WORD UP, YO.

"Uh...George--that's not a baby...wait--is that a STRAW you're holding?!"



Haloscan commenting and trackback have been added to this blog.

It was about fucking time.

You may now all leave comments without having to sign up with Blogger. I realize this was a great hurdle for many who wished to leave comments and did not want the hassle of creating a Blogger account. I should have done this ages ago.

The only drawback was that it effectively erased all previous comments--sorry, Dot!

Anyway...

My "big" site update keeps getting postponed, due to numerous issues; therefore I am making little updates, one bit at a time.

I hope to add a chatroom shortly, and afew more standard Blogwhore options.

Let me know what you think...hopefully, people will now post more often.

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NAKED BEFORE THE LORD

Amy Grant thanks the Lord for Satan...

"Baby, baby...just lay down on the altar..."

You know, as much as I hate her music, I sort of hope Amy Grant plays this festival--it would be the first Christian Rock fest I'd attend.

Amy is evil, you see. Some will question what goes on this guy's mind, to make him think of such a thing. I believe I know exactly what's on his mind. Isn't it clear?


Christian strippers? Flirty Fishing? Fishers Of Men? Even the Mormons are flipping out these days...but really, who didn't see it coming? When your entire faith is based on science fiction...who should be surprised when they start wrestling the Space Christ, just like Jacob, in a holodeck of the mind? And yet these deadbeats all but pull the strings...

Don't think for a minute that I'm just being a dick--there is power in the force of faith. An agenda is in motion--that's not just paranoia anymore. And should certain individuals get what they want, it will one day return to nip them in the ass.

But perhaps the tide is turning? Could it be?

Nah...they're just regrouping.

Why must the Devil have all the good music?

Because he owns the company.

Maybe he'll buy a senate seat next year...or at least score us some lawn tickets.

It should be quite a show.

Rock on...

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BOB JONES & THE TEMPLE OF DOOM

"BRAAAAAINNNSS!!!!" (or, "President Bush reaches out to the Black community...")

"The zealot may be outwardly motivated by the anticipation of a great reward at the other end--wealth, fame, eternal salvation--but the real recompense is probably the obsession itself. This is no less true for the religious fanatic than for the fanatical pianist or fanatical mountain climber. As a result of his (or her) infatuation, existence overflows with purpose. Ambiguity vanishes from the fanatic's worldview; a narcissistic sense of self-assurance displaces all doubt. A delicious rage quickens his pulse, fueled by the sins and shortcomings of lesser mortals, who are soiling the world wherever he looks. His perspective narrows until the last remnants of proportion are shed from his life. Through immoderation, he experiences something akin to rapture.

"Although the far territory of the extreme can exert an intoxicating pull on susceptible individuals of all bents, extremism seems to be especially prevalent among those inclined by temperament or upbringing toward religious pursuits. Faith is the very antithesis of reason, injudiciousness a crucial component of spiritual devotion. And when religious fanaticism supplants ratiocination, all bets are suddenly off. Anything can happen. Absolutely anything. Common sense is no match for the voice of God..."

--Jon Krakauer, Under The Banner Of Heaven: A Story Of Violent Faith


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NO HABLO CRISTIANO

For those who have followed my offshore exploits of late, I have made a new revelation: Mexicans just don't "get" King Diamond.

For those who don't know what I'm talking about...

I work in a kitchen filled with semi-legal immigrants who don't speak a lick of English. (I mean NONE.) They tend to sing while they prep and cook, though. So, if the radio is playing something in English, they will try to sing along to it anyway, even though they don't understand any of what they are singing. This has potential for abuse, of course.

Naturally, I began abusing it.

I began playing Danzig, Motorhead, Dio, etc. in the kitchen, and--as I suspected--they tried to sing along, even though they don't understand what they're singing. You haven't truly lived until you have heard a devoutly Catholic Mexican prep cook warbling "Snakes Of Christ" or "Seventh Son Of A Seventh Son" off-key.

I've been building them up to heavier and heavier things. I started with G N' R and Dio...moved up to Iron Maiden, Motorhead and Judas Priest...today I tried playing "Melissa" by Mercyful Fate.

The looks of bewilderment were priceless. The first time King Diamond hit his famous high notes...every potato in the joint ceased being peeled, and wild-eyed stares spread like herpes B across the room. I don't speak much Spanish...but I did pick out the words "loco" and "el diablo" from among the staff.

I'll try my luck with Slayer tomorrow.

I'll have them up to Emperor in no time...

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SPECIAL DISPENSATION

Happy, indeed...for at least ONE of them.

You know, I'm starting to think that ol' Brother Swaggart is beginning to lose it.

Consider this: The only thing more frightening than the above photo, is the title of his newest CD--released almost immediately after the above issue saw print. The title?

"Then JESUS Came..."

I'm not making that up.

Yeah...I know.

It's been an exciting week for Christendom, though; you can't blame them for being a little edgy. Afterall, George W. Bush nearly missed the Rapture. The problem, of course, is who will run the country once the Christian Right ascends to frickin' Heaven?

I'll tell you: The Log Cabin Republicans. Think about it--they'll be the only ones left! Really.

Clearly, the GOP has missed the boat by not organizing a more realistic Succession Plan once the Good Lord sucks 'em up into the sky.

Like a "thief in the night," indeed...

Whether it's Christians against Bush, or Bush against the Christians, or Christians against the Constitution, or even Christians against the Christians, one thing is for certain: there's a whole lotta glossolalia goin' on.

I believe it was Don Henley who said, "Freedom? That's just some people talkin'." Little did he know they spoke in tongues. But what would he know? He's just a lib'rul Satanist, anyway, right?

Don't be a pussy...real men repent!

But there is tragedy in the midst of excitement, I am afraid.

Today, I am forced to extend my condolences to the reverend Paul Crouch, Pat Robertson, and Jack Van Impe, who all experienced a grave loss this week with the passing of the Pope. Who will be the Antichrist, now? Well...even Karol (aka Pope John Paul II) had some suggestions.

(Well...maybe Pat will get over it--he has a campaign to run, you know.)

But really, who didn't see any of this coming? The writing was on the wall. Karol's days were coming to a close like a "special dispensation." (Sadly, The Onion seems to have taken down their uproarious "Aging Pope Just Blessing Everything In Sight" article).

But the Pope was more than an aging Polack in a funny hat. He was an influential world leader, with his blessed trembling fingers in many a political pie.

Given the nature of his final moments, I'm surprised no one has thought of this:

The Christian world should practice what it preaches. The Pope should have been kept alive indefinately on machines like Terri Schiavo. He would actually be alot more progressive--and hey, he's infallible, right?

Priest #1 to Coma-Pope:
"Your Holiness (kisses ring)...I'd like to stop molesting little boys. Can priests just fucking marry already?"

Coma-Pope to Priest: "AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH-WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHAAA."

Priest #2 to Coma-Pope: "Actually, Your Holiness (kisses ring), I rather like little boys. Is that cool, too?"

Coma-Pope to Priest: "AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH-WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHAAA."

Well...come to think of it, I guess it wouldn't change that much, afterall...

It's a shame about Schiavo, by the way--she had such a wonderful future in politics...

I'll also miss all those fundies running around with tape over their mouths. Whose feeding tube do I have to remove to get them to tape their mouths shut again? Because I'd love that. It was a trend that died too soon!

Mall-Fundie Holding Chick Tract: "MMMMMMMPHHH-MMRRRR-MMMMMMMPHH!"

Me: "What? You say Jesus never existed? Is that what you're trying to say?"

Mall-Fundie Frantically Nodding: "NNNNNNNNNNNRRRRRRRRRR-JJJZZSSSRRRZZZZ!"

Me: "Huh? Oh--I get it, you want me to burn this for you! (takes tract, lights it) No worries! Glad I could help!"

Mall-Fundie Waving And Fuming: "MMMMMMRRRRFFFFFKRRRRR-GGDDDMMMMM!"


Ahh...if only it were so easy.


So...who wants to take bets on Jerry?

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FALWELL? FALLS GREAT!

Let's keep religion in its place...


Poor, poor Jerry Falwell. It seems he's fallen ill.

Awwwwww...

I grew up around televangelists. It's a subject close to my withered heathen heart.

Inspired by the late great Hunter Thompson (RIP), I offer my condolences, and offer up this Eulogy to all:


FOR THE LOVE OF HATRED:
A Eulogy In Effigy Of God's Hater Of Sodomy.

He hates the sin, and hates the teletubbies even more.
He's God's angry Republican, and a mole for rightous goons.
He's a moralist, a pragmatist,
And quite possibly a terrorist;
A modern major general, and a righteous fucking bore.
He preached beneath the sun, while helping Rev. Moon.
He hates PTL and Swaggart for the Lord.
He hates them all for you and me.
He hates them out of love, you see.
He hates,
He hates,
He hates...
He especially hates buggery.
He rarely fed the poor. He never healed the sick.
His tirades ever-burning like the angel's flaming coal...
In the end, he's just afraid for his own asshole.
In the end, he was a righteous fucking dick.

Ashes to ashes...dust to dust.
Amen.

I suppose some of you will think I'm being too hard on the old bastard. Clearly, you are operating with skewed information. Hell, even other Christians don't like him. Some have even sworn he's "next to fall." Apparently, they were prophets, afterall.

I wish I could have seen this one myself. I might have won my Dead Pool bet.

Rock on. Peace out. Fuck off.

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