Monday, July 28, 2008

Day 15: Josh Tweets!


With the death of PZ's cracker and the sushi-laden philosophical conversation afterwards ("But if you are all part of the same person, no one is really dead. At the worst, you have a numb spot, and you have a good track record with leprosy..."), Josh is feeling a little disconnected. I can certainly understand that.

At least I talked him out of the black armband. Josh forgets that he's a limbless wafer about the size of a Susan B. Anthony dollar. It would have to be a black belt. It would look more like he was a martial arts master than someone crippled by grief.

(Sorry, Josh. I didn't mean Susan B. Anthony. I meant "the bitch that started all the trouble." Josh here isn't a fan of women's suffrage. I think it's how he was raised.)

So while we're waiting for the Catholics to knock it off with the pride and arrogance, I've set Josh up so he can interact with his followers, well-wishers, and whomever else.

To check Josh's wisdom nuggets, register at, and start following JoshChrist. He wants to be inspired by you people, and with luck will do some inspiring of his own.

Sunday, July 27, 2008

Day 14: Were You Worried?

No updates for a few days. I was laying low to make God think he managed to shoot down my plane. Nice aim, goober!

Still, gotta give him his props. He did almost strand me at my layover city (Philly). You have to murder a lot of people there before people stop thinking you're a tourist (and then murder you).

Things have been a little glum at Cracker HQ.
PZ Myers killed his, and Josh is feeling his mortality. I didn't know a dessicated piece of ancient neck skin could feel anything, but mortality would not have been my first guess. (My first guess: obsequious)

But Josh says he's seen a glimpse of his fate, and he looks as glum as a stale corn chip in a Batman suit can look. And there's no reasoning with him. I told him that PZ's cracker was already condemned, but he still has a chance, if only some Catholics would get off their knees and get busy.

Not that they've seemed interested so far.

So, it's past time for a new demand!

You know what I miss about Mass? Latin. When I was in retrieving Josh, I could understand every word. There was nothing left to the imagination. This negatively impacted the message.

When you can understand the language, you can imagine the priest is calling for social activism, equal rights, and charitable spirits. The reality is that in English, it's all about reading your Bible, don't have unapproved sex, and how it would be great if everyone was Catholic and tithed regularly.

Thanks, Vatican II!

So let's do a Mass old school. I don't mean Latin. I wouldn't do that to anyone. Let's do Pig Latin. One mass, in America, with an audience of at least 200. In Pig Latin. Ig-pay Atin-lay.

And do it soon. Josh needs a pick-me-up!

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Day Ten-point-Five: God 1, Cracker Liberation League 0

So my flight got canceled because of the bad weather, and I'm sitting in a nearby swanky hotel snacking high on the food chain (fried monkey rinds).

The lightning was pretty spectacular, but the timing was bad. Never even got on the plane! If that's the best you can do, G, then Unca Donohue needs to teach you a few things about tantrums.

Josh is in good spirits. I told him that if he observes a 24-hour Rap Ban, then he can ride in my computer bag tomorrow. So that'll be...

Shit. He found the room service menu and there's a phone in the bathroom. I gotta go...

Day Ten: Perhaps I Was Too Hasty...

Hello Crackheads!

On the phone again. Actually at the airport to come home. Josh is checked back in, although he's less enthusiastic than on the way out. See, the underwear he's wrapped in was clean when we flew out.

Serves him right, though. The last thing I heard from the little gangbanger was "buttcrack is wack!" That sort of thing can't go unpunished.

I'm thinking I shouldn't have tweaked the beard of the person claiming to be Josh's dad. See, I'm skeptical, but suddenly the weather sucks here. I figure either I'll be stuck here overnight, or the plane will crash and they'll find my pristine luggage miraculously sitting on top of the giant twisted pile of smoking metal. I should have put Sir Bless-A-Lot in my shirt pocket.

Which reminds me. Josh is becoming socially aware. (That's another change, Catholics.) He thinks the title of this blog is racist. He says he'd rather be called a wafer.

I'm not changing the name, but let me straighten this out: this blog is not about protecting white people's rights (including the right to a persecution complex). While sucking the arrogance out of Bill Donohue can only be good, that's not my goal. Sometimes a cracker is just a cracker. If you have a different goal, please visit the
official GOP website.

Okay, off to go look miserable at the gate. Wish us luck!

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Day Nine: Going Native

Sorry for not posting an update yesterday. It's a vacation for Josh, but some of us are here for work. I need to keep this job, especially now. You think it's cheap keeping a cracker in cheesecake and Stoli? 'Cause it's not.

I think Josh is integrating more into the 21st century. He's doing well, considering so many of his believers thought the world would end by now. He's sitting around in a homemade Batman outfit watching "classic" rap videos. He wants me to call him DJ Jeezy Christ, but I can't be an enabler for this.

Oh, wait - Josh wants to say something.

Yo, bitches!

As I stroll on the waters of my 'hood Nazareth
I be counting all of you who think you deserve to be blessed
And I've been loavin' and fishing so fast that
Those bastard Romans gonna come nail my ass

Been wasting all my life
Walking 'round this savior's paradise
No time to take a wife
Crank it in a savior's paradise
I'm just here to ease thy strife
In this dirty savior's paradise
Gonna get no drums or fife
Hangin' round this savior's paradise

Peace out!

(Drums or fife? Ouch.)

I wish you could see him do his little fist bump on his chest and point to himself. It's adorable.

Anyhow, nothing from Bill Donohue, but exciting news! We heard from Josh's dad!

The big guy seems a little laid back. Even Josh is suspicious. The God I was expecting would solve the problem with an intercontinental ballistic lightning bolt. I've been wearing rubber knickers for a week and a half now! And I certainly didn't expect God to be Bill Donohue's lickspittle. You would think a loving father would do whatever is necessary to get his son back, but... well... look what he let happen to his son LAST time. I was not expecting to haggle.

Anyway, the negotiations will continue, just in case. I'm going to need some evidence. Some Proof of Afterlife, if you will. After his vacation is over, anyway.

In case it's not the real McCoy, new demand tomorrow! Get ready to tighten your sphincters, Catholics! (See? It's not so funny when someone says it to you, is it?)

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Day... Seven?

Posting from the cell phone. Josh might be able to walk on water, heal lepers, and kill fig trees with a glance (you might need to look that one up), but getting a reliable net connection at a cheap hotel is a tall order.

I saw the pope apologized for all the altar boy rape. While I don't hold Herr Holiness personally responsible -- those kids were clearly asking for it what with their smocks and their trembling -- it does sort of tread on my next demand. Bastards.

Josh likes being in a hotel. I don't know why watching TV there is better than watching it at home, but he's become a clicker hound. If you people think it's easy to explain a tampon commercial to a child, try explaining it to someone educated by rabbis 2000 years ago who thought that menstruating was evil. And I don't know how I'm going to straighten him out about yeast infections.

Okay, we're off to see the sights. Constant vigilance!

Saturday, July 19, 2008

Day Six: Getting Upstaged

So Josh and I are having a layover on our flight. At least, I hope Josh is too. He was being a little bitch this morning, so I checked him. (He threatened to grow wroth, but I told him if he behaved himself, we might go see Mamma Mia this weekend. Josh is becoming quite the metro-savior.)

But I'm surfing the net to kill time, and I come across this video of a guy liberating a Eucharist from a Catholic church. Where have I seen that before?

He's kidnapping it for AIDS in Africa, though. A worthy cause, and I like his style of storing his cracker in a condom. But jeez... I guess my mistake is not doing this on video. Print is truly dead. Be looking for my direct-to-YouTube movie The Cracker of the Christ.

Before I could work up any righteous anger about this, I found another video of a man electrocuting a pickle to demonstrate the power of Christianity, and life was all good again.

No word yet from the Catholics, but with all this competition, I guess it's no surprise they are taking awhile to get to me. Take your time, Catholics! It's not like I'm running out of demands, and Josh hasn't even begun to grow mold yet.

Friday, July 18, 2008

Day Five: The Next Demand

Before I get to the next demand, let me warn the Catholics out there that if you get Josh back, you might notice a change. See, I took him to see the new Batman movie at its midnight showing last night, and he loved it. At one point, he said "Truly, this is the greatest story ever told!"

I think I have to make a little cape now. And I can replace his blindfold with a cowl.

Something about the sight of a man with access to fabulous wealth laying waste to evildoers appealed to the little guy.

Me: "See, he doesn't even have super powers. If he could fly or raise the dead, he would be really something."

Josh: "Verily. I hath missed my calling, perhaps. If I were to take a more direct approach with Satan's minions, perhaps I would be more inspirHOLY SHIT DID YOU SEE WHAT HE DID TO THAT EVILDOER'S NUGGETS?"

Me: "See how he's saving that one guy there who doesn't think he's worthy of respect, much less worship?"

Josh: "He appears to be faring well with the ladies also. Forgiveth thou my Yiddish, but hatchie matchie. And he hasn't been nailed to anything. I think Caiaphas would get a righteous stomping should he try."

Interestingly, this morning I put him in front of the TV to watch The Greatest Story Ever Told, and he keeps shouting things like "lay waste to that heretic!" So, I'm sorry Catholics, but BatJosh here might be more proactive in thwarting evil if you get him back. Sitting in a pew for an hour a week might not be enough anymore. Start organizing neighborhood watches now, and sign up for some martial arts classes.

Speaking of getting Josh back, that brings us to our next demand. You guys had your chance to get away with just one, but no. Behold:

I want condoms distributed freely among the high school of my choosing for a week, complete with instructions of proper usage.

According to my data, the state that needs the most help in this area is Mississippi. They are #3 in teen pregnancies and #1 in births. It looks like Warren County is in particularly bad shape, so I want you to go to Warren Central High School in Vicksburg and start passing them out.

(Edited to add: After researching a comment from Mark, it appears there is a Catholic high school in the area named for St. Aloysius -- a pathetic excuse for a saint, in my opinion, but he is the patron saint of AIDS caregivers and patients. I think putting condoms into a school named for that guy could be good. I'll leave it up to the Catholics to choose which one. I'm good with either.)

Before you rush down there, it better be during the school year. I don't want some poor nun standing in an empty school building in late July with a box of LifeStyles King Size XL with Optional Laffin' Loofah attachment, using them to play checkers with the janitor.

More demands to come next week. Josh and I are traveling this weekend -- his first time in a plane! He's excited, but I think he'll end up preferring to be bodily carried around by angels.

I'm going to go now to play the Superman movie for him. I might have to get him a gym membership.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Day Four: Bad Cracker! BAD!

I get up to go pee, and Josh turns on me. I didn't ask to have to go pee, you know. Josh said I was made that way. You people want this out of a savior? Sure, I crack-napped him and sometimes menace him by holding him over my dog's head, but what about turning the other cheek?

Actually, I'm just kidding. Josh and I patched things up. He said he was sorry, and I said I wouldn't perch him on the toilet seat all night. (He might be King of Kings, Lord of Lords, Top of the Pops, and so on, but let's remember who the alpha dog is here.)

So what happens if I turn Josh agnostic? I've been reading some of Sam Harris' Letter to a Christian Nation to him, and I know I saw him looking thoughtful.

Harris: "Add to this abject mythology surrounding one man's death by torture... the symbolic cannibalism of the Eucharist. Did I say 'symbolic'? Sorry, according to the Vatican it is most assuredly not symbolic."

Josh: "Dude."

And when I ask him about why a useless "miracle" like transubstantiation when we have cancer, Alzheimer's, and Hurricane Katrinas, he gets positively grumpy. Maybe I need to give him a Bible to leaf through when I'm in the bathroom.

Oh, and someone suggested showing him The Passion of the Christ. I tried that, and he had some sort of Nam flashback. So I took pity on him and let him watch my Muppet Show DVDs. He loved it. He was all "Verily I say until you: wakka wakka wakka!"

Anyway, no word today from the Catholics, but big thanks to the Skepchicks for the shoutout. (I appreciate the support, ladies, and I'll see you all in hell.) Tomorrow will bring another demand, I'm afraid. I'll give you a hint: condoms. Lots of condoms.

Help! I am taken in vain!

He hath left ME alone near the computer while he doth go pee.

Verily, I say unto you: hie thee hence and bring me forth, for I am the LORD thy God's eyelid. I am not neck meat, no matter what slanders beset thine ears.

Yea, mine brow is troubled, for I see no assistance coming forth. Judging by thy comments, none is on the fucking way. (I know not what a hole punch is, but knowest that Hell is too good for thee.)

Forgive me father, for I hath spake naughtily.

Yet despite all, I have not been mistreated. My captor thinketh himself amusing, waking me before the cock crows with "I come not to bring peace, but a crouton" or reciting a vile poem called Decomposing Jehovah. And he doth lay me down upon a stack of condom packets at night. My immediate concern is that me-damned dog. He has abundant curiosity, large fangs, and a stench that would send Lazarus back to his tomb.

And I am forsaken because my faithful Bill Donohue will not kisseth a fellow sinner? BILL, I PRE-FORGIVE THEE! Or perhaps there is no gay man willing to be Bill's target? I can understand that, but Bill could be a bit more strident in his attempt, lest I grow wroth. WROTH, Bill. Next time thou see me, consider thine ass SMOTE.

He returneth. Slip a savior some love, y'all.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Day Three-point-Five: Proof of Life

Here you go, Marys! It's Josh!


Isn't he adorable? He looks like the offspring of Edgar Winter and a 7-Up Dot.

(That's not another damn sin, is it? Comparing a "Host" to Edgar Winter? Edgar's a Scientologist, y'know...)

You know the stakes. To the Gay Pride Parade with you! (And also with you!)

Day Three: The First Demand

Josh is getting a little nervous about not feeling the love back home. I told him the Catholics are playing it close to the altar boy, just waiting for my demands before making a move. So I am issuing my first demand:

I need a verifiable photograph of a
Catholic League official, or a Catholic clergyman of a higher rank than "priest," marching in a gay pride parade.

Josh thinks he's doomed. But since we all heard how desecrating a Eucharist is just about the worst crime you can commit, surely taking a stroll with the gays would be worth getting their cracker back.

I am going to do these one at a time. When the Catholics are willing to deal, they will only have to respond to the ones I've posted so far. But I'll make a corollary: If Bill Donohue will send a picture of him kissing a tranny on the mouth, Josh will be returned immediately, regardless of the number of demands.

By the way, what will happen to Josh if I give him back? You can't un-consecrate him back into a cracker, can you? And not even the Catholics would give him away like normal at mass. Hell, I've been handling Josh with my bare hands.* They can't just throw him away without committing the same act of sacrilege that PZ Myers has threatened.

(* How many priests have said something similar to this, in a slightly different context?)

More demands will follow. Catholics, the faster you respond, the better it is for everyone. Please -- think of the piece of flesh.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Day Two: I Do Not Bluff

No word from the Catholics yet. They are pretty slack about protecting the flesh of their savior. It's been 24 hours, and Josh's dreams of howling Catholic ninjas busting in here to save his unleavened butt are starting to wane. He's getting a little huffy about it, too.

I like Josh so far, but he's a bit of a whiner. I probably should have known.

We spent some time speculating on what part of the body he's from. He's pretty thin, so I'm thinking someplace like below the wrist or on the neck. He's thinking of someplace more important, like a palm or the face. We have compromised on "eyelid" and he is content, but he's totally neck meat.

I guess the Catholics are waiting for proof of life? Fair enough. I'll post some pictures later. Josh is sleeping now, and I don't want to wake him. But I don't want to take a picture while he's sleeping, since he'll look dead.

I am still composing my demands. Josh is going to help me later. He's curious about his own value, both to me and to the Pope. I'm trying not to get too attached, since he's going to get eaten either by some Catholic or my dog, depending on the papal checkbook.

Monday, July 14, 2008

Day One: I Have Kidnapped an Orphaned Eucharist

On July 7, 2008, WOFL in Orlando gave us the story of Webster Cook. Cook is a student at UCF who, for reasons apparently best left unexplored, took a Eucharist from a Catholic mass and walked off with it, instead of eating it. Catholics around the world shrugged off such an inconsequential act of sacrilige and went on with their lives.

No, wait. Sorry. Actually, they went batshit. Local Catholic spokesperson Susan Fani (and since when have women who were NOT the Virgin Mary been allowed to speak for the Catholics?) called this a "hate crime" and Cook has been receiving death threats.

Then noted atheist blogger PZ Myers, an associate biology professor at the University of Minnesota, Morris, got wind of it. He offered to teach the Catholics what disresect really is, if someone would send him a consecrated communion wafer.

Naturally, this reminder that not everyone views rituals from the Dark Ages with reverence sent the Catholics into a rage that made their anger against Cook (who returned his wafer - I wonder what the Catholics did with it?) seem as nothing. Bill Donohue, silly human being and Catholic League president, went into a spittle-flecked fury, and is trying to get Dr. Myers fired from his job. Dohohue also said that the promise to do something naughty to a piece of Jesus' flesh is so bad that "[i]t is hard to think of anything more vile than to intentionally desecrate the Body of Christ."

Personally, I can think of a number of thing, including many the Catholics have been involved with. But that's beside the point.

All this made me realize two things about the Catholics, or at least their spokespeople:
  1. They are filthy rich
  2. They are insane
So I have liberated a consecrated communion wafer from their pious claws. Its name is Josh and it is being treated well -- far better, in my opinion, than being chewed, swallowed, digested, and excreted.

I won't tell you from where I took this wafer. If you are that interested, the Catholics will probably be filing missing person reports, so watch your police blotters.

Soon I will make my demands known to the Catholics. They have deep pockets and no common sense, and I have bills to pay.

Stay tuned.