could have said a "Jew" but that word just doesn't sit right with me. That's how typically sensitive I am.

And yet, in the bald face of clear anti semtism, I froze.

I froze for a couple of reasons.

1. I simply could not believe she had the balls to say some shit like that. Especially, considering that her "jew boss" might be somewhere in the vicinity.
2. Why did this woman (a complete stranger) feel I was cool with her casual racism? Do I look an anti semetic sympathizer? Do I resemble Mel Gibson?

When I told my wife (after the initial shock wore off), she seemed to have a very quick and sadly realistic answer to why Eva Bruan the hygenist felt so comfortable sharing.

"Because most Black folks don't like Jewish people." -- She thinks "Jews" is an icky word, too.

Now, I don't know that I would say "most" but I have run into many Black folks who have less than nice things to say about our semetic brothers and sisters. Having lived in suburban Philadelphia, I grew up with a lot of them and, in our family, we grew to envy their sense of community.

So why am I bringing this up in what is otherwise a religion-based blog? Because I believe that people's issue with "The Jew" (that feels better in sarcastic quotes) is the whole "they killed Jesus thing." Need more evidence?

Got it.

After watching "Passion of the Christ," one of my wife's relatives said -- without hesitation -- "that's why no one likes them now."

Right. This from a woman who would chop off her left arm to shop in stores that 50 years ago would not let her piss in the alley behind them.

Point being, people who would otherwise find Jewish people delightful have been saddled with a prejudice brought on by, what I would say, is a made up story. That's like me hating white bald guys because Lex Luthor is such a dick.

Man, sometimes religion sucks.

UPDATE: Yes, I attended the million man march and I attest to this day that it was an important day for brothers, but there's a reason why the Nation of Islam didn't see a huge influx of members after that. Here's Farrakhan talking about evil "Jews" and sharecropping Negroes.



Thursday, June 17, 2010

Who Says Jesus Doesn't Like "The Gay?"


Who knew Jesus was a big Village People fan?

Apparently these three people did.

Though I gotta say, Vanilla Ice's brother on the end is making less of an "A" than an "O" shape, but hey, if the J-Man starts a YMCA hand gesture, you stop what you're doing and jump in. No questions asked.

Sadly, just moments (or maybe years) after this photo was taken Jesus was struck by lightning and burned down. Was it God's wrath for Jesus' love for heavily costumed and mustachioed homosexuals or did he ignite in a disco inferno?

We may never know.

Shout out to smokingsection.uproxx.com for the story.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

God Hates Grapes!



When I started this blog, I did so with so with some trepidation.

I've worked with Black folks pretty much every day since graduating from college (a Black university no less) and what I've learned is that we take religion pretty seriously. Not that we're all theologists. In fact, when it comes to belief in a higher being (and let's be real, we're talking about Jesus here), its more fear than purely intellectual pursuit. Fear of pissing Jesus off and fear of people who aren't afraid of pissing Jesus off.

I like to think I'm a smart guy and therefore keep company with smart people (not that I don't entertain dummies, in fact, its pretty easy if you have a paper clip and can whistle) and I've seen people with graduate degrees step away from me for fear that my casual atheism might bring down lightning -- cause, you know, Jesus shoots lightning from the bolts in his hands (I'm willing to bet there are some folks backing away from their computer screens after reading that).

Anyway, I say all that to say, Black people are scared of God in the same way I used to be afraid of my pet rabbit. Yes, it was cute and cuddly and I felt great that I had it in my life, but it also had really sharp teeth and had its own ideas as what to constituted "randomly biting the shit out of my finger."

Where am I going with this?

Grapes.

Still confused? You should be.

So, it was roughly 10 years ago and I was working at start up .com company. We were all young, working for shit money and high on the lure of becoming instant millionaires in the ever expanding universe we understood as the digital revolution.

There was this one guy I worked with, Stu (not his real name, like you give a shit) who was some sort of pseudo born-again Christian. I say pseudo because he was also responsible for hiring our first stripper intern. And that's not because he was acting all Jesus-like and mingling with the poor and shunned, it was because he was acting all Diddy-like and hanging out in strip clubs and recruiting "talent." QUICK ASIDE: The intern, who had an ass like a tomato and made the simple act of sitting in a chair obscene, claimed that she was NOT a stripper but a waitress at the strip club. Plausible, yes. But as one good friend said. If Arnold Schwarzenegger told you he worked at the gym but was only a cashier, would you believe him? Me neither.

Anywho, the high and mighty Stu observes me eating lunch one day and remarks -- no shit -- "you know real Christians don't eat grapes."

Now, first of all -- what the fuck!?! Gay marriage, sure. But grapes?

Honestly, I don't think I responded in words just a blank stare of incredulity.

"Yeah, the bible says Christians shouldn't eat grapes. I haven't eaten grapes for years now."

Normally, I would question such a dubious claim. I mean if someone says "You know Latinos fart gold dust," you'd think the very least you'd do is ask for a source. But I knew Stu was crazier than a shit-house rat, so I responded with my own piece of shocking information.

"Well," I quipped as I popped another juicy grape in my mouth, "it's a good thing I'm not a Christian."

BOO-YAH -- My first public admission of what, at the time, didn't really feel like a secret. More like a well-played "fuck you" card. Stu, like the others I've told, was shocked. In his head, there was no space for non-Christianized Black folks.

What I loved about the moment was not the admission, because honestly, it didn't feel like an admission, just a statement of fact. I loved that I pulled all the wind out of Stu's sails. He was looking to set me up, to prey upon my assumed Christian guilt and make me feel one step closer to hell -- which feels like a dick move, no? I mean, what if I was a Christian? What was his goal? Is this how Christians talk to each other?    

Ironically, it was after this moment of clear PWN-attitude that I retreated into my heathen cave, like a scared turtle.

PS: Stu was not just talking shit. Right there in the bible, Numbers 6:2-3 it says: 'If a man or woman wants to make a special vow, a vow of separation to the LORD as a Nazirite, he must abstain from wine and other fermented drink and must not . . drink grape juice or eat grapes or raisins.'" 


Sonofabitch!





Monday, May 31, 2010

Uh, What? Um, Okaaayyy . . . .

Unlike like the rest of the civilized world, I do NOT have HBO.

I haven't always been without it. In fact, I've had HBO longer than I've been having sex, seriously. But, with the advent of Netflix and the invention of credit card debt, I had to make some hard choices over the last several months including the cancellation of my near and dear friend, HBO.

One of my weekly pleasures has been watching Bill Maher's Real Time mostly because he's the only prime-time atheist who says a lot of things I think. Though, I have to say he has a venom in him I don't always understand.

Nevertheless, I now troll for Real Time clips on youtube and podcasts and I bumped into this amazing piece video of a fellow atheist who has more in common with Sarah Palin than Richard Dawkins. Enjoy.



Amazing, no?

So on one hand, I am totally in Bill's corner that our media (be if liberal or FOX News) is not critical enough of religion. As an atheist/agnostic, I know that American society is generally a faithful one. Now, the media seem critical of parts of religion -- especially those parts that lead to murder, incivility and molestation -- but overall its all in when it comes to believing.

On the other . . . you know what, I don't agree with old girl at all. I was gonna give her props for thinking outside her atheist box and note media bias, but Bill's point is stronger. No one in media, or anywhere else for that matter, questions the need or validity of supernatural faith.

However, there is one thing she apparently believes that I DO think is true. I believe President Obama is an atheist. But that is for another post.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Goodnight Sweet Rodent



Death has struck again.

Last Thursday night, as I was dutifully picking up Potbelly sandwiches and chips for the whole family, I received a distressing phone call from home.

"Daddy," my eldest daughter says, "I have really, really, really bad news to tell you. Spotty died."

Spotty is one of our two guinea pigs. Of the two, she was the oldest. Fat and lazy, she was the rodent equivalent of what I imagine Ernest Borgnine is like. A little ornery but really just too tired to do anything about it. While Bobbi (the other guinea pig) still runs from us every time we approach the cage, Spotty barely flinched. After agreeing to letting my daughters take Spotty out of her cage to play, I would often find her, in an empty room, perched on the second level of a Barbie dream house, with just the saddest look of humiliation a rodent of her size could muster. I mean, on one hand, Spotty seemed relieved the children had gone. And on the other, her beady eyes seemed to be saying "Really? This is my life? Could someone just put me back in my fucking cage so I can hide in peace?"

Well Spotty, your days of humiliation are finally over. Unless, you consider being buried in a Cheddar Harvest Sun Chips bag humiliating, in which case your days of humiliation are still plenty (or at least until the nifty compostable bag disintegrates).

However, what surprised me most were my daughters' reactions to Spotty's demise. They both cried. A lot. The eldest's tears seemed genuine. I mean she loved that pig and I guess I sort of underestimated that. Spotty was not our first guinea pig to die and her reaction to the first one's death was no more remorseful than mourning the end of an episode of "Two and a Half Men." But this time was different.

My youngest daughter, on the other hand, was caught in this strange limbo between morbid curiosity -- playing pint-size funeral director and peering intently as I slid/stuffed Spotty's cooling corpse into the snack bag -- and mimicked grief which ebbed and flowed depending on her proximity to her sister.

After putting Spotty in her "coffin," I hurried outside to dig a small grave in our back yard (mind you, it was dinner time and my turkey and cheese wasn't getting any warmer on the kitchen counter). And here's where it got interesting.

As you may know my father died almost a year ago. And instead of a burial and what not, we had him cremated and threw a memorial party in his memory. While it was great for us adults, my children never got to say good bye to him. He was just gone one day and I'm not really sure if they've recovered yet. And since we keep it real heathen-like in my house, we have neither confirmed nor denied the concept of heaven so their grasp on life after death is tenuous at best, I regret. So, as we tearfully eulogized Spotty, my youngest, said "and also good-bye to Pop Pop."

Aww man. That almost killed me. But I patted down the earth and kept it moving, somewhat relieved that she had a chance to say what she needed to say.

Sunday, April 11, 2010

He's Just Not that Into Me

So I called him.

Akeem. The man who only a couple of months ago deemed me the "winner" of a bible. The man who wrote his name and number in it and everything. I called him.

And you know what? He didn't have a fucking clue who I was.

Sucks, right?

I mean, here I was, thinking I was special. A bright, articulate heathen who had caught his eye that morning in February. But as he repeatedly asked how I knew him, it was clear I meant nothing to him. I guess he goes around handing out bibles all the time.

After recounting our time together, he said "oohhh yeah" in that way that made it clear he still didn't remember me but didn't want to be a dick.

Nevertheless, I didn't let this rejection stop me. I had questions for Akeem and I wasn't going to hang up until I got them.

"So, I'm calling because I wanted to know why, out of all the houses you surveyed, I got the bible?"

"Well, I belong to a 7th Day Adventist Church in the area and we were doing out reach and helping people out. We gave it to you because we wanted you to check it out. Not to win you over. You can check out our church. We respect your beliefs."

First off, 7th Day Adventist? I didn't know they did house calls. And here I was assuming he was a Jehovah's Witness. Seems I don't really know Akeem at all.

Second, while his statement seems disingenuous -- if you respect my beliefs (or lack thereof) why convince me that I "won" a bible with the hopes that I will "check it out?" -- he didn't seem all that concerned with me either.

I mean, maybe Akeem's up to his neck in heathens and I'm just one more on the pile. But something tells me he just wasn't all that concerned with converting me, which, kinda pissed me off. Since I started with this whole dating analogy, I'll stay the course with an even creepier analogy. Let's say I've got big tits. Really, nice big ones that look like heaven in this low cut shirt I just bought. Now, some guy waves and doesn't even acknowledge the heaving masterpiece below my neck. Is it flattering that at least ONE guy didn't start his conversations with my cleavage? Yes. Am I a bit suspicious and put off that he didn't sneak a peek at my bountiful bazooms? You damn skippy.

I say all this to say, I like tits. Wait, no. I'm saying this because while I don't want to be singled out for my lack of religion, if you're gonna look at it (and give me a prize for it), than shit yeah, I wanna talk about it. Don't give me the "wow, I didn't even see your gi-normous breasts falling out of your shirt." It's dishonest and I won't stand for it.

Anyway, Akeem eventually invited me to a class about prophecy, but you could tell he was totally half-assing it. You know, if I went he'd be all "oh hey, glad you came" and then giggle with his Jesus-buddies "Oh my god, I can't believe he came. I'm out of here."

Dude, I need to take a nap.   

Saturday, February 13, 2010

The Visit I've Been Waiting For




Not five minutes ago, I saw an older Asian man and a tall, younger African guy approaching our door.

"Jehovah's Witnesses," my wife said almost dissmissively, as if she'd seen this movie before. And to be fair, she has. Like, a million times.

Nevertheless, if two men approach my door, I like to be there to open it.

"Hi, I'm David" the Asian guy offers his hand. "And this is [Joe]." In actuality his name was something more African but I can't remember it.

David explained he was here to do a survey and asked if I had time for it, which, I said I did just HOPING this had something to do with Jesus.

"Ok, do you and your family currently belong to a church?" (YAHTZEE!)

"No, we don't."

"Do you believe that world would be a better place if we all followed the word of the Bible?"

"No, not really." Now, to be honest I DO think the world would be better if everyone followed the golden rule. But that's like one paragraph in a sea of fairy tales and troublesome passages -- killing menstruating women and what not. I would feel socially irresponsible if I thought the world would pick that one nugget out the shit pile AND get it right. Besides Christianity has been around for thousands of years and followed by damn near a third of the planet and, for my money, haven't proved to be such a great deal.

I really got to give it to David and Joe, they didn't visibly flinch though I bet almost everyone who answered that particular question says something in the neighborhood of "yes." Even for the heathen, you cannot escape the thrill of blasphemy when saying something so contradictory to the American faith narrative. I almost didn't say it, but I hate lying more than appeasement.

The big question: "What religion were you raised with, as a child?"

"None," I said (my chest almost perciptablly puffed out with heathen pride). That's right Dave, you're not dealing with some run-of-the-mill "spiritual/non-religious" Johhny Six Pack. This is the real McCoy.

This time David, did do a slight double-take, followed by a refrain.

"So, no religion?"

"Right."

"Well, is there anything else I can do for you? Pray with you or pray for you?"

An odd question, no? I mean, if someone told me they were a vegetarian I'd either have to be hard of hearing or convinced otherwise to then ask them if they wanted to share a cheese steak.

"Nah, I'm good." I said, rather pleased with myself.

A couple handshakes and the two were back on their way, off to knock on more doors. Me? I felt satisfied that two of God's errand boys were witness to the civility and NORMALITY of the neighborhood heathen.

And that was it . . . or was it?!?!

I shit you not, 30 minutes later (yes, it's taken me that long to write this entry), there's a tentative knock on the front door. I rush downstairs, hoping to see the snow-delayed mailman with our Netflix movies for the long weekend.

No, it was Joe.

"Hi, we finished our survey and we determined that you were the winner of the free bible." And dude hands me a black, New King James bible.

I said "Thanks," as he skipped off with lollipop dreams of me sitting down in the kitchen and being instantly converted in his head.

What I SHOULD have said, was "Oh, no thanks, I've already got a copy." Which is true. I have a New International version in the guest room. I even marked the funny parts in yellow highlighter. Alas my tongue was so quick.

So now what? Am I really the biggest heathen in this neighborhood? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm flattered, just shocked. Do I get to wear a scarlet H on my shirt. Ooh, what if there's a tshirt: "Two out of Two Jehovah's Witnesses Agree That I'm Going to Hell."

Sweet.

PROLOGUE: I actually opened the bible and saw the dedication page. Apparently, the bible was gifted to a guy named Michael from his mom and dad.  "He gave you his own bible," my wife said with the tears almost falling off her tongue. Admittedly, the sentiment took all the cynical wind out of my sails. If "Joe" was really Michael than I would feel really bad. Good thing he wasn't. I flipped to the back of the Bible and saw another name handwritten there -- "Akeem." THAT was Joe's name. I knew it was something more African sounding. I guess Michael donated his bible to Akeem to pass out to random heathens. Who knows? Point is Akeem is the one who gave it to me and, what's more, HE LEFT HIS PHONE NUMBER! I just got booked evangelical style. Thing is, I WILL call him. I've had plenty of true believers reach out, but this time I'm going to take up the gauntlet. I'm going to call Akeem. Like, in a couple days. Not immediately, I don't want him to think I'm some sort of spiritual slut.

I'll keep you posted 

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Why Gay Marriage Should Be Legal

Before you behold this most holy spectacle, may I submit that this man is not at all interested in kissing the bride. In fact, the thought of locking lips with his blushing bride seems to make him throw up in his mouth. I further submit that his religious fit is just a cover-up to the complete misery he's imagining his life will be for the next 20-30 years as he alternates nights swallowing back bile as he "makes out" with his wife and nights where he lets his hair down at the local watering/glory hole.

I'm not a gambling man, but I bet dollars to donuts (a tasty wager) that this guy is a choir director (if you know what I mean) who's marrying this lovely beard to avoid those nasty rumors.

Enjoy!

Saturday, January 30, 2010

Incredulity . . . HOOOOOOOO!



WARNING: If you're looking to engage me in a serious discussion regarding the legal dealings of Satan, I can only do my best not to laugh directly in your face.

I should have posted that warning on my forehead two seconds before I chose to engage in the rather interesting conversation I had with a co-worker yesterday.

Nancy and I were working off site yesterday (sounds offical huh?) and she offered me a ride back to the office, which was lovely cause it's cold as shit in DC (currently, my children are playing hide and seek in 3-4 inches of falling snow) and I really didn't want to take another seven city-block hike back to the metro. Minutes later, we're in her car and I, very openly start judging her based on her CD collection. Like most Americans, she owns several Jay-Z albums including his last sub-par opus "Blueprint 3."

That's when she hits me with:

"I love Jay-Z but I'm a little worried about him."

"Why?"

"Those rumors that he's a devil worshipper."
(Didn't hear those rumors? Go here for the madness)

At THAT moment I should have kept my mouth shut or changed the subject, but I didn't. I couldn't. I was compelled to stay. Compelled to disobey (movie fans should know that line).  I had the overwhelming desire to expose Nancy's belief in the devil and leave it ruins along side other broken myths like Santa Claus and good Maxwell albums. So . . . I continued.

No need to recount each line of our back and forth -- her insisting upon the possibility of Jay-Z's Satan worshipping and I speaking sanely -- since it all ends up at the turning point, the question I couldn't resist and the answer I knew was coming.

"Do you," I asked, "believe in the devil?"

"Yes," she said without hesistation.

Yes

"And, I assume, you also believe one can actually sell your soul to the devil?" In reality, I'm sure my face did not ACTUALLY look like Count Dracula licking his chops over some poor peasant girl's neck, but, goddamn it, it felt that way.

"Yes I do"

Oh god yes

"Why, you don't believe in the devil?" She shot back.

And that's when I let her have it. The whole kit and caboodle, the whole nine yards, the two piece and biscuit. It was the "I Have a Dream" speech for heathens. Oh, you should have BEEN there.

To put it mildly, she was flabbergasted and responded with the usual litany of half-questions:
"What do you . . ."
"How do you . . . "
"Where do you get your morals  . . . "

"Well," she said, "you DO believe in God right?"

A good question that I don't have a clear answer for. If I do believe in "something" it's a universal force barely withing human comprehension -- like gravity. But mostly that question is about my belief in a paternalistic, Christian God -- something I do not believe in.

"So you've never been brought to your knees, huh?" She posited, somewhat smugly.

What she meant was, you don't believe in God because you've never had to. If the conditions were just shitty enough, I would become a believer. It's the spiritual equivalent of "you just haven't found the right guy yet." Sounds like a bad proposition -- "You'll love God when you've lost your hands in a dangerous pinocle game and your wife leaves you for Steve Buscemi." It's the "last resort God" or the old testament God who fucked over Job's life to prove to the devil (who God MADE) that he still was loyal to him. All in all, not the best pitch to make when slinging faith.

To be clear, I felt a little aggressed upon and shot back.

"You mean like losing my father last May?"

That shut her up.

I can't be sure why I was so intent on arguing over the merits of faith, but I was a dog with a bone -- quite rude considering she was giving me a ride. But I couldn't help it. I almost felt the need to apologize, but I didn't.

If there's a prayer circle in my office on Monday, I'll know I should have said "sorry."

Sunday, January 10, 2010

I Have No Words (OK, maybe a couple)



I know, right?

At first you're like, "what is that?" Because most of your brain just cannot fathom that what you're seeing is real.

But that little part of your brain that sees sex everywhere -- hot dogs, bananas, folded laundry (just me?) --  whispers in your ear "that's a jesus dildo."

Honestly, I don't have much to say about this -- mostly because my mom reads this blog -- but I tip my athiest/agnostic hat to the good people at divine-interventions.com (tee-hee) for having the pure, testicular fortitude to create the "Jackhammer Jesus."

Think you got the gumption to see more -- OH, there's more -- click right here.

As you were.

Saturday, January 9, 2010

Ben Stein isn't Very Bright




I was working out this morning (it's a new year, right?) and, since the children have lost/hidden my remote, I was passively forced to watch Ben Stein's documentary "Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed." I actually only saw the last 30 minutes of it, but that was enough to fuel this latest entry of gold.

So, if you're unaware, the film is a defense of Intelligent Design, the concept that life on earth was designed by some unseen hand and not the random happenings of evolution. And while many of its proponents claim it has nothing to do with religion, that's a farce. It's like a guy telling a woman her really nice ass has nothing to do with him wanting to grab it. In my opinion, and apparently the rest of the scientific world, Intelligent Design is the religious community's way of shoehorning God into our textbooks.

And, just so we're clear. I'm not 100% sold on evolution in the sense that there was a time when all scientists agreed the earth was flat or that Sandra Bullock was a reason to go to movies. Point being: what is fact one day is false the next. Ask the brontosaurus. That said, I put my FAITH in the science of evolution as a good answer to how life on this planet happens. If for nothing else, scientists don't fuck up my weekends by knocking on my doors and forcing me to hide behind my couch.

Anyway, when I turn the movie on Ben Stein (the first evangelical Jew I've ever heard of) is touring a Nazi concentration camp. Why? Because apparently Hitler believed in Darwinism and therefore exterminated millions of "inferior" people. So, there you have it, following Darwin leads to you becoming an ethnic-cleansing lunatic so evil that the sight of your mustache alone makes people pause. And with science out of the way, the only example to follow will be religion and we all know no one ever got killed or harmed in the name of faith.

(ironic dramatic pause)

But Stein's just getting warmed up. His REAL argument is that denying the discussion of intelligent design in academia is akin to the evils of the Berlin Wall. And sure enough, the movie starts flashing black and white images of people secreting over the barrier so they too can learn about Intelligent Design. One incredulous ID researcher says (I'm paraphrasing, but not much): "They've pretty much said that religion and science will always be separate. This is what the Academy of Science is saying. So that sort of ends the debate before it gets started doesn't it?!?" Yes, it does. Thank you. Religion is not science. Just like puppies aren't cookies. Maybe you like both of them, but one is for petting and one is for eating (unless you're in China).

This all builds up the climax of the film -- a rousing speech by Stein to a room full of, what looks like to me, the same defiantly-happy crowds you see at a Christian Rock concerts (their zeal is almost violent). The imagery suddenly becomes very Michael Bay-ish -- saturated colors, slow motion waving flags, Megan Fox leaning on motorcycles -- as Stein's call for freedom is, I shit you not, intercut with a speech from Ronald Reagan about the Berlin Wall. Seriously, it was like right-wing porn. It could only have been topped if Billy Ray Cyrus rode in on a deer and then shot that deer with a Miller Lite rifle. But I digress.

At the end of the day, neither science or religion do a good job of answering the question: how did it all start. I throw in with science because at least they allow for themselves being wrong. Believers are not as flexible. You cannot question things. It is, by definition, the opposite of science.

I don't know how to end this post, so I'll just stop typing.

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Brit Hum-ungous Prick

If you haven't heard or seen by now, FOX News commentator Brit Hume urged Tiger to renounce his Buddhist ways and convert to Christianity so that he can, ahem, redeem himself. Seeing as the Daily Show has already done an excellent job lambasting Hume I won't take up too much of your time.



So why write anything? Because moral absolutism fascinates/repulses me. It's the reason I watch FOX News. It's the only place where you can gaurantee that an entire company is working to find the negative spin on everything THEY don't agree with. Obama saves a child? FOX NEWS: Why didn't he save three more? The economy is perking up? FOX NEWS: Yes, but hamsters still can't read. And it's all because FOX, and the "conservatives" they dance for, have a huge hard-on for Obama and the Dems. I get it, seriously I do, but that doesn't make it any less entertaining.

Likewise with religion. I am fascinated by people who - having never met Jesus or anyone who knew him; having never lived in other parts of the world; tried different religions or have never died - can definitively say that Christianity is the best religion going.

Look, I love Reese's Buttercups. And for the last 35 years of my life, I have yet to find anything equaling its in-your-face deliciousness (yes, Cinnabon, I love you too but eating a desert the size of a baby's head is . . . disconcerting). Neverthless, I haven't tried ALL candies and can't proclaim from the top of Mount Hershey that Reese's Buttercups are the Alpha and Omega of sweet treats. I mean, I would if they discovered Mount Hersey -- and I could get to the top without all the hiking and sherpas and frostbite -- but for now that is only a fantasy. Much like the supposed contest between Christianity and Buddhism.

So to Mr. Hume (who is now claiming he's being persecuted because of his Christianity -- for FUCK'S SAKE), I get it, you dig Jesus. So does most of the country you broadcast in. But if Tiger is a buddhist, let him be (if anything, he appears to have more Mormon tendencies). Besides, if Christianity really had the redemptive power you claim, why haven't you or any of your fellow "journalists" forgiven Bill Clinton?

Saturday, January 2, 2010

Party Pooper


Well, it's a new year and I STILL have not been struck down by lightning (much to the shock of many of my Christian friends). Take THAT vengeful God! Anyway, onto the first post of 2010.

Last Thursday, as I did my damned best to get out of the office in a respectable manner (you know, without sprinting at full speed to the front-door), I asked my co-workers the same question everyone was asking:

"What are your plans for New Year's Eve?"

Being an old, married father of two, my New Year's Eve plans are . . . they're not plans. New Year's Eve in my neck of the woods is a lot like Friday night only  . . .  actually there's no "only." My New Year's Eve was EXACTLY like my Friday night. But you  know, that's cool. Seriously, I dig being at home with my family eating pizza, plumbing the DVR for what I've missed and occasionally sneaking down into the basement for a little "tickle the joystick" with my mistress; madame Xbox 360. Call me crazy, but it's a little slice of heaven I look forward to every week.

Anyway, while some of my co-workers told me about nights out on the town, more than one said "I'll be in church."

In church for new year's.

Granted, I'm aware that church is open for new year's but so is 7-11, so simply having the lights on doesn't seem like the most compelling reason to go.

And it wasn't like these people had lost a bet. Like "I'll pay you $100 if you touch that road kill that touch your tongue." "And if I don't?" "The you have to spend new year's eve  . . . . in church."

Seems fine for shut-ins and people over 70, but I'm talking single people in their 30's. Let's say you're not a drinker or a fornicator and hate clubs, cool. What about a good movie (Sherlock Holmes is good) or invite you and your non-drinking, celibate, dorky friends over to play Warcraft (seriously, what else would that bunch be playing)?

I dunno, going to church on new year's eve just feels like throwing in the towel a bit early, no? Like, fuck it, I'm not doing anything with my life now, might as well start living like my grandparents.

Again, it's not like I was knocking back Cristal with Diddy in the Hamptons (actually, I would not want to do that), but still.

Perhaps the problem is I've never had fun in church. I take that back. I've never had intentional fun at church. I usually end up enjoying myself quite a bit, but that's usually a defensive mechanism for being trapped in the three-hour screaming sermon delivered by a man with suspiciously too-long nails.

Often I feel that church is that TV show that other people just rave about, but every time you catch it they say "oh that's not the best episode." At this point, I just agree to disagree. Church is my "Two and a Half Men."

But maybe I'm missing out. I mean, Jesus turned water to wine so there's probably lots of drinking going on. And who knows, maybe there's like a Ten Commandments drinking game; take a shot if you covet my wife. I mean those folks in Sodom seemed like a lively bunch, so maybe I don't know what I'm talking about.

Ultimately, I guess if everyone I know and love is at church for new year's eve, I'd be there, too. But if everyone I know was in church on new year's eve, I'd be like "you know there's a 7-11 open just around the corner. Let's fill up on ring dings and read Black Men magazine till our eyes bleed."