Sunday, June 20, 2010

It's a Choice, Not a Child

Welcome back, my friends. This is going to be difficult. You see, I have a confession to make; but not really. I'm going to cut right to the chase, ladies and gentlemen, and talk about abortion. Also, I'm going to say… it's really not so bad.

Don't leave yet! I'm not saying you don't have to think it's not bad. Nor am I saying it's as much fun as bowling for strippers. But, you see, I did a little research and, honestly, I couldn’t find much about abortion.

Sure there are lots of passages in the Bible that tell us about the sanctity of life, but, amazingly, there's very little about abortion. In fact, by my estimation, the practice didn't even exist back then, but if it did, Jesus never bothered mentioning it. And if Jesus didn't care enough to mention it it can’t possibly be an issue.

Then again, there is that sanctity bullshit I mentioned earlier. But--let's be real--who actually bothers with that? How many of you would give up the death penalty to promote this notion? Hell with all the smiting, war and incest, even God doesn’t seem to give a fuck about life. Hell, he performed the first mass post-term abortion in Egypt. Sometimes you've just got to man up and take someone’s life! Or a zygote’s!

And when are those times? Well, let’s say--hypothetically—there’s a guy who's in the middle of a divorce and, one crazy night, he may have shared a tender moment with his 16 year old babysitter, got a little fruitful with her and multiplied. Anyway, personal responsibility aside, someone's got to pay and it ain't going to be me! Or so that guy might have thought if he was someone that wasn’t me.

So anyway, we have this fertilized egg here and no one's in a good position to take care of it. The girl's too young and naive, and the guy is too irresponsible for, well, pretty much anything really.

Another option is adoption, but adoption agencies are already overpopulated and I fucking hate Oliver Twist. Plus, you still waste a perfectly good teenage body with stretch marks.

There’s also the question of whether or not the zygote is life? Well, yeah, every cell is alive, but by that logic every time a man fertilizes a bath towel, he's commiting genocide. Plus that means facials, pearl necklaces, and angry pirates are all a sin; and that idea just makes the world feel a little colder.

Am I rationalizing? Maybe I am a tad. Honestly, I don't know what to think. Being a man of God, I guess I'm supposed to think it’s wrong, but then I realize it may not be, and holy Hell, after a while I just don’t give a fuck because I can't afford to pay the child support.

Oh. Damn.

Seriously, though, she was really, really hot and totally worth it.

Saturday, June 12, 2010

I, Cain, Has Cheezeburger?

Good morning my fellow parishioners. Welcome back to God's House of Worship and Barbecue! I'd like to take the time to mention that in case of a fire, the exits are located both to the left and the right of the aisles and since I'm the most important person here, stay the hell out of my way.

Speaking of imminent death, today I’m going to discuss something serious. Murder. In fact, we’re going to talk about the first murderer, Cain. Coincidentally, he also committed the first murder.

So, how much do you think you know about him? Do you know why he killed his brother? Do you know what his punishment was? Do you know where you going to? Do you like things that life is showing you?

Well first thing's first. Here are the facts:

A) Cain killed Abel, who was his brother.
B) God approached Cain and both of them played coy until finally God called Cain out like a bitch.
C) Cain got off scott free.

What? Why? We kill our murderers, but God lets Cain go? Sure "thou shall not kill" wasn't invented, yet, but what the hell? Was this a foreshadowing of the hippy, tree-hugging New Testament God? No, but we'll get into that in a bit.

First, let's review the reasons behind Cain's consternation.

Cain and Abel were getting ready to provide an offering to God. What God, the Lord of the entire universe, would need with any kind of offering—maybe he needed a startship--is left to our imaginations. I guess he just wanted to see if they'd do it.

Cain and Abel had different professions. Abel herded sheep and Cain was a farmer. What neither knew, though, was that, like any real man, God loves the meat.

Anyway, it turns out that Cain offered up his freshly grown veggies and fruits, whereas Abel had all kinds of kabobs, sausages, and Shepherds’ pie ready for the munching. So God totally ignored Cain's offering of fruit salads, vegetarian chili, and tofurkey. But He straight up salivated over Abel’s juicy and tender ribs. I bet He could suck the meat off the bone.

So next thing you know, God adds insult to injury by nut-stomping Cain by asking him, "Why are you furious? And why are you downcast? If you do right, won't you be accepted? But if you do not do right, sin is crouching at the door. Its desire is for you, but you must master it."

Let me break that down. First God shuns Cain, then tells him that it's all good so long as you do right. What the hell does that even mean? How was he to know what was right when God hadn’t made any rules, yet? And now he's got to master sin? His mom and dad couldn't even master not eating fruit because a a goddamn—literally—snake tempted them. How fucked up is that?

Now, granted, they didn't have the internet back then, but I can tell you right now that if a snake ever offered me shit, not only would I not accept it, I'd run the hell away screaming, “Holy Shit! Talking snake!"

So Cain, in the Bible's first example of insane overreaction takes everything out on Abel and kills him.

Okay, so God, the maker of everything, tells you that your food sucks. So what? It’s not like he’s Chef Ramsay. He said it was all good so long as you do right, bro. I could understand maybe not talking to your brother at dinner, or maybe not even sending him a Christmas card or whatever they had before Christmas. But you don't react by wasting the one dude on the planet that knows how to cook on a spit.

Well it gets crazier. As much as God loved his lamb chops, he did not immediately smite the living fuck out of Cain. Instead, he toys with him by asking Cain where his brother is. Cain, demonstrating that his balls were made of lead-coated diamonds, shrugs God off with the famous fuck you: Am I my brothers keeper?

Oh shit. Now it’s on. It’s on with God. His ass is so smoted.

But no. God does goes off on Cain but only curses him mildly. The worst part of it being that Cain will no longer be able to farm a fart from a mole and is now, like Harrison Ford, a fugitive.

Think about that for a second . What is he a fugitive of? God? That doesn't make sense. Who would chase after him forcing him to leap from one building to the next and hang on precariously to helicopters? Also, wandering around the earth isn't being a fugitive, it's being a hobo. Plus, God’s everywhere, so where could he reasonably go?

Regardles, Cain demonstrated that he was also the first pussy and whined that was just too much. He'll be wandering around and whoever finds him will kill him. But, who would find him? His mom and dad? Baby brother Seth? Who was around? That's a lot of earth to wander, but not a whole hell of a lot of people. Yes, I know the story’s a metaphor, but damn, that's a lot of plot holes.

So God emasculates him and says, "That's right, ass. Now deal."

Actually, I'm kidding. What he does is actually more insane. God comforts Cain and says, “If anyone kills Cain, vengeance shall be taken on him sevenfold.”

Wait, what? I can't figure this one out.

And that's where we all come in. This isn't just a place for teaching, it's a place for learning. We all learn from each other. Take me for instance, I learned from my penis that Earl Townshend over there gave me his Herpes and still has the sack to show up to church. With my biohazard of a wife, too. And I’m pretty sure she’s giving him a hand job.

So let’s share what we each take from this tale of malice, murder, and mutton. In the comments section, please tell what you believe is the moral of this tale. Sure it’s a copout since I don’t I have a clue, but I also want to involve you, my dear parishioners more into my love zone that I call this church.

Before you go, this week Dr. Viktor Klinkhammer will be holding a workshop on how to avoid medical costs by faking your own death. As well, the Church of the Casual Christian will be hosting our first movie night with the family-friendly Passion of the Christ. We could only find the unrated version, but I'm sure it's fine. Bring your kids; we'll bring the popcorn!

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Miracle or Dick Move?

Welcome, my beloved Bible brethren. I hope you all had a lovely weekend. Mine was peculiar but not altogether unpleasant. However, that does remind me, I need to do a sermon soon about the evils of mixing alcohol with men in heels.

Moving on; someone brought up to me after last week's sermon that I have been focusing too much on the Old Testament for the last several sermons, and that it was quite disturbing.

I suppose I should apologize; the Old Testament can be quite intimidating. What with all the killing, rape, and incest which, while extremely sexy, is not particularly family oriented. Which, if you think about it, is kind of ironic. The Bible isn't family-friendly enough for you, huh? How about I whip out some Japanese tentacle porn?

I kid! Today, in the interest of fairness, I will be focusing on exploring a particular passage in the Bible of which many of you are familiar. The story is of the resurrection, by Christ, of Lazarus.

This story is in the Gospel of John, Chapter 11. Now this is a sweet story on the outside, but don't be fooled! Because when that sexy red dress comes off, that's not the delicious sticky goodness of a Cadbury Egg on your tongue. No. That's the salty, bitter taste of drunken gay sex. And let me tell you, it doesn't taste like good, it tastes like crazy.

So, Jesus comes to this town somewhere in Bibleland and one of the two billion Marys and her sister Martha are mourning the death of their brother, Lazarus who, it turns out, has been dead for about 4 days.

So Jesus, being the nice guy he is, raises their brother from the dead because the ladies' faith is strong and because Mary dried Jesus' feet with her hair. That was rare back then, you know. These days you can get it for maybe $10 at the right places. Of course, you have to worry about lice. But lice don't matter to Jesus; he'd just turn them into fast-actin' Tinactin, or some kind of holy cocaine that he'd snort off of hooker-Mary's thigh.

Anyway, here's where I'm going to stop with the story. First--credit where it's due--Mary and Martha are thrilled to have their brother back. And that's great, because they're happy and Jesus looks good.

In fact, that was part of the reason he did it, so people would stop doubting that he was the Son of God. And, wow, did that backfire! But that's a story for another day.

After reading this recently I began to ponder. Have you ever been forced awake from a great dream? Remember how disappointed you felt or how badly you needed to pee? Now multiply that by infinity billion because that's what Jesus just did to Lazarus. This guy was dead! His soul was in heaven! Eternal Bliss! That's like about 50 billion orgasms happening all at once and never, ever ending.

So while Mary and Martha had a nice favor done for them, Lazarus got brought back from Heaven to the shit-hole that was Bethany.

Now what can we take from this story? At the very least, I suppose, Lazarus had something to look forward to again. Though, if I were him, I would be pissed at my sisters.

Sure it would make a hell of a tale to tell at the pub. All the guys asking poor Laz to tell them about the time he died for the fiftieth time. And poor Lazarus would whistfully tell them about how fantastic Heaven was and end up in tears crying out, "God! Take me back! Kill me, please!" And some douchebag would call him a lady. Well, let me tell you something, jerkoff, women don't have a monopoly on crying!

I suppose Lazarus was just taking one for the team, because, according to the book of John, it was because of this miracle that the Pharisees finally decided Jesus had to die or else the Romans would destroy them. And if Jesus didn't die, then none of this would've happened and we'd all still be Jewish, and then I'd only be talking about the Old Testament, and you'd just have to sit there and fucking take it. Bitches.

Anyway, the youth trip to Tijuana has been cancelled due to the ongoing drug war at the border towns in Mexico. Instead, they'll be going to Windsor, Canada to see how clean city streets can be and to protest all the gambling we adults will certainly not be participating in.

Also, the bake sale was incredibly successful and I appreciate the two of you who participated. We earned almost $10 off of stale moon pies and half a Twinkie we sold to some stoned teenager.

We'll be cooking up some further fund raisers. Possibly a carwash, but--despite all the suggestions--there will be no bikinis.

Oh for Jesus' sake. Stop cheering, assholes! That's not what I meant!