the bastard walks the walk my son. every goddam morning he does. that is unless it's over 95 degrees with 85 percent humidity in which case the bastard buses the bus. anyway, once in a while someone will shove a leaflet in his face and i will politely but gruffly tell them no thanks. i don't need a new cell phone from "celluar-mania", i don't need a brazilian wax and i am not interested in following the teachings of krishna or any deity with more than two arms. hell, the bastard is barely on terms with the two armed variety (but we're in talks at the moment, it's been a good year thus far). anyway, i get this leaflet shoved in my face as i pass the lirr station and i refuse but these folks are offering free coffee. as i approach the subway there is another "free coffee" station so, i take the leaflet offered to me andhere it is.
ONE WEEKEND ONLY.
SUNDAY! SUNDAY! SUNDAY!
TWO OUT OF THREE FALLS!
THE SON OF MAN GOES TOE TO TOE WITH THE EASTER BUNNY!
actually, i love stuff like this. you have to hand it to the christians. what better way to address the question of "how does one make the faith more relavent times where one's attention span grows shorter and shorter. whay not give out free coffee? why not give out free chewing gum? whay not give out free snacky cakes? why not drive a big ole semi down the highway lit up like christmas down the highway that says "jesus" down the sides? might as well get some impact on passers by before they get back into the next episode of survivor. maybe you need a reality show in which a bunch of christians are on a deserted island and whomever loses that week gets thrown into a pit of fire. who knows? by the way pope, you can have that last one. it's my gift to you after years of not showing up for church on sunday. i give you the first christian reality show. but, then again i don't really watch the fuel channel and those bastards are kind of clever.
...on more religious whatnot
about a month ago, i was stepping out after dinner on valentines day with the ladyfriend and she needs to get cash. this was somewhere near the flatiron building. i was coming from dinner and the ladyfriend needed to go to the atm and as we were leaving, i held the door for this punk rock couple. upon doing so, the bastard realizes that this couple was jay bakker and his wife amanda. now here's the part where you go, "hey shiteyes, who the hell is that?" well young jerkfaces it's like this. jay bakker is a preacher. his father is jim bakker and his mother is tammy faye bakker. ring any bells? no? ummmmm televangelists? ptl scandal? ahhhhhhh read a book ya frikking jerks. anyway jay, dropped out of high school after the ptl scandal and then did alot of drugs and then got straightened out and started his own church. he had a documentary on sundance and the bastard watched it. it was very good stuff. it's out on dvd about now. netflix the shit. it's good watching. anyway, i asked him if he was the jay in question and he said yes and then we had a little talk. he politely listened to my rants about organized religion (another post for another time) and he invited me down to his church in billieburg which oddly enough is on the other side of metropolitan avenue from me (way down metropolitan from me). i thanked him for the chat and was on my way. the bastard has always found religious figures to be interesting. mostly from a pop culture perspective. these people fascinate me. these are generally people who carry weight with a segment of the population and i find it interesting how they are in the public forum. jay was a very earnest approachable guy. who knows, the bastard might wanna get some church in him one of these days and he does his shit in a bar in williamsburg on sundays. who knows, getting a pint of brew might be a bad way to hear someone's take on the good book. maybe i might just get drunk and learn something.
—the bastard
1 comment:
sometimes i'll just take a pamphlet without even thinking and then two seconds later i'm like why did i do that. usually i just pretend i have lobster claws for hands and i can't grasp their paper.
Post a Comment