Tag: thinking

the last temptation of christ-a film by martin Scorsese

A lot of people don’t know this about me, but between laughing hysterically at shit and cum jokes I obsess over the historicity a man named Jesus of Nazareth, aka our Lord and Savior.

I even read the New Testament in Koine Greek (it’s a lot easier than you think).

For the record, I’m not a “mythicist”-or those that believe Jesus was a myth that the Romans or later believers fabricated. That’s stupid. Modern archeology and scholarship affirm that Jesus almost certainly existed.

Sure, some of my opinions my be a little bit outside the mainstream. I tend to agree with John Dominic Crossan’s assessment that perhaps Jesus’s ministry needs to be viewed in light of Roman authority. The Roman’s notoriously ruled with an iron fist. Jesus, by contrast, appeared more as a pacifist that appealed to neighborly love. His “Kingdom of God”, which Jesus almost certainly believed was going to be on earth rather than in some supernatural realm, directly challenged Roman Rule. So in many ways, Jesus was more than just a religious figure-he was a political one (not that anyone distinguished between the two in those days). Could this be wrong? Sure. But I think this view is worth taking seriously.

When viewed in this light, Jesus’s message remains just as radical today as it was in the first century AD: it was a direct challenge to the violence of the era.

But another interesting perspective on early Christianity is how it provides insight into the nature of radical politics: it starts off as fringe then branches off into rivaling sects before becoming mainstream. Once it becomes mainstream, it becomes orthodox and therefore conservative-if not authoritarian-in nature.

I’ve always thought that this subject, the “real” Jesus, would make an excellent film.

Unfortunately no such film has been made.

So the next best thing is Martin Scorsese’s The Last Temptation of Christ, based on the novel by Nikos Kazantzakis.

Is it a perfect film? No. I can appreciate some of the modern characterizations of Jesus, the Apostles, Judas Iscariot, and so on. But Paul Schrader’s dialogue comes across as academic, which at times undermines the effectiveness of the story.

But Scorsese’s frenzied take on a familiar story is refreshing. Of course Peter Gabriel’s soundtrack might be one of the best in film history (a hill I’m willing to die on).

What I love most about this movie though is it’s influence on my favorite film franchise: the James Bond series.

“The fuck are you talking about?” you might ask.

Think I’m crazy? Well you’re right. But I’m also correct.

Watch the final act of The Last Temptation of Christ. Then go watch the final act of Casino Royale.

Coincidence? I think not.

writing sucks

You know what else I hate?

Time.

Whoever came up with the laws of the physics needs to pull their head out their ass. Between being a dad and full time alcoholic, I just don’t have time for anything!

But what would really help me is if some genius would invent something that could read my mind and write down what I think. I don’t give a damn about things called “ethics” or “privacy”. I just hate writing.

But anyways, I’m getting sidetracked with other projects that will hopefully see the light of day (probably won’t). So if you think I’ve been phoning it in lately, you ain’t seen nothing yet.

God bless 🙏

machismo

I always thought that collectively we had two choices: evolve to a Star Trek-like utopia where poverty, disease, prejudice, and war are eradicated—or take Ted Kaczynski’s advice and shun industrialized civilization altogether.

This middle ground that we’re hellbent on occupying is some bullshit though.

Heaven forbid if I call any of this out, however. Apparently my disdain for consumerism, narcissism, the eradication of public trust, and concern for unprecedented technological advancement on our psyche and relationships is no longer fashionable within Left/Right political framework.

It probably never was tbh

Where am I going with this?

Nowhere.

I’m as directionless as our collective consciousness.

The end

love at first sight

Some jackass was pounding on my door at 10:30 in the morning. I opened up and a man stuck out his hand.

“I’m Gay,” he said.

“Pardon?”

“Gayson Peters. I’m your new neighbor across the street.”

He was wearing an orange button up with khaki cargos and socks pulled all the way up to his knees.

“What do you want from me?” I asked. “Some money?”

“No. I’m inviting you to a barbecue that I’m having this afternoon.”

“Eh, I’m hungover,” I said. “Can’t make it”

“That’s okay, I’ll be serving free alcohol. Just come over and get drunk again.”

“I’ll see you this afternoon.”

I threw on a clean pair of pants (no underwear) and flipped my shirt inside out. I grabbed a bag of pretzels so that I didn’t look like a complete asshole for not bringing anything.

When I arrived, my new neighbor handed me a plate. “No thank you, Gayson,” I said, “I’m just here for the booze.”

“Please, call me Gay.”

I got really drunk. As I was hanging out in the backyard trying not to barf, a woman tapped me on the shoulder.

“Got a light sweetheart?” she asked.

I handed her my lighter. She was about 50 something. Blond hair. Definitely had a smoker’s voice.

“Have you known Gay for long?” she asked.

“Since this morning.”

“I’m his mom.”

“Excuse me,” I said.

I walked up to the hot tub and barfed my guts out. When I finished, I walked back to her.

“Sorry about that,” I said. “So you’re Gay’s mom. What’s that like?”

“He’s an asshole,” she replied. “Got any kids?”

“Probably.”

“How old are you?”

“I dunno. Somewhere between 28 and 74.”

She took one last drag from her cigarette then flicked it away. “Well this party is pretty lame,” she said. “Why don’t you come on over to my place and have some drinks? My name’s Lucinda.”

“Sure thing, Lucinda.”

Her apartment was a converted storage unit. It was littered with old Penthouse mags, newspapers, and an endless supply of glue. She stepped out of the shower and walked into the kitchen. In fact, the shower was in the kitchen.

“Sorry that my tits are flopping out,” Lucinda said. “I have no clean towels.”

“That’s okay. I haven’t had an erection in years. Too much prescription meds and internet pornography.”

She seemed to blow a sigh of relief. “Thank god,” she said. “I can’t have sex. Vag is all dried up.”

I poured a drink and raised a toast. “To my dead ass dick!” I said.

We sat down on the couch and I began flipping through the channels.

“Sorry,” Lucinda said. “But the only thing this TV picks up is Designing Women.”

I turned my head and looked deep into her eyes. “I love Designing Women,” I said.

There was some energy between us. We shared a moment.

When Major Dad came on, I had to take a shit. “Do you need any toilet paper?” she asked.

“Nope. Never used it.”

As I blew up the toilet behind paper thin walls, I though that I could spend the rest of my life with this woman.

“I clogged the toilet,” I said.

“Don’t worry about it. It ain’t going nowhere.”

I sat back down on the couch. As we laughed at Gerald McRaney’s shenanigans, I reached out to hold her hand. She rested her head on my shoulder. Then she let out the most disgusting fart.

“I need to change my underwear,” she said.

It was the happiest night of my life.

THE END

respect for Blippi

Anyone have a toddler?

So my wife got disturbed at the actor who plays Blippi, a YouTube character for kids.

“What? Did he do gay porn? Every guy has done gay porn (not me of course, I’ve never had sex),” I asked my wife.

“No. I don’t want to say. Just google it.”

So I did.

And I was glad I did. Because apparently the actor once played another character called “steezy grossman” where he made gross out videos. In one such video, he poops all over his friend.

“But it makes sense for him to poop on his friend,” I told my wife. “According to Wikipedia, the character was born as poop because his parents had anal sex. Don’t you understand art? Idiot.”

Apparently parents were pissed off about this. I don’t see what the problem is.

Has everyone forgotten about Jackass?

A dude goes into a hardware store and shits in a display toilet. It was hilarious. And if that dude started a children’s show on YouTube nowadays, no one would bat an eye!

I applaud Blippi (whatever the actor’s name). My son loves the guy. He’s got versatility.

He’s got skill, talent, a natural performer. None of us have the balls to do what he did (and does).

Freaky deaky Saturday iii: let’s get this over with

The unsatisfying conclusion to my worst short story

“I’m driving,” Susan said as she grabbed the keys to my Porsche (or Lamborghini, Ferrari, or whatever it is that I drive). “Wear something skimpy.”

Susan, in my body, made me wear a short skirt. No panties. (As a reminder, I am in Susan’s body)

Susan pounded a pint of whisky as she drove like a maniac. She reached over the console to feel up my skirt.

“Where did you last see this warlock?” she asked.

“It was down this dark and dingy back alley.”

So we parked in the alleyway. As I got out of the car, a homeless man came up to me. “Hey baby,” he said, “mind if I take that pooter for a spin?”

Susan pulled out a .45. “Back off buddy,” she said. “She’s with me.”

“Jesus! I was just asking about the car!” the homeless man replied. Then he went back to shitting in a piss-stained corner.

“How did you find my .45?” I asked Susan.

“It was already in my jacket pocket,” she replied. “What are you, some kind of psycho?”

The warlock was on the other side of the dumpster. He was schooling some kids on a game of knucklebones.

“Scram kids,” Susan said.

“Fuck off old man,” one of them replied. “Don’t make me cut you open!”

Susan once again pulled out the .45 and fired a round into the air. One of the kids pulled a straight razor and held it to my throat.

“Is that supposed to scare me?” the kid said.

“Yes,” Susan replied. She then lowered the pistol and fired a shot between his eyes.

As the kid’s body fell to the ground, the others ran off. Susan grabbed me by the arm and held me close.

“Did that turn you on?” she asked.

It did. But I said nothing.

“What’s the meaning of all this?” the warlock asked. “That kid owed me $20.”

“Put us back into our own bodies,” Susan said.

“What? Are you high?” he replied.

“You’re the warlock that cursed me yesterday when I hit you with my car,” I said. “Now I’m in her body and she’s in mine!”

“Warlock? Sweetheart, I’m just a dirty homeless man that lives behind a dumpster and grifts kids out of money.”

Susan and I look at each other. “Then why didn’t you take the money when I offered it to you?” I asked.

“I dunno. I was probably high on MDMA or something. I get hit by cars all the time!”

Susan began pounding the whiskey again. “Welp, this was a waste of time,” she said. “Oh well, let’s go.”

“What are we gonna do about this dead body?” I asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” the “warlock” said. “People die back here all the time. It’ll be fine.”

We got back in the car. The two of us sat in silence for a moment. “I guess we’re stuck in these bodies for the rest of our lives,” Susan said.

“I guess so.”

“Wanna go back to my place and fuck?”

“Sure,” I said. “But what’s with that gimp?”

THE END 🤷‍♂️

credo quia absurdum

While I was reading Sigmund Freud’s Civilization and its Discontents, I was introduced to the term credo quia absurdum, translated as “I believe because it is absurd.”

The phrase is usually attributed to Tertullian in reference to Christian belief.

However, I have said many times before that the mechanism of religious belief has been franchised out to other forms of belief, specifically in the political realm. This process is exacerbated by constant internet usage.

Naturally, this causes further consternation within civilization because we know intellectually that the internet isn’t real, but our relationship and understanding of the real world is constantly being shaped by it.

When this contradiction is pointed out, there’s an almost violent psychological reaction to it because it undermines our entire understanding of self and society. And to maintain this flawed understanding, we double down on our patently false assumptions.

Therefore this “credo quia absurdum” becomes the de facto mode of political/religious discourse.

THE END 🤷‍♂️