im stupid

I don’t always agree with Bart Ehrman.

He’s an excellent biblical scholar, but a little too conservative for my tastes as a historian. This occurred to me while I was watching him get ambushed by both Christians and atheists during a Zoom call.

If I’m correct in my understanding…and remember I’m a dumbass…then Ehrman’s argument regarding our access to the original intentions of the New Testament texts are completely lost. We cannot know what “Mark”, for example, originally wrote. Not only would this be true for all biblical texts, but virtually ALL ancient texts as well.

In my view, this is an extreme form of skepticism which throws our understanding of history out the window. The entire historical record would be in jeopardy, a point which Ehrman himself seemingly concedes (unless, of course, the record can be confirmed by other sources i.e. archeological, DNA, etc.)

I guess this sounds extreme-having to take the accuracy of ancient historical accounts basically on faith (especially when they sound plausible, but lack supporting evidence)-but what other option do we have until the facts prove otherwise?

I suppose this line of reasoning is how Ehrman can reconcile his certainty that Jesus existed with his extreme skepticism of the historical accuracy of the Gospels.

existential dread

“Your test results are positive,” the doctor said as he sat grimly behind his desk.

I took a deep breath. “What does this mean?” I asked.

“You’re perfectly healthy. Not a damn thing is wrong with you. You are going to live a very, VERY long life.”

I sighed.

“This is terrible news doc.”


playin the hits

“You got ass cancer,” the doctor said.

“How long do I got, doc?”

“It’s not terminal. We can remove the cancer here in my office.”

“What’s the procedure?”

“Just drop your pants and I’ll shove this device up your rectum.”

“You sure it’ll work?”

“Sure it will! I’m a real doctor.”

So I dropped my pants and spread my ass cheeks. Then a man walked in the room.

“Gentlemen, you need to leave,” the man said. “This is an AutoZone.”


If there’s a hell, it’s an AutoZone.

I was raising Cain up and down the aisles when an employee came up to me.

“Can I help you sir?”

“Look asshole,” I said. “I need a ball joint. Some spark plugs. Some sea foam. A battery. A rear view mirror. Two 15 inch rims. And no I will not wear a mask!”

“But sir, this is the Los Angeles Community Hospital.”