fuzzybluemonkeys: (highway)
Is a thing that I've been thinking about?

Like, what if the Second Coming already happened and we're up to the Sixth or maybe even Thirtieth Coming because we just keep killing the poor bastard?

So Jesus it just like completely and totally done, okay? Two thousand years and we're still just as shitty to each other as we've always been except now we live longer, so we have more time in which to be shitty.

So this time around, Jesus is just over it, he can't even work up the energy to be all, How dare you hate people in my name? How dare you kill people in my name?

So he decides to keep a low profile and winds up as an alcoholic (he's not even sure he remembers how to switch off the water into wine thing anymore). And he's basically a crazy homeless dude wandering around muttering to himself, The only sins I'll be dying for are my own, thankyouverymuch.
fuzzybluemonkeys: Anything you can geek, I can geek greater (geekery)
So, I've been reading Only Begotten Daughter by James Morrow, and it just occurred to me this morning how seasonally appropriate it is what with it being about Decomposing Zombie Jesus's half-sister (on the god side).
So far my favorite part is I wouldn't consider it a spoiler, but just in case. )
And I realize I probably shouldn't find that to be quite so, well... heartwarming, but I'm me, so I do.
fuzzybluemonkeys: fuzzy blue monkey (Default)
...And People Who Are Sensitive About Religion Are Advised To Run Away

The path my brain took to get to this point is bizarre and convoluted, but suffice it to say, I wound up thinking about consent as it relates to Mary being impregnated with the son of [a] Ggod. (And yes, I realize the bit where the bible has skanky gender issues is nothing new.)
I mean, you've got your Greek/Roman gods who just outright rape women, and I don't think anyone is trying to claim otherwise, but the whole Jesus thing does not involve God actually having sex with Mary. See, she's a virgin, so it can't be rape! But it's still skanky in a sexual harassment sort of way wherein the male boss (of the universe) is pressuring the female employee to have his baby. And then that's what led me to the Statutory Rape comparison because the power differential is just so epic. Mary saying, "Yeah, sure God, I'll have your baby," is the same as a 13-year-old claiming she consented to sex with a 50-year-old. And yeah, maybe that 13-year-old said, "Yes" and didn't say "No", but legally (and morally, I think-- though I'm a godless heathen, so I can't possibly have any morals, right?), the 13-year-old is not capable of consent because it's not informed consent. She couldn't possibly understand the implications/ramifications/consequences of what is happening (and the statutory rapist is taking advantage of that). And in the same way, Mary (who probably wasn't that much older than 13 given the age of the average bride back then, but that's a whole other truckload of issues because there was a general lack of female consent going on at the time) could not possibly conceive (pun not originally intended, but once I noticed it I totally left it in on purpose) of what it meant to agree to have God's kid. And I admit I'm not up on my bible, so was she even consulted? Or was it just "Hey, guess what? Miracle baby in your uterus!"? I vaguely recall something about an angel telling her what's what. Regardless, she could have said, "Yes, please" and it still wouldn't have been consent in the true sense of the word because no one can consent to have sex with be impregnated by an all-powerful, omnipotent entity by virtue of him/her/it being an all-powerful, omnipotent entity and the consentee/victim being... not that.
Anyway, her rape baby son grew up, died, and then came back as a zombie. Good times.

Dude.

Apr. 4th, 2010 10:56 am
fuzzybluemonkeys: Evil Hand (zombies)




I found this at CVS yesterday. Beat that, Zombie Jesus.
fuzzybluemonkeys: What big eyes you have, the kind of eyes that drive wolves mad (42)
to Zitner's Peanut Butter Eggs. They are thicker than a Reese's Peanut Butter Egg, the PB is creamier, and the chocolate is way higher quality. Also they come in packs of 9 (correction: I have a box of 9, but they come in packs of 24!) and I am eating one right now even though I just finished breakfast.
All of this is not to say that I would turn down a Reese's PB Egg because they're still yummy, and I think I like the flavor of their PB just a smidge better, but both are of the yum.
So, of course, they're both only available for Easter because Jesus died for your chocolate, and then came back as a zombie, so now he wants to eat you like you're made of chocolate because that's what zombies do.
But don't worry, the Easter Bunny has a rifle that shoots stale jelly beans, and he's an excellent shot.
fuzzybluemonkeys: fuzzy blue monkey (truth)
and I... don't care?
I mean, it's not like I'm dreading it all, I'm so old! And lookit all the wrinkles on my decrepit, aging, 24-year-old body! Ack! *cough* *hack*

Ahem.

It's more like I didn't entirely... notice it?
I mean, I decided to take off that day (and the day before it). And I decided that one of those days off I would go into Philly and see the King Tut exhibit (I do need to figure out the logistics of that in a fashion that is not "scramble at the last minute and wind up not going"). But I'm not thinking of it as a Birthday Trip, more like the Remember When I Was Obsessed With Dead People (Oh Yeah, I Still Am) Nostalgia Tour.

It's just not on my radar anymore. For that matter, most celebratey things aren't. I suppose I've never been particularly gung-ho about such things-- certainly not as into the holiday spirit as certain other people who plan their wardrobes around it. But I seem to recall actually liking Christmas and Easter and my Birthday. Thanksgiving seems to be the only one I perk up about nowadays, which I guess is at least partly due to the fact that as I've grown up I've discovered that I hate Jesus. Well, I don't hate him, but I don't think he existed so celebrating his birth and death and zombification and such seems sorta yucky. And I know it's all ripped off of Pagan holidays, anyway, but that just makes me bitter. It's hard to enjoy seasonal rituals when they've got Jesus germs all over them.

But that's not even what I'm talking about. I'm talking about my birthday that I haven't even started counting down 'til. I haven't made a birthday list, I haven't come up with a dinner for mom to make, or a dessert for myself to make.

It's just so eh.
And the fact that I feel like I ought to be excited and just can't seem to muster up some enthusiasm about it makes me feel worse.

Well, no more! It's my birthday and I'll cry if I want to! No.. wait.. that'd only be applicable if I were having a party, and besides the point is that I don't want to be all cry-y and depressed about it, 'cause it's my birthday. And I'm not an old fogey, and even if I were that wouldn't be something to be upset about. I am going to go to the Franklin Institute and I am going to have fun, and I will rock out to "Six Feet Under" by No Doubt, and it's a Thursday, so if nothing else, there's gonna be a new Supernatural with pretty boys to look at. Plus, having the day off is rarely objectionable. So there.

Easter

Apr. 12th, 2006 07:43 pm
fuzzybluemonkeys: fuzzy blue monkey (just me)
I know it's rude to mock other people's beliefs*, but the whole "he is arisen" thing makes me think, "Zombies are cool and all, but not in a 'hey, let's worship them' sort of way-- more of a 'let's quickly outrun their shambling, brain-eating undeadness' sort of way." Which leads to the image of decomposing zombie Jesus stumbling along all, "Braaaaaaains."

And, as always, they totally stole the holiday from the pagans.

* Not that that's ever stopped me before-- I think we could all use a little mocking now and then. Even Jesus. Especially Jesus. What good is it being Our Lord And Saviour if he hasn't got a sense of humour?

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