Scared Bunny

I considered not blogging today. You know, take the day off. But it’s midnight, everyone else is asleep, I can’t sleep yet myself. I can’t understand why but for some reason I can never sleep when I’m supposed to, but the rest of the time I could sleep at the drop of a hat. I’m sure that both of the people that still read this appreciate me not sleeping because that’s when I write.

I am glad I chose not to share my thoughts on Christmas. After everyone went to sleep I was just browsing to get some credits at Blog Explosion, and it seems that everyone that did blog had thoughts on the subject. Most were about what you expect. Pretty much you have those who love Christmas, those who hate Christmas and those who are so obsessed with politics they only mention Christmas as it is viewed on their side. But there was an exception.

One very brief post really fell in to the “I hate Christmas” camp, but his comments were very different. His day consisted of sleeping late, eating alone and watching TV. On TV he saw nothing but whores and sluts. I got the feeling he watched one of the MTV channels, but I can’t prove that. His plan was to then go clubbing where he could spend the rest of the night with, you guessed it, whores and sluts. I will give him credit for acknowledging he was a slut himself. (I always support self-awareness.) It was also nice to see someone who didn’t wallow in their anger. Instead he just made his attitude clear, and accepted his place in life.

Now, I have an only slightly related observation. When a professor is speaking on camera for a documentary about the history of Christmas, he should try to ensure the blackboard behind him doesn’t say “Arbeit macht frei”.

That reminds me of something else. This morning when I woke up it was still hours before my son would be here, so really Christmas wasn’t starting. There also wasn’t a football game until 4pm. With my parents here, that meant trying to find something we could do that wouldn’t offend them or bore me. This is much harder than it sounds. They are very easily offended, and, to be honest, we only kind of succeeded.

This dilemma actually began last night. The solution was a History Channel piece on Jesus. It was one of those things where they talked about finding sites Jesus would have visited. Of course my cynical side pointed out that it’s hard to say for sure where Jesus was born, where he was buried, where he learned to ride his bike or where he learned to bowl. Luckily for me my parents also hate self-appointed experts, so they agreed with me.

Today we had the missing years of Jesus. Those guys had Jesus going to England, India and I am sure Las Vegas. So the question was obvious: how do you know for sure? All they deal with is legend. Just because some dude wrote it down a long time ago doesn’t mean it happened. Just imagine what someone 2,000 years from now would think after reading my blog. You have a cult, plural marriage, lots of booze and strippers and every woman mentioned is insane.

But I have come to a conclusion about how they might know where Jesus went. We know Jesus spent time with the lowlifes. I bet that started as a kid. So I think Jesus probably hung with gang members. In fact, that could be where the idea for the disciples came from. Disciples isn’t really too shabby for a gang name. Maybe it was 12th Street Disciples, and it’s just gotten confused over the years. Anyway, as a gang member Jesus learned about tagging. The reason they know where all he went as a youth is that he threw up his tag. I believe he probably went by J-Dawg.

I think Jesus really liked tagging and kept it up as an adult. That’s how they know they have found the house Peter owned (where they claim the Disciples were based) and the boat they fished from. J-Dawg probably threw up some tags on the shit so people would know it was his turf.

It’s also possible the crucifixion wads all over a turf war and the Pharisees weren’t really religious dudes at all. They may have been just a major Jerusalem gang that got pissed that these upstarts from Galilee were trying to move in.

Makes as much sense as anything the PhDs had to say, and you didn’t have to go to college to get the info. You can thank me later.