Christ Emasculated

I wish I had two birthdays.

Never mind the other perks of starting your own religion, for nothing more than being a really good magician and dating a hooker. We can do without the tricks, pun intended. Hell, for a while there, I was dating a hooker to "save" her from her illicit lifestyle, and spent some time attempting to cure a blind man. But try as I may, nobody would believe I was any type of savior - except maybe a savior of crackwhores. So, in my efforts to get back on the track, I found a good many of the Christian folk like to imitate the antics of their icon, and go through all the trouble of being born again.

Unfortunately for Jesus, his trip down the memory hole was politely assisted by a spear and lots of tiny holes. While I have been known for grandiose gestures from time to time, I don't think my exit will be leave quite the same mark on human history. As much as I'd like to dupe billions of people into believing everything I say or write, I am a humble man. My expectations are not unreasonable, and I would be completely content if only half a million or so listened to my gospel.

But upon realizing it was already past noon, and I had yet to offer you anything on the altar of my blog today, I got to thinking about this Best Friday of all, when Christ took the fall for all of our wrongdoings. What an attention whore. Only a man whose father had been entirely absent, brought up by an adulteress and an ignorant sheepherder, could possibly have the sort of self-esteem required to resort to cheap street magic like this. And if a crowd of lepers isn't enough to fill that void left by improper parenting, why not go pro and piss off the Jews? From this perspective, the differences between this pagan martyr and myself are not so many:

• Abandoned by the biological father;
• Raised by a domineering mother who wouldn't tell the truth;
• Sought solace in simple work;
• Ran with the wrong crowd; and
• Killed ourselves to be better liked.

Christ, if I didn't know better, I'd think I should have been born a woman - at least that way I might have employed other means to get the approval of strange men. With a psychological profile like that, the only thing that separated Jesus Christ from the rabble was fast talk and a well-placed spear.