Careful, They Might Be Watching You Read This

 

Dance! Dance for me, America! And give me your plump little boys!

Just because I’m paranoid doesn’t mean the Vatican isn’t conducting a clumsy shadow war against the United States. Seriously, judging by the color coded yarn connecting newspaper articles across my bedroom walls, there have been a few too many kooky coincidences for my overactive imagination to simply dismiss like so much Costa Rican hooker.

Just just just just look. Look at this news from Kansas, where Republicans are advancing a bill that would legalize discrimination and bullying of homosexuals in that state, so long as it is done for religious reasons. But that isn’t really the news, is it? Republicans have been playing chicken with blatantly medieval laws since Obama took office, kind of playing keep-away with the Bill of Rights. That’s just the cover story, the part to keep your impotent moral outrage diverted from the puppeteers:

“…one of the sponsors of this bill is the Kansas Catholic Conference.” (Addicting Info)

I was never familiarized with the semantics of passing bills, but sponsoring? Like a pizza joint sponsors a pee-wee soccer team? Do they get to just slap a crucifix right on the law so that everyone who reads it starts watering at the mouth for Christ? Or are they just signing their names to the preliminary paperwork to go ahead and influence policy directly, without paying us?

The church would like you to know that they are only sponsoring those sexy tight pants.

Whatever. If you think this is an isolated incident, you have been playing right into the hands of the MAN. You’re blind, man, you’re bliiiiind. Check out Arizona, where a law was just defeated that would have made contraception harder to get for working women, and would have severely violated their privacy in that very personal regard. Dance, lonely goatherd, dance!

The Republican-sponsored bill is supported by social conservatives and Roman Catholic bishops who say it protects the religious freedom of all employers by allowing them to use the opt-out privilege now extended only to religious entities. (Slate)

There they are again! The Catholics have enjoyed enormous imput on so many laws affecting the lives of so many Americans, I doubt if most of you even notice. In fact, if you dig, if you really dig, the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops have been behind at least 28 specific passed and unpassed laws, just in the 112th Congress, as well as innumerable general legislative issues they choose to meddle with.

And if they’re not sponsoring, they’re desponsoring. A couple of years back, Washington was deciding on its gay marriage policy. If it passed, The Catholic Church made it very clear that they would personally let hundreds of homeless people starve to death. Not the most valuable hostages. This country really responds to little blond girls in danger, but the strategy did prove rather effective, after all.

28 laws. That’s not including other Catholic organizations at the state level, not to mention other religious denominations and cults. At what point is that number high enough to constitute a covert invasion? The Vatican is a state unto itself, don’t forget. If the Russians had this many spies in such high places, we’d start executing Jews and MSNBC pundits, just to feel like we were doing something productive.

Dah, boinking is for babies, comrade.

Don’t even think about comparing my completely sober warnings of total Papist takeover to the hubbub over JFK when he ran. That was a whole different conspiracy in which people were trying to keep a walking erection out of the highest office in the land, just so he wouldn’t hand the keys to the red button over to whatever celebrity hooker won the Easter Sunday blowjob contest. A noble purpose, indeed, but at least JFK was a Democrat that wouldn’t consider allowing church to incur any farther on state than it already had. Shit, would Kennedy have even considered outlawing contraception, as Rick Santorum has expressed gleeful interest in attempting? A whole drawer in JFK’s Oval Office desk was devoted to Trojan storage. That is not the profile of a man that would make any woman have a baby if she didn’t want to.

Just because the suspicion of the takeover of Roman Popery fell flat fifty years ago, doesn’t mean it isn’t a valid concern now. Now, with a conservative Catholic supported by the bulk of the American Religious Right doing far too well in the polls for those who have ever picked up a history book. Now, when a sponsorship from a religious organization actually bolsters a bill’s chance of passing. Now, when the blind, 300 year-old acolytes that live in ancient cellars beneath the Vatican are preparing to open the huge iron gates and let the thirteen Horrumods out to lay waste to sinful cities like Chicago and San Francisssssssco.

If you, like me, are concerned about the conspiracies happening all around us – or if you understand the psychological effect of talking in an erratic, paranoid way, and how useful a tool it can be – don’t wait! Head over to Unemployed Geniuses, where they are advertising some very attractive Glenn Beck survival kits, and long, spirit draining videos with circular logic. You’re right, guys. It is pretty satisfying.

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Exposition at the Hideout

Pastor Lanza's basement, where "mock" kidnappings and "fake" rapes get that authentic touch you hear so much about.

Phew. Ok, looks like we’re going to get away with this, guys. We just need to keep our stories straight. Here’s the official story the press is going with:

Church fakes teens’ kidnapping using real gun

A southeasternPennsylvania church subjected members of a youth group to a mock kidnapping and interrogations without telling them it was staged,[in order to prepare them for future missionary work abroad]. (MSNBC)

Exactly. A “mock” kidnapping. It was “staged.” “Fake.” As long as the national media says it wasn’t real, even though we were using a real gun, and even though neither parents nor children were informed of it beforehand, everyone will just go with it. Who came up with that idea about “liberal media?” That was genius. Even MSNBC won’t publicly recognize a spade for a spade.

My wife holds them down while I hold a lit bic close enough to their eyelashes for them to smell the burning love of Christ.

Look, we’ve done this twice before, and had no problem. The only reason anyone even knows that an off duty cop and a retired Army captain kidnapped a bunch of pre-teens is because that one stupid bitch is pissed we held her little girl at real gunpoint with a bag over her head. What is the power of one indignant twat against Jesus in this country? No sweat, give it a week, and this issue will be goner than a barren woman’s husband.

“They pulled my chair out from underneath me, and then they told me to get on the ground,” she told the station. “I had my hands behind my back. They said, ‘Just do as I say, and you won’t be hurt… They heard me crying,” the girl said. “Why not right then and there tell us it was a joke, when you see me crying?”

That… might be damaging. We should have cut her tongue out when she started crying. Ah, but then we’d have to go all Titus Andronicus on her because her stupid parents taught her how to read and write, and that damned AIM taught them all to type semi-legibly. Why must it always be an uphill battle? Pastor, we’re going to need you to sling some more spin.

The pastor, John Lanza, said Friday there have been emails of support from other students at the church… “If anyone was ever uncomfortable, they would be removed” from the exercise, Lanza said, though part of the idea was to shock the students with the experience.

Perfect! This guy is so money when he’s had a couple whiskey sours.

Everything was perfectly safe! If this little girl was uncomfortable, all she had to do was express discomfort. What, crying counts? These fucking thirteen year-old girls cry at the drop of a hat. We see it all the time. “Wah wah, my boyfriend kissed Jessica Constantino! Sob sob, I have my period and I haven’t gotten used to having cramps yet! Boo hoo, the popular girls yank on my premature pubic hair in the locker room whenever I bend over!” It’s a natural state of being for these broads.

DON'T EVER WATCH THIS MOVIE!!!! (It's called The Girl Next Door, based on a book by Jack "Sick Fuck" Ketchum)

Boo hoo! I'm tied up in a strange, bare basement by ex cops!

The truth is, this has nothing to do with training pre-teens for missionary work. You know that, and I know that. I don’t believe they bought it, though, right? Outside of the few publicized cases, this kind of violence is usually directed within local communities overseas. And anyway, it doesn’t even make sense to subject kids to this kind of preparation; they won’t even be eligible to go out and witness abroad for another five or six years. We could just do this when they become adults. But really, where’s the fun in that?

If we really wanted to train these kids for missionary work, we would be constantly slamming doors in their faces. Big doors, green doors, wooden doors, doggie doors. Because that’s what they’re going to be getting most often as a missionary. No, this is about, pure, unadulterated, God-given sadism.

Listen, it was a wicked blast when we gave graphic, x-rated descriptions of Hell and Revelation, and they pissed their pants, and ate their vegetables for Jesus. We all high-fived when we got permission slips signed by parents to let us beat their kids in schools in the south. It was fun when we upped the ante and designed elaborate haunted tours and plays called Hell Houses to give the kids nightmares, and psychologically suppress any kind of personhood they might think to express when they hit puberty. Oh! Oh! And when we got people around the world to send us millions of dollars so that Mother Teresa could flick her bean watching poor kids die of AIDS? Classic!

But that shit is getting staler than Karen Santorum’s twat. Kids these days are even getting used to being raped, like the veteran prison nerd whose calamari resembles Mike Tyson’s Flesh Light, and whose jumpsuit has been tailored into a too-short orange cheerleader skirt. Like any hobby, gleefully terrifying and torturing little kids requires a steep grade of challenge, and therefore overall fulfillment.

I will never see one of these vans again without imagining a bunch of terrified little girls tied up on the floorboards in the back. But you go ahead.

We’re not barbarians. The parts of science we do accept tell us about psychology, and nerve location, and how you can use that information to temporarily cripple a six year old girl. There are other ways to torture children than to saw off their clitorises with blunt stones. Ways that the media will portray as, while perhaps a tad extreme, totally un-prosecutable, criminally. Ways with a little finesse, with plots that stink of good old world craftsmanship and a hint of modern Sharper Image ingenuity. You know, like how if you shop at Sharper Image, you’re still drinking the same old wine, but shit, did you just open that bottle with magnets? Speaking of which, for a plethora of ideas on how to torture children using only magnets (no external bruising!), visit somewhere else.

OK, let’s adjourn and hit that press conference. What are we going to say, pastor?

Lanza said he “would love to” apologize to the girl and her mother but feels he can’t until the police investigation is done. He said the church wants to keep doing the program but would make changes. “I would find a way that we could continue to keep the shock value,” he said, “but I would find a way to inform the parents (beforehand).”

Are you sure you’ve never been a politician, sir? It’s genius! Appear willing to take responsibility at some future, nebulous date, and then double down and suggest your own punishment: take some time out of your busy schedule to tone the whole operation down a bit, and get parents’ permission to bless their kids with surprise torture. When you suggest your own penalty, it keeps peoples’ minds off of sending you to federal cum-dumpster prison where you belong. You had a religious reason to do it, nobody is even thinking about arresting you. Man, but we have some great child abuse PR.

Suck it, NAMBLA.

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Thank God That’s Over

(Oh, no! He caught the Bono Disease down there. That is the face of abject suffering.)

“Gosh, wasn’t the situation in the Chilean mines such a tragedy? I mean it was so tragic, you know? God, they were in my prayers and my Facebook status, one hundred and ten per cent. Really, I just thank GAWD they’re alright.”

Originally posted October, 2010

Wear a fucking rubber bracelet. Jeezus. I’m glad the miners are safe so I can stop listening to people be so fucking fake about it. I’ve never seen more Americans take credit for something they had nothing to do with in my life. Like it was Katie from Long Island’s prayers that rescued the trapped miners and not, you know, the people that got them out. And the Facebook statuses! “21 of 23 miners are out!” Thanks? We all have basic cable, we could know that if we cared. You act like you were personally Rapunzeling them up with a ladder made of your own pubic hair. Thanks for the societal contribution, Mary, get back to your Farmville. NASA can take it from here.

In its most devious trick yet, FOX News pissed me off more than usual by showing nothing else while the miners were being rescued. As if they might not make it out if the cameras weren’t catching every breathtaking moment of… people milling around. How am I supposed to bitch and whine about every word you say if you don’t say anything, FOX News? I hate you so much, FOX News.

Seriously, though? This was the emergency we’re all going to rally around and trend on Twitter? There are genocides and clitorectomies in Africa, pregnant women are being fucking stoned in the Middle East! People are getting stoned and paying for sex legally in Amsterdam, and we can’t! Mining is dangerous, that’s why poor people have to do it. If we gave a shit about them, we’d make it less dangerous, but we don’t. Pretending to give a shit about 30+ South Americans after the fact, at a convenient time so that your white guilt can be alleviated in time for the holidays, is why the rest of the world thinks we’re pieces of shit. You couldn’t locate Chile on a map, and you pronounce it like ‘chili,’ but you bought the bumper sticker because this is the safe, human interest, PG tragedy the media helped you latch onto like a malnourished newborn to a tit. I’m pretty sure if a miner can climb out and start parading around like a showboating idiot, after two months of having entertainment, food, cigarettes, and musical instruments piped down there like they were a fucking band of Bruce Waynes in a bat cave, life wasn’t exactly hell down there. So give it a rest.

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Fresh, Fit, and Fart Meal

I would hate to be this stupid bitch’s toilet come tomorrow morning…

(credit where it’s due)

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Check Out This Scumbag

(That is a picture of Elvis on his shirt. He wants there to be no doubt: He is Vain Elvis.)

Where? Ellis Island, the premiere locals casino of Las Vegas. The playing floor is roughly the size of your living room. The dealers are ornery and underfed. The steaks in the restaurant are still four bucks and loaded with more salt than Shamu’s twat, the price and the product both survivors from 1970. A thin haze of cigarette smoke and regret hangs over the whole establishment like a ghost from A Christmas Carol 2: La Vida Perdio. Still the unassuming lounge in the back is packed to capacity nightly, because of a little equalizer they call “karaoke,” and a short menu of microbrews that put the national standard to shame.

Who’s This Scumbag? The last of the great Elvis impersonators, I guess. Vegas has eschewed all that goofy Elvis and mafia crap years ago, instead favoring the classier Paris Hilton disease exchange pool party at Wet Republic, or Zowie Bowie’s “I Always Thought He Was a Chick Bash.” But this scumbag has hung desperately from the dream like a 65 year-old motivational kitten, dutifully glopping on the pompadour and five-dollar Fremont gift shop sunglasses (not to mention a sweat-shirt with a screening of the king, an homage to early-90s drugstore Halloween costumes, I imagine) day in and day out, though literally nobody has asked him to do it. He certainly isn’t paid to do it, except in condescending smiles, because here’s the best part: he has never even heard an Elvis Presley song in his life. I swear to Christ, we have been hanging at the Ellis Island karaoke lounge for well over a year, and whether its Thirsty Thursday or Mind Your Business Monday, this guy is never not there, going all Saw IV over one or another of Presley’s beloved rockabilly standards. Sick days are literally for pussies, if this guy sets any kind of example.

More interested in performing some kind of mechanical, cyborg version of the King’s patented hip thrusts, arm jabs, and skull seizures (I don’t know, that might be an original, I never got to ask him), this guy totally forgot to listen to any of Elvis’ music. I am also convinced he does not get the idea of karaoke, at all. The words are on the screen, dude, and the rhythm is semi-denoted by the changing of the colored words. It’s a tough concept, but it should be enough to keep you from racing full tilt through your 320th rendition of “Jailhouse Rock” at 3x the appropriate speed, and maybe help you remember a few of the words. If you suck at karaoke, we at SBS do not judge. That’s the culture of entertaining mockery the Japanese built into their wonderfully cruel national pastime. If you suck at karaoke after singing the same four songs every day for over a year, you make the scumbag wall. Congrats, bro.

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Success!

Two ministers and a mayor, smiling maniacally over a big red button that will reduce a major metropolitan block to rubble. That doesn’t seem to fill anyone else with panty-soiling terror, so we’re good.

By the frigging sweet grace of the  Great and Powerful OZ Almighty, and the awesome power of prayer so hard it looks like constipation, The First Baptist Church of Dallas has managed to raise the money it so desperately needed. Times may be lean in America, but the Lord takes care of his own, granting the Church the pants-crappingly huge sum of One Hundred and Fifteen Million (115,000,000) bones. Praise Him! Don’t spend it all in one place, you guys. In fact, we should think of all kinds of ways to spend this money that would best exemplify the Christian God’s compassion, generosity, beneficence – -

A Dallas megachurch is imploding four buildings Saturday morning to make way for a $115 million campus. (Christianpost)

Originally posted in 2010

Exactly! A consecrated, tax-exempt upgrade, something to showcase the oft-ostentatious “glory of God,” as Pastor Robert Jeffress puts it. Those four buildings He provided us were great and all, but their, I dunno… smallness? oldness? Whatever it was really distracted people from worshiping.  And really, did you expect Patricia to kneel down in her smart new pantsuit whilst surrounded by so much dusty, homespun ’90s humdrum? Crisis averted, Lord. Thank you. Tell me more! Will there be seats? Crosses?

Reportedly the largest church expansion program in modern history, the 1.5 million-square-foot campus will include a new 3,000-seat worship center, a six-floor education building, recreation areas, a sky bridge made of glass, a fountain with a water tower topped by a cross and a parking garage.

A homeless shelter, an orphanage, a soup kitchen, a refuge for those hit hardest by the failing economy, a business that would provide the community with jobs – – Oh, none of that? Well, you can’t have everything. $115 million (one hundred and fifteen million dollars) could save a parishioner or two from foreclosure, or buy a couple of meals-on-wheels, but then how would we fund our fancy, see-through bridge? This is a clear issue of what Jesus would do, and the answer is PIMP THE MOTHERFUCKER OUT! It’s a well known fact that, when Christ returns, He will appear at the place that best makes him look Bitches.  The tax-exempt ab machine in the new gym targets the obliques, right? Good, because I did not take a vow of corpulence, tell you what.

Gosh this really takes me back. Back to the days when we really knew how to get our worship on, and built unto Him monuments and richly appointed cathedrals, and were creative enough to justify it. Even while our populations starved, literally and intellectually, with no roofs over their heads and no means of supporting themselves and their families, they damned well had an expensive place to thank Christ for all of their blessings.

Why didn’t we think of literally going Medieval on our many problems before? Back then, we knew that the Son of Man is a fickle savior, and while omniscient and omnipotent, he gets super testy and throws a seraphic tantrum whenever we don’t remind Him of that fact loudly enough. We knew that the only thing better than gettin’ your prayer on is gettin’ jazzed on caffeine first, and thank Christ there’s a Starbucks built into the church (it’s in the Bible you guys: Mark 11:15–19, 11:27–33, Matthew 21:12–17, 21:23–27 and Luke 19:45–48, 20:1–8). We knew that anything is possible with a little curriculum adjustments, like completely removing “The Masque of the Red Death” from all public high school English classes. We knew that the best solution to the world’s problems – the poverty, the civil liberties violations, the filthy, festering, 100% lethal disease – was to pump all resources into a walk-in compensatory erect cock, with a Bronze Age torture device on the top that called the faithful from miles around to praise God and His Glory and the bounty he bestowed upon them. We’ve come a long way since then, but I’m glad we’re finally getting around to fixing that.

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Compromise Is A Four Letter Word

YOU WANT THE JOB, DOn'T YOU?

Yes. Yes. And your shoes, too...

Where’s the “Are you out of your fucking mind?” button? That’s what I thought when I was directed to the first of many polls wondering if I would turn over my Facebook password to a potential employer, if asked to do so at an interview.

Forgetting for the moment that the average person uses the same three or four passwords for all of their crap online, from JDate to Bank of America, and is therefore vulnerable on multiple fronts when handing out their passwords, there is no conceivable way this is advisable.

Not only not advisable, it is straight up illegal.

The legality of the practice is questionable, and states such as Illinois and Maryland are considering legislation to forbid it. Giving someone your Facebook login information is a violation of the site’s terms of service, and the Department of Justice considers it a federal crime to enter social media sites in violation of terms of service — although recent congressional testimony indicates that such violations would not be prosecuted, AP noted. (HP)

Nope, just illegal. Jeezus, why do we have to have a semantic debate every time a piece of testicle-scrunching news reaches the general public? This isn’t your pathetic little Oprah worshipping book club where you can sit around and wonder whether some fictitious bitch from New Orleans was right to drown herself, leaving her kids orphaned. There are real, actual laws on the books about it. If you hand over your electronic passwords to an employer, you are both breaking the law. Just like if you hand over your little boy to a priest for some good Catholic rapin’, you are both breaking the law.

Just who the hell do these employers think they are? I’ll tell you who. They know the world of the comfortably employed has 12% of the country in a ball vice, and they are the only thing standing between gainful employment and your fucking kid starving to death. They know that, if you keep your head and say, “Go to hell,” the next candidate will be that much more desperate to work a seventy hour week for a $300 check. Might as well tack on, “Oh, and hey, you know you’re going to have to blow me, right?” to the end of the interview. The next candidate always walks out with rug burns.

 Ari Lightman, distinguished service professor, digital media and marketing, and director of the CIO Institute at Carnegie Mellon University, said the practice may be surprising but is in many ways understandable – - (information week thanks Michael Schenck)

- – Aaaaand we don’t need to hear any more from that guy. “Conceivable”? yes. “A nightmare scenario likely to come about because we are all just slightly more evolved predators in business suits”? absolutely. But “understandable”? Breeder, please. The Raiders signing Carson Palmer was an understandable mistake. Making the first Spider-Man movie with Tobey Maguire was an understandable attempt to exploit a cherished character for money. Making the next two was unforgivable. Asking for a person’s prívate information when you enjoy a position of power over them is called extortion. It is understandable like cancelling Arrested Development was understandable. Better break out your firing stick, Carnegie Mellon. One of your professors doesn’t know what understandable means.

Frost & Sullivan’s Wengroff suggests a middle ground: “I would agree to walk a recruiter through my Facebook page that I signed in to, but I would not hand over the password,” he said.

"You know for pen drives and stuff..." is this reference too obscure?

... and you must submit to anal cavity checks every morning at the security gates...

 

See, you are what we call “part of the problem,” Wengroff. Would you give your potential employer a guided tour of your bedroom if he asked you for an hour alone in there? Down to your wife’s panty drawer? Because that’s what we’re talking about here. Everything an employer needs to know about you he can find out by ‘friending’ you. What he wants is your personal correspondence. And the bullshit line he gives about making sure you’re not doing anything illegal is as transparently false as a lie a fat guy tells his bitch wife on a shitty sitcom. He wants to know who you’re fucking, who you’re worshipping, and if you tell dick jokes under an assumed name on a blog. I’ll tell an employer about Scumbag Style if he asks, right down to the fact that one day I hope my shitty writing will pay the bills so I don’t have to sit behind a desk under his asshole thumb. But he can sit on the business end of an electrified rake if he thinks he gets admin access to my Tumblr.

Bottom line is, we don’t have to treat these things delicately. We don’t have to lower our eyes and shuffle our toes in the dirt like a four year old girl in an Easter dress when someone demands we strip ourselves naked for the basic human dignity of employment. We don’t have to treat all opinion equally, because most opinions are wrong. Very many of those wrong opinions come from people who don’t believe them at all, but hide a not-so-hidden agenda behind them. This usually happens when things are illegal. Ask a Republican if he’d let his wife’s vagina miss a doctor’s appointment. Ask Nickelback, under the influence of some truth serum, if they would actually listen to their crap were they in our shoes. And ask these employers and college admission people if you can have their Facebook passwords, and see how they answer. Best case scenario, their sense of fairness overcomes them, and they agree. Then you can post links to gay porn all over his Wall and ask his wife nicely if she’ll let him give her a jelly doughnut.

Besides, everyone knows all the nasty shit happens on christiansingles.com.

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All Up In Your Foxhole

I´m Taoist, and I practice Non-action. So hang tight and get better, cutie!

Western Christians refuse to admit it, but the idiot aphorism spouted relentlessly by bumper-sticker retards concerning atheists in foxholes has been thoroughly debunked, and they know it. So they have to come up with something else you can’t do as an atheist – - besides, of course, keep a straight face in church. A friend told me his cousin did it once, but it smacks of the whole “pink sock” story that everyone has a friend who knows somebody to whom it has happened.

Anyway, the meaningless drivel void needed filling, and the new article “No Nurse Is an Atheist” is just the caulk to do it. Author Christina Feist-Heilmeier, RN, a thirty-plus year veteran of nursing (if you’re so smart, how come you never became a doctor, huh?), posits that it is impossible to be an atheist and a nurse at the same time. Kind of like chewing gum and doing your mom from behind. Christina Hyphenation says she has known hundreds of nurses, and not one of them has been an atheist.

Perhaps it is because they’re scared shitless she’d have them killed to maintain her wildly unrealistic philosophy. Perhaps it is because she lives in Utah or Arkansas. Perhaps she’s one of those assholes that hands out fliers and tries to ‘save’ all those who don’t believe as she does, and nobody bothers discussing it with her. Speaking of which, who do you suggest a nurse pray to when she can’t find a vein, or accidentally put turkey gravy in the IV drip? (as if he didn’t smell the pew polish all over this…)

Nurses from any faith do better for themselves and for their patients by actively practicing their faith. The Muslim nurse strives to be a better Muslim. The Hindu nurse strives to be a better Hindu, etc.

Aw. That statement was so ingratiatingly accepting of brown people it could only have come from a Christian. Let me brush my teeth before they fall out, you’re so adorably progressive. “They’ll burn in hell, of course, but at least they are doing God’s work up here before they do.” That is the most loaded ‘etc.’ I have heard since Rush Limbaugh went to KFC and said, “I’ll have a salad, some corn, etc.” That ‘etc.’ means, “… but the Christian nurse has Jesus guiding her hand, so they generally save more lives. But God bless ‘em they try.” Go drink out of a bedpan, nutso.

STFU Jesus

Not to mention, Jesus is a pretty shitty doctor.

By far, my greatest role model has been Mother Teresa of Calcutta.

There you go. ‘Nuff said. Scumbag Style has covered this topic extensively already, but suffice it to say, Mother Teresa was the definition of a cunt: a sadist of epic proportions, an embezzler of charity money, and a friend of many fascist regimes. Christina the nurse is right when she says, “Her international impact continues across the world, even after her death, through the tremendous work of her Sisters of Charity,” but not in the way she imagines. If you’ve been paying attention at all, you know most of this, so I won’t say any more, except to include a personal aside.

I'm a wiccan nurse, so... you're good to wait on the moon right?

I automatically hate you if you say, “Mother Teresa of Calcutta.” As opposed to the other internationally famous celebrity nun named Teresa? We know, butt munch. The Vatican used all your charity money to pimp her to the world, along with all the stupid lies you seem to have absorbed about her. I promise, there will never be confusion if you abbreviate the name. I don’t know what the deal is here, but whatever reason these people have for tacking on the suffix ‘of Calcutta,’ have to have some ulterior motive. It may just be some chivalric pomposity, or maybe it is a placeholder for her real, unpronounceable, Indian name. Don’t worry, just because you gave her a white name for ease of the white man’s digestion, we know she was just some Mexican or whatever.

Of course, then the question has to be asked: Why disabuse these people of the lie? If you want to make the fictional Mother Teresa – the caring, selfless, nurturing, uber-nurse – your hero, well shit, there’re worse things. Captain Picard is no less a hero of mine because he is fictional – - I want to be just like him. Maybe, in our quest for ultimate truth, we miss the power of the lie. Like letting the Occupy protesters be when they imagined their Guy Fawkes masks stood for revolution and freedom and not the oppressive Catholic monarchy he actually advocated. It’s not like it’s a train we can stop, anyway, the PR is just too good. If it weren’t for all the poor sons and daughters of bitches suffering and dying needlessly in Missionaries of Charity death camps in the name of the Mother Teresa mythos, we could just chalk this up as the least odious product of revisionist history. Man, poor people can be such a pain in the ass.

Unless a nurse has a good system of coping and renewal, the emotional well-being is very much at stake.

She means going to church, by the way, not picking up a hooker on the way home from Yoga. There’s nothing so invigorating and refreshing than cramping up the knees on those dubiously padded wooden things in front of the pew.

The caring can be universal amongst many religions when everyone’s humanity and dignity are the goal.

Gosh, then I’d better get me some religion. You say any one will do? (Well, most, obviously. Everyone knows Unitarians don’t have hearts.) So, I can just choose one, and be a better nurse? Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of religion? I mean, you have to believe, as a Christian, that the prayers of the Hindu nurse fall on deaf ears, right? Or does God just rake ‘em all up in one big prayer pile and listen to them all? Couldn’t I just concern myself with everyone’s humanity and dignity without resorting to mythology? My goodness, how do you wrap your mind around it all? All I know is, I love when theists talk about human dignity.

Are you done, lady? Good, because we have some retorts. Going to hang out for this?

Time for your Misogi harai enema! Hee hee

First a statistic. Infobarrel says Sweden is the most atheist country in the world, and Japan as the fifth most. Meanwhile, a Newsweek study finds Sweden to have the 3rd best quality healthcare on the planet (Japan is #1), and the United States (highly religious) to rank 26th, tied with the Czech Republic and friggin’ Chile.  Give the chart a quick looksee. You’ll find the most religious nations stacked like dead cheerleaders at the bottom.

In a predominantly atheist country, I’m going to go ahead and doubt they scoured the countryside for the dissenters to give sponge baths. Since the quality of healthcare in Sweden is considerably higher than yours, I’d put drinking money on their atheist nurses being better than you and Jesus.

There’s an excellent rebuttal, on the same nursing website, by an Air Force Captain who has the thankless job of filling the hole where there are supposedly both no atheists in foxholes or in the nursing profession. It’s wonderful and concise, and you should read it, but his closing remark is priceless:  “We atheists will fill in on Sunday morning if religious believers can at least respect us as fellow nurses.”

I leave you to study his work alone, because I wanted to show you something a little more personal. A very great friend of mine, an atheist and a nurse, had this to say:

I would say that as a nurse and an atheist that I am still able to support my patients’ spiritual health, and I view it as part of their care and recovery because I believe in holistic care. That is to say, I treat a patient’s mind, body, and spirit. It is not for me to judge a person’s belief system although I find mine constantly under scrutiny. I do not feel it is necessary for me to believe in God to understand the concept of faith. I have faith in many things one of them being myself and my abilities to take care of people. I do agree that nursesclicky clicky mr sticky are subject to burn out and do need an outlet. For some nurses that is their faith. It is not easy to be surrounded everyday by the sick, and it is never easy to lose a patient. So some nurses may find comfort in that by believing those patients are in a better place. I also believe they are in a better place because there is no more illness for them or pain. I am also committed to having healthy outlets for my on the job stress and strain, and while my outlets may not be praying or going to church it does not mean that they are any less effective. I believe that open communication about my feelings, exercise, good nutrition, reading books I love, and being open to asking for help when I need it will keep me sane in this hectic career I have chosen for myself. Above all will be the fact that I love and am so proud to be a nurse.

Watch out, she’s probably lacing the IV with liquefied baby, a la The Matrix, so you have no choice but to be an atheist when you get better.

I am a Christian Scientist nurse. Would you care to engage in innuendo?

 

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The Bitch Box, On Tour

A decent, moderate Baptist who teaches at Baylor. Friends have told me that Baylor is no fun. Perhaps they did not hang with this dude.

Normally the Bitch Box is reserved for hate mail, corrections, terrible advice, death threats – the usual front-of-the-magazine fare. But in this special case, more discussion about Scumbag Style happened outside these epithet caked halls by strangers than ever happened within.

Over at Osler’s Razor, the proprietor made a point of linking to SBS, as we had apparently published a response to something he wrote… the wonderful, exhausting, endless blog chain that I happily add a link to with this edition of The Bitch Box. He directed his readers to my response, as he enjoyed my perspective, as well as one of another author. A good, open minded fellow is hard to find in our angry, stilted blogosphere, and I thank him heartily for the recognition, not to mention the traffic.

I wish to Christ I knew exactly what the debate concerned, but by the time I got there, the link to SBS was broken, so I could not find out what was said. It matters not, however, when you read his fans’ responses. Unreasonably interesting, says I.

By The Duchess

I felt like I was suffering for my own sins when reading the Scumbag article. Firstly the drawing of him scared me very badly. He had crazy angry eyes. Remind me never to invite him to tea.Or perhaps I should,to overcome the prejudice I have against crazy,angry eyes. As one who loves to write myself,I have to say,and he would hate this,his style is a combination of the divine and profane. And is original,which I count precious. Odd word. I know you don’t want me to discuss style. The article by and large made me sad. He sees no Love. To focus on the scapegoat metaphor instead of the Man,Jesus Christ,who he was and what he said is an astounding,cruel loss … [Blah Blah paragraph of Jesus suffering for my ungrateful ass]… Scumbag’s reasoning is human being reasoning and so it doesn’t make sense…

Many a woman, be she princess or lady or scullery maid, has fallen prey to those eyes, my dear. But worry not, I come not for your soul, but for your tea. Are we talkin’ the full Brit spread here, with the scones and the butler and your grandmother’s silver? Are you even British? A lot of British people are prejudiced, so it makes sense. Never fear, in time you will overcome your mistrust of perceived criminal psychosis in the outward ocular appearance, and learn to piss your pants over the Arkham inmate within.

By Scott Davis

From the tone of the author of “Scumbug Style”, I should not have guessed that he had read Ludwig Wittgenstein; my mistake though, he has probably also read Levi Struass. As for his anger, there is therapy for that.

Wait, am I being insulted? A lot of tone is lost in text, I can never tell. Did you just realize that dudes who like to tell poo jokes can also be hyper-literate? Or is having read these authors like some horrible proletariat faux-pas against God and the GOP? By being able to reference them so ably, you must have read some Wittgenstein and Strauss… so… I know you are but what am I?

Click here to send hate mail and death threats, ask for advice, or offer corrections on misplaced factual matter.

Like Dear Abby, but hate mail is actually encouraged here.

 

 

 

By Lee

Love the cartoon on Scumbag! Says it all.

Thank you, brother. See? Class pay attention. This is called “constructive criticism.”

By Marta

I have to say that I appreciate the different perspective Scumbag Style offers with sarcastic aplomb. But then this opinion comes from someone baptized as a Greek Orthodox whose grandmother was deeply faithful, whose mother was agnostic, father a scientist and ambivalent in matters of faith and exposed to a steady dose of Bolshevik indoctrination up until early adulthood, the effect of all being that I am always open to see valid points from anyone able to articulate them in love, sarcasm or anger.

Now you’re getting the hang of it! Bonus points for the Scrabble word “aplomb.”

The Duchess Returns!

I want you to know, if you look anything like Keira Knightly, I will be happy to take all the shit you can dish out for an evening.

Perhaps it is exactly because I have seen those eyes somewhere before, that they disturb me so. Perhaps in my own mirror.I don’t think mine are angry,but I suppose they have been crazed from time to time. I struggle with being judgmental every day of my life,an inherited gene, along with occasional deep sadness.But at least I struggle. It is because I know what it is to think that you alone are spinning all the balls of the Universe, that I feel some pain in recognition when I see that face. I hope it came out that I think he is a talented writer and that he makes his points well.

I know, your grace. My eyes are haunting, and they insinuate themselves upon the female mind like an urgent whisper, a secret half forgotten, until to stave off madness you must return for another look. You imagine if you just look again, the effect will have been pure psychology, a trick of the monitor’s illumination, and like a portrait that seems to follow you with its painted eyes, you believe a second glace will reassure you of your own girlish timidity. But every time you lose yourself in the intensity of the gaze, and hours flee and are lost before you again recover your senses. But it is not to be, my sweet, for an image is just that: I am sweeter in person, and I often wear glasses.

By Christine

Wow Scumbag style. Unfortunately because I clicked the link and read Maestro Scum’s take I will probably be bombarded with strange ads on FB. C’est la vie….

I like it! “Maestro.” Kind of rolls off the tongue. “Maestro Scum! Conducting the orchestra of social media viral obscenity!” Yes. Yes. First you’re reading about social issues with a hint of phallic self-righteousness, next you try to poke somebody on Facebook and are quickly assaulted with the dregs of guerilla marketing. Bellissimo! (See? I can speak Spanish, too.)

Oh yeah. Our kind uses Microsoft Paint.

The discussion degenerates into swapping Dietrich Bonhoeffer quotes like bubblegum cards, and since that has nothing to do with me, it is not interesting. I have never felt so appreciated whilst under heavy semantic fire. Thanks for the entertainment, you crazy bastards. I sincerely hope I have read you all correctly, and you can indeed weather the fraternal ribbing. Really, thanks for the compliments, and realize that for lesser beings, I would never have considered including this disclaimer at all.

clicky clicky mr sticky[EDIT: Upon further investigation, mine was an article entitled "Worse Than The OJ Verdict" which is now lost to the ether. I remember it concerned a mock capital punishment trial of Jesus, conducted by Osler and friends, wondering whether a modern jury would convict if the penalty was death. My argument, if I remember correctly, was that the trial was pretty much a waste of time, because without the scapegoating, slaying, and resurrection of Jesus, Christianity is nothing. Its very mythos hangs on the events of what we now call Holy Week, so not convicting Jesus would kill the religion.]

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Gah! Put It Away (Part 2)

Part one is making its meager existence here. Soundtrack today. Thanks to Bonetti over at Unemployed Geniuses.

Man, this is the most boring pron ever.

Celebrity sex tapes can be a great time, especially when they are leaked, and the subjects don’t see it coming. We’re entertained for different reasons. We were so stoked to know that Paris Hilton was as shitty a lay as we knew in our hearts she would be. We tittered sympathetically at Tommy Lee’s massive belly rope and how it fit in the vagina we’d wanted to see for some time. We gasped in mock puritan disgust at what Martin Lawrence did to that tranny hooker – - what? You don’t have that one? Oh, snap, come over tomorrow night. We’ll have Cold Duck and pizza bagels.

Ok, now I want you to mentally picture the celebrities you would not want to see in a leaked sex tape. The list is shorter than you think, once you put your mind to the task. Celebrity does strange things to tolerance levels, and morbid curiosity covers everybody else from Tori Spelling up to, say, Jon Lovitz.

Now I want you to bump that list down by one. That’s right, Precious just made your maybe list, because life just hacked up what you didn’t want to know was your actual #1.

Maybe we should just make the list go to 11

A [recently filmed] sex tape featuring former professional wrestler Hulk Hogan has surfaced, according to TMZ. [Huffpost]

Now you can’t stop thinking about it either. Share in my pain! I have never heard of anything more unnecessary in my entire life. The homoerotic spectacle of 1990s WWF footage has been more than plenty for anyone who found him attractive when he wasn’t ninety years old. Any chick who was in her early twenties at the time had a 70% chance of firsthand knowledge, if they wanted it. The worst part isn’t the part that someone thought this tape should be shopped, the worst part is that they and the distributor are bound to make a shit ton of cash.

In the clip, Hogan sports a thong-shaped tan line and pulls off his shirt to inform his female friend, who is not his ex-wife, Linda Hogan [a twat, btw - ed], or his current wife, Jennifer McDaniel, that he started working out again.

Check out my 12 inch pythons

Wachu gonna do when Hulkamania goes wild all over your face?

Gah! Stop! I know! I actually imagined that exact scenario when you told me there was a Hulk Hogan sex tape. Put ‘em away, bitch tits! No matter how you sculpt them, they’re still rotting orange-peel wrapped old eggplant pecks, because you’re ninety! “Check out my 24 centimeter pythons.” Shut up, man. If you want to tan, that’s between you and the skank, but decency calls for some board shorts or something. Christ, tell me – tell me, you pig fucker – you don’t go to the beach in a thong.

You know how you never could actually smell what The Rock was cooking? And how you were pretty thankful for that? It’s like that. Subconsciously, I knew he had sex at least two or three times because they shoved Hulk’s stupid, rich, untalented get in our faces relentlessly for a couple years. Not until now did I have to congeal that knowledge into anything resembling a cogent mental picture.

Wachu say?! No, seriously, your ears start going around the 50 year mark...

If you’ll allow me an anecdote: My folks were kind enough to hold my fifth birthday celebration at Chuck E Cheese’s. I remember distinctly getting a crapload of Hulk Hogan gear. Weird punker hats with “HULKAMANIA” emblazoned across the front. Bandannas, fake mustaches, glistening balm, the whole nine. For weeks I ran around yelling, “Eat your vitamins, brother!” and tackling the retarded kid down the street. Weeks! My birthday is in mid-June, I had two months of nothing to do but tackling retarded kids wearing ridiculous blue and red accoutrements.

Those blissful summer memories are now irretrievably tarnished. Can you imagine the conversation you would have with 5 year old me? Yeah, kid, wear the bandana, but in 1999 he turns into a bad guy, and in 2012 you are going to see his strapping, sixty year old, naked ass semi-rhythmically pounding some strange whore hoping to get on his reality show. “What’s a reality show?” I would have asked. “It’s kind of like a celebrity sex tape,” you would have replied, “only you don’t care about anybody that’s on it, and there’s less dignity.” Why the hell would you tell a kid that, you dick?

Hogan’s lawyer David Houston released a statement expressing that his client is “appalled at the unauthorized release of a secretly filmed video,” adding, “[Hogan] neither approved of the filming nor the release of the same. It is clearly an outrageous invasion of privacy and breach of trust if it is genuine.”

We’re all appalled, Hulk. More than you can possibly know, but thank you for granting that all the same. But an “outrageous breach of trust”? Come now. You’ve been having your way with bar whores and skanky hangers on for upwards of thirty years. What made you trust this one? Did she say you could while you were in your vinegar strokes, because I’ve been burned by that trick before, too. If I were him, I’d be searching hotel rooms for webcams and paparazzi every time I picked a bitch up, or bringing them back to my safe room every time. Hope you didn’t let any bank account numbers slip while you were busy making your tits dance, dummy. Any final words from a former hero?

To all my little Hulkamaniacs, say your prayers, take your vitamins and you too can pose naked in front of a half-interested prostitute.

clicky clicky mr sticky

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