Dear Jesus,
Are you my diary? Then help me to write a bad entry. Just a stupid shitty entry that isn’t fun to read. People tell me that God can make a rock that’s big enough to crush himself. Well if God can do that, and you’re the 4th or 5th luminary in the pyramid scheme of heaven’s hierarchy, then surely you can invest me with the power to make an entry that’s unappealing. Cuz all my entries appeal to people.
Yeah, just thots. Normal thots. Not clever, not fun. How about lazy definitions. Like the classic scenario: An alien comes to Earth and says: “What is this place? Take me to your leader, I wanna talk to Bryan Ray the Blog-O-Master.” And you correct her: “That’s pronounced Rabbi Bryan Ray the Blog-O-Master. And it is a trademarked name.” And the alien says “I understand.” So you take her to see the Wiz.
Here I am, dressed casually. I’m wearing a white shirt like a pirate. My hair is uncombed. My shirt is open: down too many buttons: parted low to reveal my pale neckline. The alien greets me with an holy kiss. “What is this place? Tell me about it,” says my guest.
Well you’ve crashed on a planet that’s known for its fill-in-the-blanks. The planet is round like a coin, and flat like paper money. It’s basically a holder of things, like a black hole when you unroll it like a cigarette. Instead of there being all the tobacco that the black hole sucked in over the ages (for you know that when light rays enter its event horizon, they turn into ash, and the byproduct of this exchange is the gamma radiation that created Big Green Jesus of Ultra Nazareth; also known as Jesus Two), I say, instead of there being zillions of little fragments of tobacco inside the Earth’s unrolled landscape, there are things like animals and verbs and places inside. I’ll explain what these things are, a little later. First, let’s take animals: Animals are like cats.
Cats? Please explain.
You know, cats. They have four legs and a tail, and they sip milk thru their fangs.
OK, your definition paints the mental picture of a rhinoceros. I will now go thru life assuming that Earth is a place overrun with rhinoceri.
Yes, good. Also we have bedrooms. And granite countertops. Hamburgers and frankfurters. A hamburger is a round patty of ground beef, fried or grilled and typically served on a bun or roll and garnished with various condiments. The word is from German, from Hamburg. And a hot dog is defined as a seasoned smoked sausage typically made of beef and pork, often filled with cheese and beer. From German Frankfurter Wurst, that is: ‘bad Frankfurt sausage.’
So I, the alien, interrupt you now, dear Bryan Ray, to ask you if I am following you correctly. It seems that this concept called VERB is what one does when one is in trouble. Am I correct about this? Say a boulder is falling from a mountainside, because God escaped out from under the rock that killed him, forever and ever. How do you thwart God’s will? You must Hamburg something, or Frankfurt something. These are places in America?
New America. Like Ultra Nazareth, Christ Two-Point-Oh, subtitled: Doubting Thomas Gets His Way.
So if the U.S. is mostly a collage of German bloopers, then how do you explain the French influence upon everything here?
The Frenchmen are the Dadaists and the Surrealists. They’re what we must bat back, if we want to become good suburbanites. The goal here is to spend all your time physically laboring, covered in sweat, raking leaves from your lawn. What lie did you say you were from?
Planet Teardrop.
Ah, yes, planet Teardrop. Named on account of its shape. Cuz the black hole nearby keeps wooing you, but you play hard-to-get. Even your sun and its fellow planets and their moons all succumbed to the giant sucking sound, but you held to your terrain. Your terra firma. Good for you. So what I meant by physically laboring was not the act of giving birth to a litter of squidlings into your kitchen sink. On the contrary, I meant as follows:
You bought a brown house. The house has ugly trees in its vast yard. The trees shed, just like the cats in the above example; so your yard is like a swimming pool with leaves instead of water.
And all the host of heaven shall be dissolved, and the heavens shall be rolled together as a cigarette: and all their host shall fall down, as the leaf falleth off from the vine, and as a falling fig from the fig tree. (Isaiah 34:4)
For ye shall be as an oak whose leaf fadeth, and as a garden that hath no water. And the strong shall be as tow, and the maker of it as a spark, and they shall both burn together, and none shall quench them. (Isaiah 1:30-31)
But did you ever wonder why rocket ships never got invented, and that’s why you, my dear alien whose name I know not, remain faraway on planet Teardrop instead of visiting me on Earth?
No.
Well, I’ll tell you then. It’s because we lost interest in actual physical reality, like roller coasters that bring us from moon to moon, or robot suits that allow us to walk on the sun: these would-be inventions were given late-term abortions by the dictates of our system, the system of moneylust, and our attention meandered over into the realm of speculation, so we invented personal electronic communication devices—cell phones—instead of flying wagons. Now all our wooden spaceships are burning in hell. And they’ll never get out, cuz the melting point of wood is quicker than silver, but God prefers to keep his calves on the Gold Standard. And in order to make heaps of cash, you must already possess heaps of cash. It’s not like imagination, where you don’t even need a mind to imagine a thing: for, lo, chemical substances like water have been around for millennia before a thot ever existed to drink them. All you need is for your brain-balls to have once experienced the sensation of something like wetness, and then you twist this memory into something new. Consider again the cat that I taught you to make. Just envision the horn being removed from your feline’s forehead, and paste this horn upon the front-crawl of the verb “horseplay”: that’s how unicorns got into the Bible. They’re not dropped by storks or gestated out by celibates who fornicated. And lions and lambs are the same way: that’s why they’ll never lie down together. They’re too holy for all that jazz. Same with sheep and goats. Eternal life is an apartheid state. You got heaven over here, and hell over there, where all our good ideas go up in flames.
So instead of learning how to (A) breathe under·lava on Jupiter or (B) impregnate Venus, we opted to invent a more meticulous banking system?
Not “we”—only us earthlings. You didn’t help us do nothing; you’re just an alien visitor, remember? I keep coming back to that fact, because it’s impossible. It’s not every day that one gets to encounter fake news. When a miracle happens, cherish it—that’s what I say. For, after about a generation, not even God will remember that he picnicked with us in the plains of Mamre.
And Jehovah appeared in the plains of Mamre: and he sat in the tent door in the heat of the day.
And Abraham lift up his eyes and looked, and said: “Jehovah! if now I have found favour in thy sight, pass not away, I pray thee, from thy servant. Let a little water, I pray you, be fetched, and wash your feet, and rest yourself under the tree. And I will fetch a morsel of bread, for I know that thou art a vegan; and no meat from any beast may touch thy lips, but only food from plants; and the occasional coal…
Then flew one of the seraphims unto me,
having a live coal in his hand,
which he had taken with the tongs
from off the altar:
And he laid it upon my mouth, and said:
Lo, this hath touched thy lips;
and thine iniquity is taken away:
thou hast become as God;
knowing both good and evil.[Isaiah 6:6-7]
…therefore now sit down here while I hasten to make a meal (I will prepare the feast myself; I will not ask my wife to help me); yea, comfort thee your hearts — that is correct: I said hearts, plural. For as a cow hath multiple stomachs for her digestion; I know with a surety that thou ownest multiple hearts.”
And Jehovah said: “So do, as thou hast said.”
And Abraham ran unto the herd, and fetcht a calf tender and good, and gave it unto a young man; and he hasted to dress it. And he took butter, and milk, and the calf which he had dressed, and set it before them; and he stood by them under the tree, and they did eat. (Genesis 18:1-8)
Now, what are the guts of God to do with calf meat? Abraham admits earlier to knowing that God is a vegan; and we can trust this admission, for modern science tells us that God is at the least a vegetarian. Jehovah’s digestive system was designed to run on plant roots, spinach and almond milk. It was spoken into existence by the finest German engineers. So what happens is that the animal products get all mashed up and cause the gears to jam. And I recall a popular Christian apologist declaring that we can never know the cause of our deity’s anger: It could be that we truly sinned when we partook of the Tree of Wisdom; on the other hand, it could be that our LORD’s bad mood is simply due to indigestion — as it is written: He is propelled by many hearts, but only one stomach. And note that he does not ask his wife to help out, when the feast is being prepared. He doesn’t even hasten into God’s tabernacle and shout:
Make ready quickly three measures of fine meal, knead it, and serve cakes upon the hearth; for Jehovah, the fiercest food critic in the galaxy (hailing from the nation of north-north-western Teardrop), has visited our eatery! (Genesis 18:6)
Now I was going to try to say something about Jehovah being his own wife, so you have both spouses in the same container; and then, when there’s a marriage spat, one of the parties consents to be jettisoned, and this is a form of self-divorce. And the shadow spouse resulting from the great breakup is codenamed Satan, which means, being interpreted, THE ADVERSARY; because not even God is above a good smear-piece in the newspaper. (Who do you think invented yellow journalism? I myself am only comfortable tracing every detail back to its Creator.) And because I made this rule for myself where I always must end my blog post once I quote the King James Bible, I intended to work in that passage from near the end of the Book of Job which I always love to repeat; and it could be framed as Jehovah angrily slandering his ex-wife Lilith, yet using imagery and evidence familiar exclusively to his own existence — becuz, remember, God doesn’t really have a spouse beyond his wiser aspect, which he deported and slung-shot back to its native planet Teardrop, as Abram leaked in the passage above… So this scene would play like a demiurge whining into a magic mirror about his long-lost love, and his insults are all half-compliments, because he wishes that he could be as foul as his jealousy:
She dwelleth and abideth on the rock, upon the crag of the rock, and the strong place. From thence she seeketh the prey, and her eyes behold afar off. Her young ones also suck up blood: and where the slain are, there is she. (Job 39:28-30)
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