Archive for March, 2008

The Story Of Easter (Repost)

Posted in religion with tags , , , , on March 22, 2008 by vagabondsaint

Because I don’t piss off enough people in my day-to-day activities, I bring to you: The Story Of Easter!

DISCLAIMER: if you cannot handle inaccuracy and speculation in the name of humour and attempting to prove a point, stop reading this right now. Otherwise, read on and have a good laugh or two before I make you think at the end.


The Story Of Easter

This story takes place in Biblical Times (you know. . .when all the Bible stuff happened, specifically in the first four books of the New Testament).

Jesus, discounting all religious affiliations so as not to offend anyone, was a kind and caring man with miraculous abilities. (By the way, Jesus was black. Get over it.) He used his abilities, his gift of parable invention, and his strong faith in his deity to heal the sick, bring back the occasional dead person, and turn a Long John Silver’s snack pack into something that would feed the masses. Jesus, no matter what your particular religion is, was a good man.

However, the Romans felt their ways were threatened by the acts of Jesus and his apostles (in much the same way that allowing homosexual marriage threatens heterosexual marriage – some things never change). Before judging the Romans too harshly, let us remember that this is merely the way they were brought up: their upbringing conditioned them to see new ideas as a threat rather than accepting or at least tolerating them. So, you see, they weren’t really responsible for what they did, no more than, say, your average drug-dealing pistol-carrying gang member.

The Romans, acting as only their mental conditioning would allow them to, bribed the apostle Judas Iscariot. Normally, Judas would not betray Jesus, but his status as an apostle had cost him much in terms of finances, and so, to support his family and friends, he sang like a castrati on crack to the Romans.

Jesus was caught, tried, and convicted in an unfair court of law (no Amnesty International or ACLU back then, folks). His sentence was crucifixtion, and he was forced to walk to the spot with the crossbar on his back (the uprights were left standing between uses; the Romans were a bit lazy). It was a long, arduous trip, and he stopped on his journey only to sign a copy of the Old Testament for Roman Senator Strom Thurmond (something else that never changed).

On that cross, Jesus died (as crucified people tend to do). By the way, if I was Jesus, and I came back to Earth and all my so-called “faithful” were wearing a small symbolic representation of the weapon used to kill me around their necks, I’d be pissed. That’d be automatic damnation, in my book. You all had better hope I’m not Jesus returned, or you’re all screwed, Christians. Anyway, Jesus died and was buried in an earthen tomb, with a big rock placed across the entrance. A big rock. That’s it. The Roman idea of security was to put a big rock in the way. Thank God only the soldiers were strong enough to move it, so no one would go steal or loot the corpses or anything. That’s what I want when I die: to be placed in a cave with a big rock in the entrance. That oughtta keep the animals and insects out. But that’s a tangent. Back to the story.

Jesus was buried there after his death. The occasion is called Good Friday, and honest to goodness, I have no idea why the occasion of the death/interment of our savior is called Good Friday. When the stock market fell, it wasn’t called “Pretty Nice Monday (or whatever day it was; it’s five o’clock in the bloody morning as I’m writing this).” Maybe it should be called “Tragic Friday” or “Bloody Friday” or “Roman Oh-shit-what-did-we-just-do Friday.”

Three days later, on that Sunday morning. . .hang on. If anyone out there can add three days to Friday and come up with Sunday, you are either using “new math” (which i like to call by my pet name, “wrong”) or you know more about the Biblical calendar than I do. Yeah, I went to a Baptist university, but if you think a private Baptist university is going to give you an even slightly unslanted view of the Bible or of the times contained within, you’re using new math again. Plus, I was trying to figure out if it’s possible to be non-white and still sleep with uptight Christian women. (Hint: yes.)

Three days later, on Sunday morning. . .the Big Rock of Prudential Insurance rolled away from the tomb, to the astonishment of many onlookers, including a CBS camera crew that was doing on-location filming for “Messiah Screwed Over: The Story Of Jesus Christ” (an eight-hour television event. . .check local listings for time and date).

And when the rock rolled away, there stood. . .The Easter Bunny, bright and furry and wondering who’d put that big bloody rock in the door of his den. After getting medieval on the soldiers who put the rock there (despite the fact that medieval times hadn’t happened yet), the Easter Bunny then gave candy to all the children (which their parents took and ate, thus helping all the local dentists pay for their new Lexus chariots) and hid eggs for them to find and eat or open the inedible eggs for toys and more candy.

Not all of them could tell the difference between the edible and inedible eggs, and that’s why we have an appendix: it’s the evolved remains of little cheap plastic eggs that all those kids ate on that first Easter.

And so, the Easter Bunny brought cheer, joy, laughter, and smiles to children of all ages: even the Christians who fought the lions (no, not the Detroit Lions, though they really would have stood a better chance against them as long as they didn’t actually have to go into the city of Detroit. . .then they would be better off with the real lions) smiled as they went to their deaths (final score: Lions – untold thousands, Christians – 2).

And everyone forgot about Jesus.

April 22, 2000

The 2007 MCVBSHOTY Award

Posted in comic books with tags , , , , , , , on March 17, 2008 by vagabondsaint

Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for. . .

The 2007 Marvel Comics Victimized Black SuperHero Of The Year Award!!!!

But before we name this year’s (2007) winner, let’s take a look back at last year’s winner: Black Goliath.

Oh, Black Goliath, you so totally died in vain.

Bill Foster, a.k.a. Black Goliath: became a victim of The Man in Civil War #4.

In brief: During Marvel’s Civil War event, superheroes split into two camps: hero-in-a-can Iron Man’s supporters of the Super Hero Registration Act (which required all superheroes to reveal their true identities to the US Federal Government, an organization known for its tight focus, lack of security leaks, and unwillingness to use personal information against people; those who didn’t register would be considered vigilantes and have warrants issued for their arrest) (you know, that’s happened to Batman like 6 times in the past decade. He just beats people up until they leave him alone again. Bunch of nancies in that Marvel Universe, I swear), and patriotic octogenarian Captain America’s group of rebels. Black Goliath sided with Captain America. In a desperate bid to bring the rebels back in line, Iron Man and Reed Richards (scientist supreme and stretchy leader of the Fantastic Four) built a clone of then-missing Norse thunder god Thor and sent it out to fight the rebels. This was a very bad move. . .for Black Goliath. BG grew big and tall and strong, and the clone shot him with a bolt of lightning. The clone killed BG, and afterwards? The clone got destroyed by Greek demigod Hercules; Reed Richards and Iron Man were convicted of manslaughter in the first degree and sent to prison for 10-15 years.

Oh, wait, that’s what should have happened.

The clone was in fact destroyed by Hercules, but for making the weapon that killed America’s tallest black superhero, Iron Man and Reed Richards got nothing. Slap on the wrist? Not a stern letter from the NAACP, not even a harsh look from Jesse Jackson. But the sacrifice of Black Goliath inspired Captain America to fight on until the rebels won and the SHRA was revoked.

Oh, wait. . .

3 issues after the death of Black Goliath, Captain America surrendered himself into federal custody after seeing numerous buildings get destroyed in a battle with Iron Man’s troops. Let me sum this up for you. Buildings get destroyed, Captain America quits. Building-sized black man gets killed, Captain America hardly notices. He didn’t even make an inspiring speech, and this is a man who made inspiring and patriotic speeches when people got busted for jaywalking. Or when he found a pair of shoes that fit. Or when he got his food from the McDonald’s drive-through and they got his order exactly right (which, honestly, is a pretty momentous occasion). (Hey, remember that federal government that wanted all the heroes to surrender their secret identities to them? That just happens to be the same federal government that let Captain America get shot and killed while in their custody. Bet that inspired people to trust them, eh?)

To be fair, when the real Thor came back, he beat the snot out of Iron Man in roughly three pages, but that was more for daring to make a clone of Thor than the fact that it killed Black Goliath.

Black Goliath: hero, afro-wearer, needless shock-value repercussion-free death.

So, that’s Black Goliath, winner of the 2006 MCVBSHOTY award.

And now, the 2007 Marvel Comics Victimized Black Superhero Of The Year:



Gauntlet, in less comatose times; kept down for good in Avengers: The Initiative #7.

Gauntlet and his mighty alien-tech arm, from which he took his powers and name, went from serving in the US military to becoming the drill instructor to a new class of heroes in the post-Civil War Initiative Program, which was designed to put a team of well-trained registered superheroes in each of the 50 states. Gauntlet was in charge of the California team (California doesn’t have enough heroes already?) and was merciless in training them.

And then, in Full Metal Jacket style, one of his trainees decided to take him out.

Which one of the young powerhouses under his command marshalled up their awesome power and unleashed that power in epic battle against Gauntlet, ultimately triumphing over his strong will and military training?



This guy. Seriously.

Fucking Slapstick, for God’s sake.

A military sergeant with super-powers gets taken down in a sneak attack by a guy with a stretchy cartoon body, a giant mallet, and no genitalia? What the fuck?

Gauntlet doesn’t die from the attack (I would have, out of pure embarrassment if nothing else) but instead goes into a coma, from which he is revived only long enough to completely fail to identify his attacker, and then he’s put back into his coma so the government can steal his gauntlet and give it to somebody else. Is there just no end to the indignities here? Why not go ahead and take pictures of him naked and comatose with various vegetables in various orifices? It wouldn’t be any more humiliating than what he’s already been through. What could make his beating and subsequent coma worse?

I’m glad you asked! Due to the government’s need to keep the Initiative program looking squeaky clean, the attack is hushed up and the true perpetrator is never found, i.e., Slapstick gets away with it. He tries to confess to his friends, but is always comically interrupted. Let me repeat that: Slapstick gets away with it.

The message here is clear. In the Marvel Comics Universe, beating and/or killing black superheroes can be done with impunity. Nothing will happen to you, and, if done in the proper circumstances, the government will help you cover it up. Seriously, Marvel, somebody needs to have a talk with Grand Dragon Quesada over there. No justice for Black Goliath, no justice for Gauntlet. . .what the hell is wrong with you people? This wouldn’t happen with any of DC’s prominent black heroes, like Black Lightning and. . .ummm. . .Vixen! Vixen and. . .ummm. . .ummmm. . .hmmmm. . .hang on, I know there’s another one. . .

Well anyway, that’s it for this year’s Marvel Comics Victimized Black Superhero Of The Year! Join us next year! Who will it be? Storm? Black Panther? Triathlon? Falcon? Triathlon? Triathlon? Please, Triathlon*?

Thanks for being here!

Now get out.


Get out.



* = Please, Triathlon? The lamest character of any colour in a long, long, long time? Please?

An Open Letter From God To Humanity

Posted in religion, Uncategorized with tags , , , on March 14, 2008 by vagabondsaint

Dear Pains In My Holy Ass,

What? You were expecting “Dear Precious Flock” or “Dear Beloved Children,” or something similar? Bugger that! You tail-less howler monkeys don’t deserve titles that good anymore.

I gave you people dominion over the earth and beasts in order to be caretakers, not to start acting the prick about it. Plus, I wanted to take a vacation. All that creating makes a God mighty tired. And now you’re busy destroying my planet, the one I made and entrusted to you, and arguing about whether or not you’re doing it when it’s plainly obvious that you are. Are you stupid? I sure as fuck didn’t make you to be stupid, so how did you end up stupid? You must have chosen to be stupid, and that really makes Me regret the whole “free will” thing.

I’m sorry if I seem a bit tense. It’s just, that, well, I seem to remember asking that you don’t kill each other, and look at you! You can’t kill each other fast enough! I said it in the Bible, I said it in the Koran, I said it in the Torah, I did everything but tattoo it on the insides of your eyelids: Thou shalt not kill. And you’re still killing each other! And have the Me-damn audacity to say you’re doing it in My name! My name! When I specifically and repeatedly said, “Hey, that whole ‘killing each other’ thing? Don’t fucking do it!” Man, it just pisses Me off. Let me say it again: Quit killing each other. More specifically, quit blaming Me for it when you do. I said not to, so if you go kill somebody that’s done nothing to you and isn’t actively threatening your existence, don’t even think about saying I told you to do it. It takes about ten seconds to do some research and find out that I actually told you the complete opposite. Let me say it one more time for clarification: Stop killing each other. Don’t make me get involved in the killing stuff. I can wipe out millions of you just by sticking My hand in the ocean, so if you want to see that happen, keep fucking up.

Speaking of unnecessary usage of my name, let me tell you this: I don’t care about sports. Not at all. Not in the slightest. So all those prayers doing sporting events not only waste My time, they also tie up the lines so that I can’t hear the prayers of people that are starving, sick, and/or dying. Thanks for being so bloody selfish that you think a victory for some purely-manmade sports team is even remotely as important to Me as tending to the people that have real faith in me and do not collectively comprise a shower of arseholes.

By the way, I also don’t care if two guys or two women want to get married. I know there’s stuff in the Bible against it, but, you know, those guys that wrote the Bible inserted their own prejudices and fears into My message, which really pissed Me off. Not a one of them made it to Heaven; instead, they get to burn eternally (or until I run out of propane and propane accessories) for the crime of diluting, changing, and in some cases outright lying about the messages I sent to humanity. Let me make this clearer: I don’t care if homosexuals marry. You shouldn’t either. It doesn’t affect your marriage, relationship, or children at all if two guys have rings on their fingers that symbolize their bond to each other. Once again, you willful morons are using My name to give your own ridiculous fears and phobias and hatreds some semblance of credibility, instead of showing your own insecurities for what they really are. I preached and dictated tolerance for others, even if they didn’t believe in me. I said it, Jesus said it (He’s doing fine, by the way, but He’s just as pissed as I am and doesn’t want to come back to see you people), Gandhi said it, Martin Luther King Jr. said it, Buddha said it, Confucious said it. . .what the fuck else do you need to understand this? It’s a simple concept! Be tolerant of others and treat them as you would be treated! It’s as simple as Thou shalt not kill. . .oh wait, you fucked that one up too.

A surprising number of you have asked me about Jerry Falwell and other big-name televangelists that have passed away. Let Me assure you that they are doing fine. By “doing fine,” I mean “burning in lakes of fire while being tortured, degraded, beaten, and violated by demons with bad tempers and sharp pitchforks.” There are many paths to Me, and none of them are wrong. . .unless, of course, you take the one that involves using My name to spread your own message of intolerance, hatred, and bigotry.

And people, don’t be afraid to think for yourselves. I gave you brains for a reason. Had I know you were going to use so little of them, I could have put in a chocolate storage space or a laser-light show or something cool.

I’m done. I’m tired of you people.

Your Almighty,

God/Goddess/The Universe/Nirvana/The Flying Spaghetti Monster

P.S. For all of you who keep wondering why I never seem to answer your prayers, I ask you to remember that “no” is, in fact, an answer.