Why did that crazy guy Beethoven punch his pet chicken in the nose?
pun-ch line
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Because the chicken kept climbing up on his harpsichord and yelling, “Baaaaach, Bach-Bach-Bach……Bach, Bach…..Bach!”
A joke is the epigram on the death of a feeling…..Friedrich Nietzsche
If Jesus was the “Son of God”(which he wasn’t), he knowingly was on a suicide mission from his “Dad”, who, it stands to reason, was also a God(except that He doesn’t exist). And “Dad” knew about it(the suicide), because it was His idea–and that’s not nice.
Oh, but wait, Jesus wasn’t on a suicide mission after all, since he and “Dad” knew all along that he(Jesus, I know, this is hard to keep straight) would “be riseneth from the dead”, kick the Grim Reaper’s “sorry ass”, as it were. So it was not, in fact, suicide after all. He(Jesus) kept on going: somewhere.
They call it “Heaven”, I guess.
And the clincher is, that neither he nor “Dad” could do a damn thing about it, since, being both omniscient, neither could be omnipotent at the same time, since that is logically–as the Mexicans say–“eem-poh-see-blay”–no matter who one is and what realm one exists in.
Recap: “Dad” is God, a supernatural being, and therefore is everywhere-always-forever, but somehow He “sent” His only begotten Son Jesus, who is really just Himself divided up and in disguise, incognito(why He needed and how He was able to do that is anybody’s guess) to the Earth to “save” Mankind from His wrath–because He is “all loving” but apparently gets out-of-control angry and homicidal sometimes–and Jesus ends up getting “suicided” by Romans and He and “Dad” knew about it from the start, well it was just “Dad” doing the knowing since He hadn’t divided Himself up yet, and……don’t even get me started on the alleged, “Holy Spirit”……ok, let’s start over…
Box score: Mission Impossible.
But, kind reader, you may be breath a sigh of relief in realizing that there is no “Dad” and Jesus was just another bi-pedal mammal, a rebel bi-pedal mammal nonetheless, and I commend him for that. But he is a dead rebel mammal now, so I says, to Mankind: “get over it”.
How did the Raisin King economically destroy his competitors?
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currancy manipulation
A joke is the epigram on the death of a feeling…Friedrich Nietzsche
What did the “color blind” guy say @ NASCAR?
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“I don’t see race.”
A joke is the epigram on the death of a feeling…….Friedrich Nietzsche
So what did that famous German composer say to the bill collector at his doorstep?
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“I’m baroque right now, come Bach another time”…
A joke is the epigram on the death of a feeling….Friedrich Nietzsche
Hi. I am an atheist ‘meditationist’. Which means, I don’t follow the Hindu or Buddhist religions per say, though I know a few things about them–Shiva the Destroyer, mainly. I just meditate, which is an empirical technique, not a religion or philosophy. I live in the material world, I think for myself–well, not just for myself, nobody would be that stupid.
But I am interested in that thing they call “Nirvana” that the Buddhists like to talk about all the time(though I don’t normally talk about it)–and that’s why I meditate: to see if IT exists. Like a lot of things, I don’t expect to find out, but I do it anyway.
I don’t wear long flowing saffron dresses, or play the harmonium or sitar or tabla or that incredibly intoxicating bamboo “Maharaja” flute they have, or ride an elephant or try to shake petrified dust out of a clay urn, or chant and read Sanskrit, or shave my head or observe strict veganism(though I used to), or avoid profanity at all costs, or pontificate on the ‘meaning if Life’ all day long, or “send out positive energy”(which, like praying, is rather impossible), or try to talk to Krishna or Vishnu–well, I guess the latter is a Hindu guy anyway, so that wouldn’t work so well if one is a Buddhist.
They say Ganesha is an Elephant God that has a pet rat that “he” rides like “he” himself would normally be ridden, cowboy style sort of–in his own special way. And I am sure somebody somewhere, maybe in a cave, or in a long flowing saffron dress must know why. They’ve got to, we need an explanation! And it’s possible “he” was responsible for the Black Plague in Medieval Europe, but don’t tell Ganesha that, or you will most likely be henceforth walking everywhere and carrying heavy things with your own back. But, because of Ganesha, they have temples for rats–thousands of rats–in India. A lot of tourist money it it. A real live Hindu guy, who has a mint condition Audi I want to buy cheap, told me that–about the rat temples–and then I confirmed it on YouTube. Do what you gotta do, I guess…in the 21st century.
I find that meditation has many positive effects for me, maybe my brain works better–though I’m still somewhat of a moody SOB.
One time, I met Gurumayi. She is really good looking–and classy. I can’t say that it helped much, though I certainly enjoyed gazing into her deep brown, dreamy eyes. And I wouldn’t mind going out with her sometime–even though, judging by her rather bourgeois, elegant, and pricey wardrobe, I doubt that she’s a Communist. Maybe she’s too busy…what, with all them “sheeples” and such.
Recently a local Hindu guy opened up a sandwich shop just down the street: he calls it, “New Deli”.
(Ram) Das it.
Kareem
by ze
Kareem gots his tunes
keeps him goin’
Tol’ him I like his jacket
He said, “you already tol’ me dat”
I got that brass and copper
like a fist enhancer
He just laugh insane like
and back away slow and shaky
with some crazy in his eyes
Two sheriffs and a statey
was at his room the other day
with a K-9 in the backseat
just in case
Tried to talk him down
after he been shoutin’
“FUCK ‘EM ALL!”
at the stars all nite
Tol’ him about jazz
Herbie Hancock ‘Thrust’
He don’t give a shit
Mind blown rappin’ like a wifi junkie
Tupac and Assata
was the last ones worth a damn
He dead, the Fascist Pigs still want her back
Kareem don’t got no time to know ’bout all dat
I’m just another Whitey
so what the fuck should he care
He strut and dance like a drummer or somethin’
But ain’t nobody got time for that crap
I been writin’ like that mofo storm
outside my window
Kareem all up in solitary groanin’
“gots to ignore all whats the idiots say”
One day he gonna fall off
the edge of this goddamn mountain
and roll out on that hiway all naked
Like a deer in the headlights
of a dark shit storm
and that’ll be the end a dat
Me, I woulda hit bottom
but they ain’t no bottom
Kareem, he just gotta pack it in…
What do you call the Bill Collector in your head?
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invoice
A joke is the epigram on the death of a feeling….Friedrich Nietzsche
Or, “Saran Wrap Fans and Cherry Bumbs”…
Yes, and I always get so confused as to ‘seraphims’ and ‘cherubims'(try saying that one 3 times fast, wow, what a tongue twister). ‘Seraphims’ have, like, Saran Wrap for wings, right, and ‘cherubims’ are like super chubby li’l babies with curly white hair, I think–also, with the obligatory wings. They live in the clouds, or stand on top of them or something, which begs the question, “why do they need the wings”? But it’s good that they stay in the clouds, because I wouldn’t want one a them comin’ on down yonder har’ and taking my goddam pet angel’s JAWB! That would be far worse than an invasion of the alleged, onoz, ‘Alien Anchor Babies’!
It is said they they exist in a hierarchy with other angels of their stock and breed, but they themselves like to refer to it as their ‘Li’l ol’ Collective’. If I’m not mistaken, ‘Collective’ spend most or all of their time singing in a blissful choir and they perform(for free of charge of course since, like on Earth, nobody in the entire known Universe likes to pay for music) like at some Etheric Disco where they dance and dance some more , Euro-Techno style, and drink booze and laugh and partay and all in all have a ghey ol’ time, which is not to say they ARE ghey, no, not ghey at all! They are putting out some MP3 singles soon, to try and make some $ to support there insatiable booze habit. They make their ‘Big ol’ Daddy’ smile!
The reason they do so much singing is, well, they likey to sing, ALOT–and who wouldn’t(?)–AND, they haven’t much else to do as since they, and ‘Dad’, are omniscient, they therefore are not omnipotent: everything’s already happened. That’s why they basically have to ignore and/or deflect all the billions of telepathic text messages they receive from one planet earth every damn day–it can be pretty annoying when you are rehearsing…in the choir(I speculate that the reason they sing so much is to ameliorate the frustration they fell for not being able to intervene in the tragedy of human affairs). A few of them, the especially gifted and intelligent ones, also play these cra’y, twinkley toned string instruments called ‘harps’. How weird is that?
One day, ‘Dad’s’ fav seraphim accidentally got tangled up in her/his plastic wings and smothered her/himself to death and the entire choir almost lost it, SO SADFACE! 😦 And they say the rivers of tears raining down from their collective eyes pretty much flooded out the entire Noah’s Ark Theme Park in Southern Kentucky(USA)–and took out a bunch of tourists and their kids and PET DOGS! How could ‘Dad’ let this happen, who kills DOGS, for god’s sake?! But, as explained above, ‘Dad’ saw it coming but could do absolutely nothing to stop it(well, ‘Dad’, hasn’t stopped anything on earth for, like, EVAR!)
But those incredibly cute and normally cheerful li’l angels just kept keeping on, ‘soldiering’ thru the pain and loss–even though they have no evolved nervous system–and sang SO HARD for the longest time over there fallen angel buddy that they say, if you go out into the wee hours of the night, and close your eyes and listen with great intent, you can almost hear those ‘heavenly’ tones….
Clergy
by ze
Think…
JUST…THINK!
IF-it-ALL-is-a-LIE
and you could DIE
in a NY minute…
and God’s not out there or
IN here or anywhere to be found
Hidden so BAD so small
SO…not at all…
And the 1s, and the 10s, and the 100s
and the 1000s, and the millions of the Clergy
with everybody cheering
start diving, FLYING out from Ivory Castles
SPLASHING, CRASHING to moats down below
to the rivers, and out into the sea…
(they had the best property)
When a person wears a costume, in public
in private or cloistered all cra’y-like and be gettin’ paid
You best beware
hold tight your wallet
run RUN FAST as light
Thee DI-RECT other way…
They grabs your heart, your mind
and set up shop, take it over
and that’s the key
They want what’s all your worth
from now thru Sunday
to fulfill “Gawd’s
‘Eternal Prophecy'”
(a big fat lottery)
Ah, the music, the “DIVINE!” sweet music
Gregorian chants, and hymns, and gospel and
rockin’ rollin’ Jesus-on-a-scooter with singy singy
song SONG!
And Glory Hallelu’
Guitars and sitars and tom toms and bass and cymbals
and, and little tiny bells, “Duh-DIIING!”
Amazing Grace
up in yo’ face
(the slave owner’s song)
Eyes gleaming, tears streaming
cash registers cry out, “Cha-CHIIINNNG!”
TAX FREE!
Damn them Clergy, DAMN them ALL!
Them stupid, STUPID silly little bastard men
in flowing long dresses, they’s headin’ for
The Fall
They lie and cheat and steal and ‘heal’ and torture and kill
and war and grope and rape and sodomize(O’ Lawdy, don’t they just love that!)
and smile and PRAY and pontificate and surmise and see ‘bright shiny lights’ right before their squinty little eyes
and delude and threaten ‘666’, and cast that sorcerer’s spell…
Doncha KNOW they is the “BEST” of people, by Job!( just ask ’em)…
Thee BEST goddamn people in
dot dot dot
(wait for it)
Hell
So, when you see them coming, the Freak Show, the Clergy
take yo’ wife, yo’ hubby, yo’ chillin’s, yo’ boyfriend
yo’ yo’ yo’
“partner” and missy and sissy and bro’ bro’ and momma and papi
and aunty and grandpa and and…anybody and everybody at’all
you can get yo’ mofo hands on
(maybe, just maybe two by two)
THAT’S ‘XACTLY what you gonna DO
and climb that creaky stinking ramp to that insane surreal giant sage schooner
they call
The Ark for All Ages
(obtw, take some nice furry animals too…)
And set sail toward that infinite Sunrise Sea…
‘cross the clear-blue-sky-shining-shimmering
Follow that seagull
leave them dark clouds behind
with them bad ol’
Dumb Dead Clergy
(you know that’s where you gotta be…)
ze~robertinho 