Just a quick note to the four or five people that read the crap I write. I have been busy working on scenicbrews.com as of late and a poorly thought out attempt at a book so ranting here is not foremost in my mind but I do mean to get back at it in the future. Feel free to check out the Adroit Alcoholic and other articles by me at www.scenicbrews.com.
So begins my rant on America and organized religion. I hope I can find cracks that have not already been filled by Bill Hicks and George Carlin, not that I am comparing myself to either of their genius but I also don't wish to plagiarize any ideas.
I am not religious, let's get that out of the way. I do not subscribe to any religion nor do I commit myself to any church. Actually, I don't even hold to a standard routine. I do believe this, life is an experience, make the most of it and try to have fun without being too much of an asshole. Life doesn't begin pretty and doesn't end well, so you may as well live it instead of sitting on the sidelines letting it live you. Now I understand that everyone lives their life the way they see fit, I get that but what is the driving factor in ninety nine point nines to almost infinity in human development? It is the fear of dieing. We all fear the end of our lives, some of us fear the pain some of us fear the lack of bowel control, some of us fear the unknown and what comes after. It is a very minute portion of humanity that does not fear death and I am sure those few do actually recant when the bomb goes off or the bullet rips through their ribs, it's just human nature, everybody poops and everybody fears death. I will go into my views of the fear of death another time but now I would like to write about a subsection of the fear of death; The fear of HELL!
I was not raised to believe in Hell so I grew up with a different view point than my many Lutheran and Catholic school mates. Even in Kindergarten I remember other kids warning me about Hell and all the unholy assforking therein. Of course that all seemed plausible when I was six years old as did a canine shoe shine boy that had secret super powers and a pic-a-nik basket stealing bear. All things seemed possible in those young, innocent days, I also started to fear Hell. This vial place of torment, where the evil people were jabbed with red hot pokers for eternity, yet they never calloused. I find that odd because I chop wood for fun actually and get callouses in about two days that take the whole Winter to go away, I guess spirits of the damned just heal faster. You don't suppose, after a few years of getting eviscerated, that Prometheus just started twiddling this fingers and telling that damned bird to finish eating so he could get some rest?
At the point that I slightly feared the thought of a Hell, I had to find out why people went there, apparently, you can go to Hell for absolutely everything, really. That is unless you repent, then you can do it all again, as long as the next Sunday, you repent, better yet, just give the church money. God must have money burning a hole in his pocket the way he spends it. Nothing your priest, pastor or parish needs more than a God given Mercedes Benz. Luckily God provides the faithful with their Rolex's, high end vehicles and way better than yours housing because, if they were actually purchased by the man of the cloth, using money that was meant for the church, that is probably some kind of sin; In which case, they'd go to Hell, unless they were really sorry. Case in point, the 1988 confession of Jimmy Swaggart after he was caught in flagrante delicto while getting his shmeckle shined by a local lady of the night (hooker not vampire). "I have sinned against you!" Jimmy cried and caterwauled into the three thousand TV stations that he appeared on. He was disgraced, sent down, reproved and then, brought back to his original status. Then, in 1991, he got caught with another hooker on his beanpole. Jimmy will not be going to Hell however, because he feels bad about his repeated offenses. Pat Robertson, a jackass of epic proportions, is also supposed to avoid Hell, even though he is a hate motivated fear jockey that tends to spit venom at anyone that isn't funding the 700 Club. Yes the Scotland hating, Chavez assassinating, Dover, PA. school district bashing, Haiti's earthquake was caused by a pact with the Devil-ing, asshat of such proportion that only Cecil B. Demille could get his ego into frame, is supposedly going to avoid Hell. So who will be going to Hell? Well from what I read, pretty much everyone. For purposes of making a long article shorter I will avoid Xibalba, Helvede, Olam Habah, Jack Burton and the Hell of the Horny Dragon and I will focus on Christian, especially Fundamentalist, Hell.
"I am all over pain, and I shall never be eased of it. I lie under exquisite torment of body, and horror of soul; and I shall feel it forever."
These are the words of john Wesley, co-founder of the Methodist movement, sounds like it Hell is pretty bad but just a little arousing too doesn't it? "Exquisite torment of body", yeah I'm nipped too, that is some horny stuff (devil pun). I have shared with many people, my thoughts on eternal torture, it's a pretty silly idea really. I suppose it is effective for the vast majority of people in this world, the ones who barely know what is going on around them, those people would have a hard time imagining what they would do if they went to a place like Hell. The horrible pain and torment, the wicked burning, that you would not be able to feel...here it comes... because your nerves died with your body! Drum roll me out Max I've proved thousands of years of religious doctrine to be missing the whole point. If you poke a guy in the back with a super heated branding iron, he will feel pain. Why? Because the human body is riddled with millions upon millions of nerves. These are the things that make us feel the pleasure and the pain in life. The wacky thing is that when you cack off your Earthly wiring, your nerves stay in the skin. There fore, if man has a soul as some speculate and said soul peels away from the body, all the physical pain receptors stay with the corpse. I am no expert on energy beings but I doubt that they feel pain. Yes, Captain Kirk and company did make several energy beings seem to be in pain but I will believe that was just science fiction until the day I make it with a hot alien chick; No waiting on boob three, boob three, no waiting.
The physical pain argument set aside then, we move to mental anguish. Some believe Hell is a place full of brain torture. The evil ones attack your soul using mind freakin'. This is a more realistic idea than physical torture, mostly because the average human mind is weak as a crippled kitten. Maybe the weak minded people with limited imagination, go to a place like Hell and just can't figure a way out. Actually in the "Apocryphal" Jesus travels to Hell to save souls from damnation. In the "Prose Edda", Hermod goes to Helheim to see if he can get his brother Balder released. Orpheus would have made it out of Hades with Euridice, if he didn't, in an almost Lot's wife kind of way, look back to make sure she was there. Alex Hergensheimer, traveled to Hell to save Marga. There are so many literary examples of someone not staying in Hell because they were forced too. Many of them far older than Christianity. These facts may anger some people but they are facts none the less, not the myths but the age of the myths.
To me the idea of Hell seems like the Easter Bunny, Santa Clause, the Boogie Man and Paul Verhoven, just stories made up to make children behave. It's a kind of brain washing that starts early and lasts until you die, maybe longer but I don't pretend to know that.
In Hell abiding religions, there is very few that tell you about children going to Hell, yes there is the Purgatory Horse crap which is a dogmatic belief and not mentioned in any bible I know of. It's just made up so people will pray more for souls of lost children. Innocence is just what it should be, innocent. do you really want to have deal with a higher power that treats children like they had a choice in dieing young or the way they were raise, misled or taught? That's just pathetic. How many children are in Hell? Zero. How many adults are there? All of them. Seriously, read the damned guidelines for going to Hell and going to Heaven. Even a castrated Sir Gallahad would be telling you Heaven is too hard to get to.
Lastly, Hell is at the core of our planet? If you believe this, you are no geologist, also the earth is flat, the Moon is cheese and you are super smart. By the way, why do some people believe doctrine created by people that used to cure diseases with leeches and bleeding and believed the Sun traveled around the Earth. These things have been debunked as silliness so come on, let's play catch up people. The big argument is that if there was no Hell, why would people be good? Look, you can have evil people that go to church every week and you can have good people that never set foot in a church. It is a matter of upbringing. You will find that most serial killers were raised in restrictive, religious, family environments. It's just in the profiles man, you can debate me but try and debate the F.B.I..
That is much of what I had to say on the topic of Hell, there is so much more but I will be amazed if you make it half way through this rambling. I welcome argument on what I have said as long as it isn't stupid bible thumping. No matter how much you have studied the bible you are still only guessing. That is a fact until you die and wake up somewhere else, or don't.
Next up I will go after religious hate speech in: Sectual Healing Part 2; religious Jackassery.
I had been sitting around waiting for something to write about but that wasn't working, so I went to the book store. The fortuitous part of popping on down to the compendium cache was that I happened to throw on the only relatively clean shirt that I found on the way to the door. This shirt just happened to be my Bad Religion t-shirt, the one with the red slash running through a crucifix. A wonderful shirt, red and white on black, a real comfortably beaten up shirt that matches all my outfits from shorts and flip flops to jeans and boots, that shirt works perfectly into my ensemble. Fast forward to me, standing in the checkout line, books in hand awaiting my turn to give away some money. In front of me is a couple, middle age, soft of belly and pale of flesh in the typical, non-labor worker, sort of way. The woman turns to look at me, I say hello, she looks at my shirt and her eyes widen. Her husband was also glancing back and his eyes widened a bit as well. The woman let out a huff of air, in obvious disapproval of something. Her husband quickly tightened his grip around her shoulders, trying to calm her down, it didn't work. "What do you suppose Jesus would say about that shirt?" the woman asked me, acid spitting from her lips. "I don't know but I doubt he would be a dick about it." I retorted. The woman's eyes lit with rage, her cheeks flushed with anger and her ass sagged with fat. In typical Minnesota fashion, she mumbled under her breath and looked away, glancing back now and then to see if I had changed my mind about my disdain for her particular brand of holier than thou-ism. I hadn't, she left. I purchased my books and headed to the local caffeinated beverage hut so that I may purchase one. I walked through the door, took my place in line and realized that I was being sneered at. Once again, a couple was in front of me and the woman didn't like my shirt. "What would Christ say about that shirt?", she asked me. "He would probably agree that crucifixes suck.", was my answer and I watched the woman huff in anger and then display some more passive aggressive traits, common among Minnesotans. Two run ins like this in such a short time span made me both gleeful and pensive. I was always a big fan of Mad Magazines "Snappy Answers to Stupid Questions section and any time these things fall into place for me, I am filled with joy. Yet, any time I am confronted by one of those, arrogant about their own stupidity, types I become very thoughtful. Mostly because I don't understand them. This is why I have decided to write several self catharsis posts that I may exercise the evil imps that all the recent stupidity in the world have placed in my head. I shall start with religion, then over to some politics, then maybe religion and politics , then, who knows? I hope you will come with me on this less than interesting trip through my unstable mind.
Coming soon: Sectual Healing.
I have had my ability to write molested by a four ton rhino with a sexual affliction towards anal cutting. Long story short, having a bit of a bad time. Will write in the future. Don't you all worry, I still hate everything. Later.
What the hell Seether, you South African crap rock rats, did you really have to go and remake Careless Whisper? Wasn't Wham doing this song enough? Apparently not. Maybe the 80's was cool in South Africa but here most people not currently sporting mullets, would tell you how hard it sucked and now you have to take one of the worst things about the 80's and shove it up the ass of our society (actually the appropriate placement for a Wham song, cover or original)! It is a sad state for me that, at work, I am forced to hear other peoples radios playing and I am inundated with popular music from all sides, so you jag-offs had to make it worse? Damn you! You could have at least pepped it up a bit, Limp Biscuit absolutely sucks but at least they perked Faith up a bit when they covered it and that became their only partially decent song. If anything, you bastards slowed your cover down. When I was growing up, my sister would listen to Wham, all day, all horrible day. In fact she had a crush on George Micheal, like so many young girls back in those days, not having any idea how far up the wrong tree they were barking.
So you remake this song and now it's getting radio play. The great masses of reality TV watching drones have deemed it good enough to be pop and you are making money off of someone else's crappy song that you have re-crapitalized (ya new word) on and...Damn it thoughts failing me, anger steeping blood like hot tea whistling out of my ears. God how I hate you Seether, you and your ilk. You DisturbNickleCreedish bands and the indistinguishable, interchangeable, irrelevant, insipid, inane, and lethargic bile you spill out on our already weak minded society makes my ire hard to control. I tell you, if looks could kill I may consider going to one of your concerts. If all these bands had any humanity left inside, they would go eat molten lead until the fart hot death and burn. Stupid song.
This is an open rant about some folk I don't really know, yet I truly hate. I ran afoul of this strange creature in a Super America while I was getting caffeinated beverage. Now, to get this little story you must accept the sad fact that the punk ideal is dead and has been since Malcolm Mclaren killed it by stuffing a fashion show down it's gullet in the early 70's. Any time after that in history, anyone who loudly shouted "I'm a punk rocker", or wore a very fabricated jacket with an Anarchy symbol, some safety pins and a Swastika with or without a big red line through it, was most likely just a kid caught up in a fashion trend. I myself was guilty of several such infractions as a youth. The sad fact of the whole "Punk" look is that for some it makes them feel like they are outsiders, dangerous and they believe they frighten other people. This was once true, however familiarity does breed contempt and people hardly notice such things anymore in most societies. I guess if you dressed up like a gutter punk and marched through a small Missouri community that was brimming over with Evangelical Christians, you may turn a head or two but in any large city, you are just another smelly asshole. Recently I had the misfortune to bump into a couple of guys at a convenience store near my work. Both of them were clad in outfits that looked more like uniforms than statements on their individuality. They also had taken their emo hair and used gel to make it look like they both had mohawks. When deuchebags do this, I suppose they think it looks tough but honestly, Rosario Dawson looked tough like that in Sin City, everyone else just looks like a retard that got a hold of a bottle of L.A. Looks unattended. One of them also wore an Obama button and an Anarchy symbol, which would have been hilarious if it wasn't so damn sad. These two walked around the store for a bit, obviously trying to attract attention, as if to say "Watch us, we might do bad things". Which is the opposite of what you do if you actually plan on doing something criminal in a Super America. These guys weren't young either, younger than me, yes but not teenagers whom you accept as idiots because you remember being that stupid once. Long story short. They bought a couple bags of some kinda nut and a four pack of RedBull, salt and caffeine being staples of the counter culture revolution, I suppose this was the most "Punk" thing they did but they actually paid for it so they lose points there. Then they went outside and got into a Lexus. Sad, stupid jagoffs.
Many years back, when I was in High School, (if you aren't supposed to experiment with drugs, why is it called High School?) I was dared to make a Christmas story dirty. So I told it in a suggestive way that made it seem very sick indeed, not that that foul holiday needed any help but it was fun at any rate. Now, many, many years later, I have had time to hone my pervy craft to the keenest of blades. In fact, my friends and I have set out on a several year mission to find the dirtiest phrases and place them into conversation in a humorous way. The effect is that this act renders the word less dirty and more humorous, to a few people at least. You will always have that one person that believes booger or fart are filthy words and would go into a coma if say, dog in a bathtub or rusty trombone were explained to them. I am no George Carlin but I feel that to master the the English language and the vast humor that lies within, you must understand the worst parts of it. Dirty words and phrases are a very important part of that and they are, as a group, the most unchanged yet evolved speech we have. One of the biggest problems I have had on stage in the past was the fact that I would say something, something that wasn't dirty or shocking to me and the audience would go numb for a bit. However, if given time, more than three lousy minute, I could turn them around and make them feel sick for laughing at my bad person thoughts. Sadly, in doing this, I found I was not educating people. I was being called a shock comic, I was being grouped with Howard Stern and his ilk. I was saddened by this in a rare showing of emotion. I told an audience that being funny wasn't funny anymore and I walked off stage for a few years. I hope to get back up there in the next couple of years, write some more stuff and give it another try. See if people can grow up and deal with my dementia. I think I am just writing this because last night my girlfriend told me she fully expected me to go insane some day. She thinks it's weird that I laugh uncontrollably at things in my head. My friend Marty gets it but I think he believes I lost my mind years ago. I just hope, one day, I find the connection in verbiage I am looking for. Dirty words are people too.
