Chillin’ With The Man In Afghanistan (Part Two)
This is part two of my experience of hanging out with Jesus in Afghanistan. We left off in the middle of some mess hall dinner conversation:
- Rants: “Okay, so what’s your take on Easter and all?”
- Jesus: [inhales] “Disgusting!”
- Rants: “Wow, I never would have thought it.”
- Jesus: “No, this food… by Dad, how do you eat it?”
- Rants: “Uh, carefully, and with Tums. Why don’t you just miracle that shit better?”
- Jesus: “That’s showing off.”
- Rants: “Not if it’s me asking for it.”
- Jesus: “You’re pushing it. Anyway, Easter is fine with me I guess. I do really love those chocolate eggs with the yellow and white goo inside… At least you got the time of year right on that…” [sighs]
- Rants: “But? What is it? The commercialism?”
We carry our trays to the stack and dump our trash. I’m amazed Jesus ate the leathery… meat… and whatever it was with it. Once outside, he continued with the answer:
- Jesus: “You know when I left there was only one version of the word. Now I find so many. Why did they move the Sabbath to Sunday? Dad said the seventh day, right?”
- Rants: “That’s what it says, yeah.”
- Jesus: “I also don’t recall saying women couldn’t be priests… in fact I don’t recall saying anything about priests at all.”
- Rants: “Wow. I’d have such a case of the ass if I were you.”
- Jesus: “Thank Dad you’re not.”
- Rants: “Roger that.”
- Jesus: “It is frustrating, somewhat.”
- Rants: “Being you? Or the other thing?”
- Jesus: “No, there’s no goo-filled chocolate eggs here… and the whole ‘totally not what I intended’ thing.”
- Rants: “Ah. Well, what’s your take?”
- Jesus: “I was merely trying to clarify stuff. That and put a softer edge on the whole ‘God of vengeance’ thing.”
- Rants: “You mean it was all straight PR and advertising?”
- Jesus: “Mainly. It was not supposed to be all about me.”
- Rants: What the fuck? You mean the entire New Testament is nothing but a new ad campaign?
- Jesus: I wouldn’t describe it that way. Think of it as Religion 2.0…
- Rants: And you wonder why I don’t bother…
- Jesus: You’d be surprised at how much you do. Bother, that is.
- Rants: Dude. Stop it.
- Jesus: Look, none of us care. Call it a universal ordering function, God, god, physics, Zen, or … a stick. It’s all the same to us.
- Rants: Why do I feel like I’m about to be smited. Smitten. Smite-ified.
- Jesus: What, right here in front of all these good Afghan contract workers? Dad’s kind of past smiting folks. Too ostentatious.
- Rants: Did you just say that out loud?
- Jesus: Do you have people following what you say out loud?
- Rants: Are you a therapist now?
- Jesus: Do you need one?
- Rants: Yes, I have for the past fifteen years. What’s with the questions answering questions, Jesus?
- Jesus: What do you mean?
- Rants: FUCK!
- Jesus: Just messin’ with you, sorry.
- Rants: *sigh* Actually I do have people following things I say out loud…
That was all it took. The Man abruptly thanked me for the worst dining experience of his… existence… to include that dinner. I apologized, of course, but obviously I’m off the hook for that faux pax. He told me he wouldn’t need any further escort, and needed to investigate this blogging thing I’d mentioned.
No telling what happens next.