Thursday, December 23, 2004

Mooning Jesus

RSJS writes:

“In Moon's teachings, God himself is shedding tears over mankind's obsession with the cross, which prevents us from recognizing the real "returning lord": Moon himself.”

It’s a strange and twisted world where the Reverend Sun Myung Moon is echoing Bill Hicks. Of course, Bill was a happy cigarette-totin’ atheist intent on pointing out the follies of Christianity between descriptions of innocent girl’s rectums and encouraging advertising execs to kill themselves. Moon Unit, however, is angling to get the crosses dumped, buried, binned or melted down to pave the way for the new messiah: him.

Now I think this is a BAD THING. Y’know how pancakes and maple syrup are a good thing? This isn’t that. This is somewhat far from pancakes with even sugar and lemon juice. This is like a dry pancake with a used tissue on it. I haven’t had breakfast yet, I might add. But despite hunger colouring my metaphors I’d still pass on the hanky and batter number. The point is, Moon buying himself the position of New and Improved Buddy Christ = Bad. But there is a solution to this megalomaniacal Moonie’s mission of messiah-dom:

Declare Bill hicks the second coming of Christ.

Okay, his cancerous corpse would spin like a log on a lathe at such a stunt but this is for the greater good: If Moon’s argument is that the flat-faced chap trying to remove the crosses from churches is the new Son of Sam… sorry, “God”, then fine, let him declare this from the rooftops: once he’s got the slack-jawed yokels in Unistat lined up and chanting the same doomed ditty, wheel out the idea of Bill Hicks. He thought crosses were hindering the second coming, too. AND HE DIED FOR OUR SINS. He keeled over still preaching Goat Boy’s gospel, after releasing an album called Revelations… all we need is to find his smirking, smoking visage in a taco shell and he’ll be slapped up on a stained-glass-window faster’n you can say “Jeebers”. He’s perfect. He’s white, just like the original Jesus (and unlike the scurrilous Moon). He’s a martyr, he hung out with hookers just like JC and performed miracles such as smoking packs of cigarettes a day and not dying of lung cancer. And I hear he walked on water, honest. I read it on the Internerd, it must be true.

So to prevent the Man in the Moon making his own little sweatshop paradise on earth, I say we must enthrone Bill Hicks as the new messiah and worship him accordingly. Save the world from the Moonies, start smoking and throw up your goats…

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