bibullshit

On the university's fb page our social media person asked the question,
Can you name one book that changed your life?

The comments contained lots of good books (The Picture of Dorian Gray, Sister Carrie, Lord of the Flies, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, Fahrenheit 451, The Brief, Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, etc.), some lame (Alchemist) and most predictably, many listed The Bible (often capitalized BIBLE, in case we missed their piety).

The Bible changed their lives? Liars! Fucking liars. Most of them wouldn't get through a book as convoluted and boring as the Bible without all the pious pressure. What they understand about the Bible is the predigested, completely bullshit version fed to them from the pulpit and vacation Bible school. The Bible itself is full of begats and incest and murder...which should make it somewhat interesting but in fact, does not. It's a poorly told story, choppy and inconsistent. Not to mention offensive and violent and anti-women and pro-slaves, etc. ad nauseum. The Bible changed your lives? Drone-brains.

back by popular demand: the easter menu

In response to my friend Martie's request and just in time for the holidays, here is the official reprint of my own...

Evolving Easter Menu

(recipes not included because creation is not a science...you just make it up!)

Breakfast
30 Silver-Dollar Pancakes
Holy Ghost Cinnamon Toast
and the ever popular:
Stigmata Frittata

Appetizer
Crucifix Chex Mix

Entrees
Son o' God Steamed Cod
with Apostle Pesto
Crucify Stir Fry
Chewed Rustic Carrots
in Stations of the Cross White Sauce
Crown o' Thorn Creamed Corn

Desserts
Magdalene Cherry Tarts
Resurrection Confection
Doubting Thomas Jelly Donuts
and, of course,
Divinity

Bonus pic! Years ago another wonderful friend, John Paul, invited us over for the resurrection festival. I said I'd bring an appropriate dessert. Yesterday I looked high and low for these photos. They seem to have been carried off by the dust creatures that squat in my closet. The whole exercise led to cleaning out that gulag–a task I never willingly undertake (and must trick myself by looking for something)–and tossing 85% of the shit I'd accumulated. So here is a reenactment of the brilliant Peeps Crucifix. (Unseen are the toothpicks used to impale the peeps to their styrofoam stations. That's right, kids out there in tv land, there were peep stigmatas all over the place. What good is a theme if you can't beat it to a marshmallowy pulp? Please take note of the Calvary-esque Easter grass.)

Bon Appetit to my friends, saved and damned alike.