Our public discourse is essentially dead.  We are in the middle of a Presidential Election that we can only hope to pass through like a razor blade through a colon, a safety pin through the gut (below) to endure as though dumpster diving and latrine wading. 55,000 minutes, of which about 37,000 or so will be spent awake. We wish this national peristalsis to be over.

[PS:  Miraculously,sharps pass safely through the gut – do nothing and nothing bad will happen.  The neural axis of alimentation evolved a billion years before that of mentation.  It shows.]safetypin

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p style=”text-align:justify;”>Back to the American Political Process.  Let’s give three cheers for the Intelligentsia!  They are one wall of the National Litterbox & Playpen, keeping it Inside The Box.   It is enough that they sneer at Donald Trump (and a bit at Hillary Clinton as well.)  We do not discuss ideas in our Presidential campaigns.  We discuss the ridiculous failings of Mommy and/or Daddy, much like the gripes of pubescent teenagers.  They are being forced to endure something unreasonable, they say.  Comparing the whiners, at least the adolescents have a point, as they are disputing actual rules that disfavor their whims.  In the Presidential elections, there are no such rules.

One of the groups fawned-over by the American Intelligentsia is the tiny minority of Muslims who are political fanatics and jerks.  They serve the purposes of the Intelligentsia – not to advance the rights of people who may be oppressed, nor even of those who may be maltreated and bear the burden badly.  Since the purpose of the Intelligentsia is narcissism, they wish to be obnoxious themselves.  They wish to express contempt toward those whom they consider odious, surrogating the struggles of others, and the most righteous way to do so is to provoke the contempt of others.  But the Intelligentsia are rarely creative or brave enough to do anything to merit dislike.  They must adopt those who are despised by the hated majority, as they see it – infuriate the Tea Baggers, the Trumpistas, whomever is paying their salary, to be obnoxious.

I’m denouncing some jerks who are Muslim today.  But there is no need to give a pass to similar jerks who call themselves Christian. The Western Intelligentsia are not afraid to despise Christians.  But the Angel of Hypocrisy spareth no house. One at a time. 

charlie-hebdo-jesusCharlie Hebdo, the shot-up magazine in Paris, has been criticized and fatally so, for covers containing blasphemy and irreligious sarcasm.  It seems to offer egalitarian scorn annoying everyone. However, I wish to criticize Charlie for undue fastidiousness and prissiness, bad features for a satire magazine.  I will not, however, shoot up the magazine out of some deluded mission.  Fools have already been done, got the t-shirt.  U go Chuck, or in French, Je Suis Charlie.

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p style=”text-align:justify;”>The cover, “The True Story of Little Jesus,” is horribly sanitized, which is obvious to anyone who has attended at, or even been present at term vaginal delivery, especially for the delivery of women who are G1P0.  Labor is not tidy, and nobody looks happy.  The woman is miserable; the baby comes out looking dead.  That is the human way of birthing – it is.  It’s change very little since the Paleolithic, on the physical side.  Whatever improvements have come from intellectual advancements of what the standers-by need to do to assist.  Charlie’s cartoon is phony. Wussies. No episiotomies there.  No blood.

The heresy of Docetism has taken over Christianity – the queasy assertion that nobody’s God could come out somebody’s vagina.  Islam takes on the lesser heresy that God could not die; the prissy Victorian Christians, that no God could be human from the get-go.

Instead, the pretense is that all the experiences of this fellow Jesus were keen and swell and never a cloud in the sky.  He is clearly one of us – he belongs in an Archie comic.archjesu.

How that works is puzzling.  There was some need, clearly, for humans to be visited by Jesus; but no implication that Jesus got anything out of the deal, except for a grisly and terminal ass-whipping at the end.

Docetism separates the idea of Jesus from that of human misery.  In spite of his living with humans, he experienced no human suffering?  No humanity?

That is the sanitized Christianity which the Charlie cover mocks.  In comparative religion, there are many men who strive to become Gods, and do.  It is undignified that a God should strive to be like a human – what would that get Him?

We cheerfully dispose of one of the frustrating and embarrassing questions of Christianity in simply pretending there was a magic Cowboy Jesus riding through like Shane – came from nowhere, going nowhere.  If He looks too much like us, we get queasy.  No matter what He wishes, we forbid that.

We have a rather condescending attitude towards our Gods, as thought they are crushed and furious by human slights, endlessly asserting their vanity but impotent in their ability to remedy the offenses by humans.  That’s why we need to shoot up cartoon shops, we True Believers!

Genuine salvific Christian theology does not focus on humans at their Sunday Best, nor open the curtains upon the grateful or saved.  It is a much more human theology, attending to humans at their realest and messiest.  The Prodigal son’s brother plays a bit part.

And our political discourse ignores the power that we might have to help others, complaining instead about the poor show made by the President-Daddy or the God-Daddy in fixing our lives all up nice for us.  It is not a four-year opportunity; it is a four-year caterwaul.

So there.  Blow me up, you fundamentalists!

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