Jesus is a Dead Rebel Mammal

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”.

The Meditationist

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.

Seraphims and Cherubims

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….