Moses and Aaron, confident that their Godly words and C-grade magic tricks will win their people's freedom, go before the pharaoh and ask permission for the Israelites to hold a 3-day feast in God's honor in the wilderness. A 3-day feast? Did Moses and Aaron lose their stones? They were supposed to demand the Israelites' freedom from bondage and instead ask for a long weekend. Laaame!
God isn't angry at this sudden change in negotiating tactics on Moses and Aaron's part. In fact, this is all part of God's plan. Before popping the big demand, God wans to annoy the hell out of the pharaoh angry, and the 3-day-pass request does the trick. The pharaoh is so angry that he not only denies the Israelites shore leave he also refuses to supply them with straw. Without straw, they cannot make their daily quota of bricks for the kingdom. When they fail to make the bricks, the pharaoh has them beaten. Suddenly the Israelites regret listening to the man who claimed to speak to God alone on a mountain top while eating peyote buttons.
The Israelites meet up with Moses and Aaron and bitterly complain. "The LORD look upon you, and judge; because ye have made our savour to be abhorred in the eyes of Pharaoh, and in the eyes of his servants, to put a sword in their hand to slay us," they say. "And you have cooties, too."
Annoyed, Moses confers with the Lord again. "Lord, wherefore hast thou so evil entreated this people?" Moses asks. "Why is it that thou hast sent me? For since I came to Pharaoh to speak in thy name, he hath done evil to this people; neither hast thou delivered thy people at all. And now everyone thinks I have cooties!"
God spouts a bunch of mumbo jumbo about covenants and lineages and how powerful his is blah blah blah, and goes on and on like that for a whole chapter. Moses, who has the worst self-esteem of any biblical character thus far, wonders why pharaoh would even listen to him because he's dumb and stupid and of uncircumcised lips (it really says that, and no, I don't know what it means). He storms away and blasts My Chem and writes in his journal how much he hates his stupid God because his stupid lips are uncircumcised. Stupid lips!
God tells the petulant Moses and his silent-partner brother Aaron that he has made Moses "a god to Pharaoh." That explains why pharaoh isn't listening to him.
God has also made Aaron Moses' prophet, meaning that he gets to do all the hard work and actually accomplish things while Moses sits back, enjoys the praise when things go right, and gets blamed for nothing when they go wrong. Being God is kind of like being George W. Bush, only doesn't have an MBA and is smarter than a fifth grader.
God repeats his plan to harden pharaoh's heart no matter what happens to the Egyptians (did I mention how awful that is?) and sends Reluctant Moses and PR Flack Aaron to meet with pharaoh again and repeat the order to let the Israelites go. Once there, Aaron performs the Rod Into Snake Trick. Pharaoh summons all the magicians of Egypt to duplicate the trick, which, amazingly, they do. But Aaron's snake quickly devours all the other snakes. Take that, magic trick!
On the strength of that one Johnson Smith Company magic trick, pharoah is already willing to concede the fight. Can you believe it? He's already caving and there hasn't even been one plague! But God can't let anyone show compassion--not on his watch--and hardens the pharaoh's heart so he refuses to let the Israelites go. Have I mentioned what a dickey thing that is to do?
God tells Moses to have Aaron meet the Pharaoh by the river the next morning and strike the water with his rod. The river and its tributaries, and all the streams and ponds, and every pool of water, will instantly turn to blood. Every living thing in the waters will die, and all of Egypt will stink of blood.
The pair meet the pharaoh by the river, and Aaron strikes the river with his rod. Instantly the water turns to blood. The pharaoh is unimpressed and simply walks home, thanks to God's little Plaster of Paris for the Soul. The blood water lasts 7 days, and the Egyptians are mighty thirsty. It's a good thing they knew how to make beer or everyone would die of thirst.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Exodus 3, 4
A married and on-the-lam Moses settles into his new life by tending the sheep of his father-in-law Jethro and avoiding murder.
I know what you're thinking, and yes, his father-in-law's real name is Jethro. It's in the Bible. No tooth count is provided, though.
One day, as Moses tends his flock on a mountainside covered in Lophophora williamsii, a bush catches fire but remains whole, despite the roaring flames. Moses denies the vision. "I will now turn aside," Moses says, "and see this great sight, why the bush is not burnt. For I am totally freaking out right now."
The flameless flame is really God, who, noticing that Moses is trying his best to ignore the nonburning burning bush, calls out from the heatless heat. "Marco!" God calls.
"Who said that?" Moses asks. "The Cheetos? Are the Cheetos talking again? I told you already, I didn't kill your brother, little Cheeto! He was already dead when I ate him!"
God hands Moses some oranges and puts on "Casey Jones." "I am the God of thy father," God says. "The God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, and a whole bunch of other people. The list goes on, like, forever, believe me."
Moses hides his face from God. Or at least tries to when his fingers turn to snakes and begin eating his feet. It's a good thing Moses doesn't have a mirror or the rest of the Bible might never have happened.
"I have surely seen the affliction of my people which are in Egypt, and have heard their cry by reason of their taskmasters; for I know their sorrows," God says from the still-there unburned burning bush. "And I am come down to deliver them out of the hand of the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land unto a good land and a large, unto a land flowing with milk and honey."
"OK," Moses says. "Have fun doing all that. With your great power it should be easy. You won't be needing my services, I suppose. Thanks for keeping me up to speed on your plans, though. I appreciate it. Now I just gotta climb into a cocoon and die. Stupid talking flaming bush."
Turns out that God says that he is going to free his people from bondage he means Moses is. Moses is skeptical. "Who am I, that I should go unto Pharaoh, and that I should bring forth the children of Israel out of Egypt?" he asks God.
"Certainly I will be with thee," God says.
"Really?" Moses asks.
"Oh, sure, if take 'with you' to mean a general sense of actually not being right there, then, yeah, totally," God says.
"And what do I get if I do this for you?" Moses asks.
"This shall be a token unto thee, that I have sent thee: When thou hast brought forth the people out of Egypt, ye shall serve God upon this mountain," God says.
"Serve you on Mount Hallucination?" Moses says. "You've got a deal!"
Moses is a practical--if a little trippy--man and wants to know what he should say to the Israelites to make them follow him.
"Thus shalt thou say unto the children of Israel, the LORD God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, hath sent me unto you: this is my name for ever, and this is my memorial unto all generations," God says through the flames that aren't actually flaming. "Go, and gather the elders of Israel together, and say unto them, The LORD God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob, appeared unto me, saying, I have surely visited you, and seen that which is done to you in Egypt: and I have said, I will bring you up out of the affliction of Egypt unto the land of the Canaanites, and the Hittites, and the Amorites, and the Perizzites, and the Hivites, and the Jebusites, unto a land flowing with milk and honey."
"So just promise them some crazy shit that they want to hear and tell them you said it," Moses says. "I can totally do that. Now let me get back to singing rocks. They're doing doo wop covers of Phish songs."
But Moses is kidding. He's still quite concerned that the Israelites won't believe him when he says he spoke to God. Gee, why would anyone doubt a man who said that he spoke to God while he was tending sheep alone atop a mountain? It's a perfectly plausible story.
So God shows Moses a few of magic tricks to impress the Catskills crowd. He instructs Moses to pick up his rod--his shepherd's staff, boyo; this act ain't blue--and cast it on the ground. The staff turns into a snake. God instructs Moses to pick the snake up by the tail; he does, and the snake becomes a rod again.
"If they do not believe you," God says, "put now thine hand into thy bosom." Moses does, and when he extracts it the hand is pure white. Moses repeats the move and the hand returns to normal.
"I am so high," Moses says.
"And it shall come to pass," God says, "if they will not believe also these two signs, neither hearken unto thy voice, that thou shalt take of the water of the river, and pour it upon the dry land: and the water which thou takest out of the river shall become blood upon the dry land."
But Moses is still wary. Turns out he is not eloquent. "But I am slow of speech, and of a slow tongue," Moses says.
"I will be with thy mouth, and teach thee what thou shalt say," God says. I don't know. Sounds kind of kinky to me.
Moses still protests, so God compromises: Aaron, Moses' brother, can be the spokesperson. "And thou shalt speak unto him, and put words in his mouth." God says. "And I will be with thy mouth, and with his mouth, and will teach you what ye shall do." Now it's turned from kinky to freaky.
Moses packs up the wife and kids and moves back to Egypt on his date with destiny. As soon as the peyote wears off, that is.
But here's the unnerving thing: even though God has sent Moses to free the Israelites from bondage, the Big Guy has decided to harden the pharaoh's heart, regardless of what Moses does to the Egyptians. Do you understand the import of this? God is about to visit 10 plagues on the Egyptians--the last one of which murders the first born in every Egyptian family--and even when the pharaoh has had enough and decides to let the Israelites go, God stops him just to keep the plagues coming. Now that's just fucked up.
But before this travesty of a forgone conclusion can get going, Moses has to convince the Israelites of the plan. To do this, Moses convinces Aaron to tell the Israelites all the things God said and to perform God's little magic tricks God. Aaron does, and the Israelites totally buy into it.
"Now," Aaron says. "Who's interested in a lovely bridge in a town called Brooklyn?"
I know what you're thinking, and yes, his father-in-law's real name is Jethro. It's in the Bible. No tooth count is provided, though.
One day, as Moses tends his flock on a mountainside covered in Lophophora williamsii, a bush catches fire but remains whole, despite the roaring flames. Moses denies the vision. "I will now turn aside," Moses says, "and see this great sight, why the bush is not burnt. For I am totally freaking out right now."
The flameless flame is really God, who, noticing that Moses is trying his best to ignore the nonburning burning bush, calls out from the heatless heat. "Marco!" God calls.
"Who said that?" Moses asks. "The Cheetos? Are the Cheetos talking again? I told you already, I didn't kill your brother, little Cheeto! He was already dead when I ate him!"
God hands Moses some oranges and puts on "Casey Jones." "I am the God of thy father," God says. "The God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, and a whole bunch of other people. The list goes on, like, forever, believe me."
Moses hides his face from God. Or at least tries to when his fingers turn to snakes and begin eating his feet. It's a good thing Moses doesn't have a mirror or the rest of the Bible might never have happened.
"I have surely seen the affliction of my people which are in Egypt, and have heard their cry by reason of their taskmasters; for I know their sorrows," God says from the still-there unburned burning bush. "And I am come down to deliver them out of the hand of the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land unto a good land and a large, unto a land flowing with milk and honey."
"OK," Moses says. "Have fun doing all that. With your great power it should be easy. You won't be needing my services, I suppose. Thanks for keeping me up to speed on your plans, though. I appreciate it. Now I just gotta climb into a cocoon and die. Stupid talking flaming bush."
Turns out that God says that he is going to free his people from bondage he means Moses is. Moses is skeptical. "Who am I, that I should go unto Pharaoh, and that I should bring forth the children of Israel out of Egypt?" he asks God.
"Certainly I will be with thee," God says.
"Really?" Moses asks.
"Oh, sure, if take 'with you' to mean a general sense of actually not being right there, then, yeah, totally," God says.
"And what do I get if I do this for you?" Moses asks.
"This shall be a token unto thee, that I have sent thee: When thou hast brought forth the people out of Egypt, ye shall serve God upon this mountain," God says.
"Serve you on Mount Hallucination?" Moses says. "You've got a deal!"
Moses is a practical--if a little trippy--man and wants to know what he should say to the Israelites to make them follow him.
"Thus shalt thou say unto the children of Israel, the LORD God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, hath sent me unto you: this is my name for ever, and this is my memorial unto all generations," God says through the flames that aren't actually flaming. "Go, and gather the elders of Israel together, and say unto them, The LORD God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob, appeared unto me, saying, I have surely visited you, and seen that which is done to you in Egypt: and I have said, I will bring you up out of the affliction of Egypt unto the land of the Canaanites, and the Hittites, and the Amorites, and the Perizzites, and the Hivites, and the Jebusites, unto a land flowing with milk and honey."
"So just promise them some crazy shit that they want to hear and tell them you said it," Moses says. "I can totally do that. Now let me get back to singing rocks. They're doing doo wop covers of Phish songs."
But Moses is kidding. He's still quite concerned that the Israelites won't believe him when he says he spoke to God. Gee, why would anyone doubt a man who said that he spoke to God while he was tending sheep alone atop a mountain? It's a perfectly plausible story.
So God shows Moses a few of magic tricks to impress the Catskills crowd. He instructs Moses to pick up his rod--his shepherd's staff, boyo; this act ain't blue--and cast it on the ground. The staff turns into a snake. God instructs Moses to pick the snake up by the tail; he does, and the snake becomes a rod again.
"If they do not believe you," God says, "put now thine hand into thy bosom." Moses does, and when he extracts it the hand is pure white. Moses repeats the move and the hand returns to normal.
"I am so high," Moses says.
"And it shall come to pass," God says, "if they will not believe also these two signs, neither hearken unto thy voice, that thou shalt take of the water of the river, and pour it upon the dry land: and the water which thou takest out of the river shall become blood upon the dry land."
But Moses is still wary. Turns out he is not eloquent. "But I am slow of speech, and of a slow tongue," Moses says.
"I will be with thy mouth, and teach thee what thou shalt say," God says. I don't know. Sounds kind of kinky to me.
Moses still protests, so God compromises: Aaron, Moses' brother, can be the spokesperson. "And thou shalt speak unto him, and put words in his mouth." God says. "And I will be with thy mouth, and with his mouth, and will teach you what ye shall do." Now it's turned from kinky to freaky.
Moses packs up the wife and kids and moves back to Egypt on his date with destiny. As soon as the peyote wears off, that is.
But here's the unnerving thing: even though God has sent Moses to free the Israelites from bondage, the Big Guy has decided to harden the pharaoh's heart, regardless of what Moses does to the Egyptians. Do you understand the import of this? God is about to visit 10 plagues on the Egyptians--the last one of which murders the first born in every Egyptian family--and even when the pharaoh has had enough and decides to let the Israelites go, God stops him just to keep the plagues coming. Now that's just fucked up.
But before this travesty of a forgone conclusion can get going, Moses has to convince the Israelites of the plan. To do this, Moses convinces Aaron to tell the Israelites all the things God said and to perform God's little magic tricks God. Aaron does, and the Israelites totally buy into it.
"Now," Aaron says. "Who's interested in a lovely bridge in a town called Brooklyn?"
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Exodus 1, 2
After Joseph's death, the Hebrews finally get around to heeding God's command to Adam and Eve to be fruitful and multiply. The pharaoh has a big problem with this development, because, as history has taught us, nations dislike a lot of Hebrews, especially they have the temerity to grow into a mighty nation as the Israelites have.
It appears that the new Pharaoh has a selective memory and has conveniently forgotten about all the wonderful things Joseph did for his predecessor. This means that all the promises the previous pharaoh made to Jacob about keeping his family's land and cattle are null and void. Now, because of his betrayal, pharaoh fears that this fruitful and mighty nation will join with Egypt's enemies to overthrow him. He weighs his diplomatic options--should he open talks with the Israelites, promise them aid in exchange for their loyalty in a time of war, maybe just be nice to them--and decides instead to just enslave them because it's the most expedient. The Israelites are evidently not mighty enough to resist and become a nation forced into servitude.
Slavery, however, doesn't solve the pharaoh's problem. What he really wants to do is kill all the Hebrews, but the local chapter of Amnesty International enforces a strict "no genocide" policy. What's a maniac to do under these conditions? Farm out his dirty work to the poor: he instructs every woman who midwifes to an Israelite to kill all the boys they deliver. The girls the pharaoh lets live, not knowing that Jewishness is traced through the mother. It's a small oversight in an otherwise flawless plan.
What he didn't count on was the midwives' fear of God. As a result, they refuse to kill the boys. Pharaoh can't wrap his headdress around the concept. "Why have ye done this thing, and have saved the men children alive?" he asks them
"Because the Hebrew women are not as the Egyptian women," the midwives lie, "for they are lively, and are delivered ere the midwives come in unto them. And you know how stingy they are. Once they have their clutches on their own children it's hard to pry the little fuckers out."
Incensed, pharaoh hatches another plan to rid himself of the Jewish threat: he instructs everyone in the kingdom to throw newborn males into the river. How this indiscriminate drowning helps the Egyptians is a mystery. Presumably, just as many male Egyptian children as Israeli children will be killed; in geopolitical terms that's called a "draw."
However, a nameless couple have a boy and unbelievably opt not to throw him in the river; they instead hide him for 3 months. When the stench of the 90 days worth of diapers becomes too strong to hide any longer they realize they must get rid of their forbidden son. They place the boy in a small basket at the river's edge and have their daughter watch from some distance to see what will happen.
The pharaoh's daughter traipses by with her entourage and discovers the boy, whom she immediately recognizes as a Hebrew. I'm assuming it's because the boy is circumcised, but it might be the dreidel-shaped rattle or his hook nose and green blood. She decides to keep the boy, not realizing that her father will most likely drown the thing as soon as he sees it just do keep up appearances.
Sensing an opportunity, the boy's sister rushes to the pharaoh's daughter and asks if she should go and find a Hebrew to nurse the baby. The pharaoh's daughter agrees. And who does the sister get to nurse the baby? Her own mother, who, you may recall, is also the baby's mother. See how these things work out for the best when you believe in God? One minute you're leaving your baby in a wicker basket in a river and the next your acting as a wet nurse for the pharaoh's daughter. Does life get any better than that?
The boy grows up and is brought to the pharaoh's daughter, who raises him as her son now that all the hard work has been done by someone else. She calls him Moses because she secretly hates him.
As a young man, Moses witnesses an Egyptian kill a Hebrew. He feels a kinship with the smited man and in turn kills the Egyptian and hides the body in the sand. No word on what happen to the Hebrew corpse. Evidently a dead Hebrew lying in the street doesn't cause a scene.
Even though there were no witnesses to either slaying, the pharaoh hears of Moses' crime and puts a hit on him. Moses runs to Vegas, lays low a while, then moves to Midian. One day at a well, the 7 daughters of the high priest of Midian come to fill their troughs and are pushed aside by some greedy shepherds. Moses does nothing to prevent the assault but helps the girls up and then waters their flock. I'm assuming it's not a euphemism and Moses actually gave water to thirsty animals. With the Bible you never really know.
The girls tell their dad of Moses' near-chivalrous behavior and he rewards Moses by giving him one of the girls, Zipporah, for a wife. They have a son, whom they name Bic.
Soon after, the pharoah dies. The Israelites heave a collective sigh of relief, for they believe freedom is near. Not so fast, Israelites! Chapter 3 is coming right up!
It appears that the new Pharaoh has a selective memory and has conveniently forgotten about all the wonderful things Joseph did for his predecessor. This means that all the promises the previous pharaoh made to Jacob about keeping his family's land and cattle are null and void. Now, because of his betrayal, pharaoh fears that this fruitful and mighty nation will join with Egypt's enemies to overthrow him. He weighs his diplomatic options--should he open talks with the Israelites, promise them aid in exchange for their loyalty in a time of war, maybe just be nice to them--and decides instead to just enslave them because it's the most expedient. The Israelites are evidently not mighty enough to resist and become a nation forced into servitude.
Slavery, however, doesn't solve the pharaoh's problem. What he really wants to do is kill all the Hebrews, but the local chapter of Amnesty International enforces a strict "no genocide" policy. What's a maniac to do under these conditions? Farm out his dirty work to the poor: he instructs every woman who midwifes to an Israelite to kill all the boys they deliver. The girls the pharaoh lets live, not knowing that Jewishness is traced through the mother. It's a small oversight in an otherwise flawless plan.
What he didn't count on was the midwives' fear of God. As a result, they refuse to kill the boys. Pharaoh can't wrap his headdress around the concept. "Why have ye done this thing, and have saved the men children alive?" he asks them
"Because the Hebrew women are not as the Egyptian women," the midwives lie, "for they are lively, and are delivered ere the midwives come in unto them. And you know how stingy they are. Once they have their clutches on their own children it's hard to pry the little fuckers out."
Incensed, pharaoh hatches another plan to rid himself of the Jewish threat: he instructs everyone in the kingdom to throw newborn males into the river. How this indiscriminate drowning helps the Egyptians is a mystery. Presumably, just as many male Egyptian children as Israeli children will be killed; in geopolitical terms that's called a "draw."
However, a nameless couple have a boy and unbelievably opt not to throw him in the river; they instead hide him for 3 months. When the stench of the 90 days worth of diapers becomes too strong to hide any longer they realize they must get rid of their forbidden son. They place the boy in a small basket at the river's edge and have their daughter watch from some distance to see what will happen.
The pharaoh's daughter traipses by with her entourage and discovers the boy, whom she immediately recognizes as a Hebrew. I'm assuming it's because the boy is circumcised, but it might be the dreidel-shaped rattle or his hook nose and green blood. She decides to keep the boy, not realizing that her father will most likely drown the thing as soon as he sees it just do keep up appearances.
Sensing an opportunity, the boy's sister rushes to the pharaoh's daughter and asks if she should go and find a Hebrew to nurse the baby. The pharaoh's daughter agrees. And who does the sister get to nurse the baby? Her own mother, who, you may recall, is also the baby's mother. See how these things work out for the best when you believe in God? One minute you're leaving your baby in a wicker basket in a river and the next your acting as a wet nurse for the pharaoh's daughter. Does life get any better than that?
The boy grows up and is brought to the pharaoh's daughter, who raises him as her son now that all the hard work has been done by someone else. She calls him Moses because she secretly hates him.
As a young man, Moses witnesses an Egyptian kill a Hebrew. He feels a kinship with the smited man and in turn kills the Egyptian and hides the body in the sand. No word on what happen to the Hebrew corpse. Evidently a dead Hebrew lying in the street doesn't cause a scene.
Even though there were no witnesses to either slaying, the pharaoh hears of Moses' crime and puts a hit on him. Moses runs to Vegas, lays low a while, then moves to Midian. One day at a well, the 7 daughters of the high priest of Midian come to fill their troughs and are pushed aside by some greedy shepherds. Moses does nothing to prevent the assault but helps the girls up and then waters their flock. I'm assuming it's not a euphemism and Moses actually gave water to thirsty animals. With the Bible you never really know.
The girls tell their dad of Moses' near-chivalrous behavior and he rewards Moses by giving him one of the girls, Zipporah, for a wife. They have a son, whom they name Bic.
Soon after, the pharoah dies. The Israelites heave a collective sigh of relief, for they believe freedom is near. Not so fast, Israelites! Chapter 3 is coming right up!
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Genesis: What Have We Learned? Absolutely Nothing
I have finally finished blogging about Genesis. All I can say is what a drag, man, what a drag.
Reading the Bible is like passing a kidney stone: a curiosity when someone else does it, outright painful when you do. Maybe it's just the King James Version translation, but the Bible is so poorly written it makes the Da Vinci Code seem like it was written by Da Vinci himself. It's boring, repetitive, and mendacious. It's excremental.
I can't appreciate the Bible as the great work of literature it supposedly is. Maybe some critics mistake its sheer length for artistic merit. If that's the case, I'd like to show them my 2 thousand-page novel, The Run-On Sentence. It's really, rally good. Believe me.
The writing is a mess. There are never any concrete details, people and places come and go in the space of 2 paragraphs without any reason given as to why they were even mentioned, and plot lines are dropped as soon as they are introduced, usually for something as equally baffling and uninteresting. The characters are unsympathetic. Everyone acts like a total prick, especially if land, cattle, or women are involved. The reprehensible behavior exhibited by every major character makes me ashamed to be a human. And these men are held in high esteem for acting this way! No wonder religion is so fucked up. Genesis just plain sucks.
Reading it, I marvel at the suspension of disbelief that goes into religious conviction. Far from being divinely inspired, Genesis reads like an urban legend your gullible aunt would email you. What's immediately apparent is that while events are often attributed to God, it's the people who do all the damage. God comes to the actors in a dream or some other hallucinogenic form and they just go crazy and start killing people--Genesis does occur before the Ten Commandments were written, so I guess they have an excuse--or trading their daughters to their first cousins for some goats. Except for Lot's wife being turned into a pillar of salt, every event is easily and completely explained in rational ways. And truthfully, I'm sure there's a precedent for the salt thing.
So why am I still still reading the KJV? Because there's been a lot more incest than I expected, and I can only imagine what surprises the other books hold.
For those of you who are just joining this blog and don't want to read all the posts so far, allow me hit Genesis' high points.
God created everything in the universe, then toggles the reset switch, blows into the cartridge a few times, and starts the game all over again. He creates a garden for Adam and Eve and requests that they do not eat of its fruit. They do. Personally, I think God should have seen that one coming, being omnipotent and all.
A and E have a kid who's a real asshole, then God floods the world to punish the human race's inequity. Things eventually dry out and a new, classier form of inequity takes root.
Abraham comes on the scene. Old Abe does some funky shit, including, but not limited to, telling everyone his wife is his sister and marrying her off someone else--twice, if you can believe it. And he's the guy responsible for circumcision. That Abraham. He was the life of the party, as long as you could keep him away from your wife and your penis.
Lot offers to give his two daughters to a murderous mob so they won't attack two strangers pretending to be angels he allowed into his house. For some reason his wife is turned to salt and not him.
Jacob gets plenty of pussy. His sons conspire to kill their youngest brother, Joseph, but instead sell him into slavery. Joseph can interpret dreams, so he become indispensable to the superstitious retards who believe in God to begin with. Famine hits, Joe gets his revenge, and end scene.
Up next: Exodus, Bob Marley's favorite book of the Bible.
Reading the Bible is like passing a kidney stone: a curiosity when someone else does it, outright painful when you do. Maybe it's just the King James Version translation, but the Bible is so poorly written it makes the Da Vinci Code seem like it was written by Da Vinci himself. It's boring, repetitive, and mendacious. It's excremental.
I can't appreciate the Bible as the great work of literature it supposedly is. Maybe some critics mistake its sheer length for artistic merit. If that's the case, I'd like to show them my 2 thousand-page novel, The Run-On Sentence. It's really, rally good. Believe me.
The writing is a mess. There are never any concrete details, people and places come and go in the space of 2 paragraphs without any reason given as to why they were even mentioned, and plot lines are dropped as soon as they are introduced, usually for something as equally baffling and uninteresting. The characters are unsympathetic. Everyone acts like a total prick, especially if land, cattle, or women are involved. The reprehensible behavior exhibited by every major character makes me ashamed to be a human. And these men are held in high esteem for acting this way! No wonder religion is so fucked up. Genesis just plain sucks.
Reading it, I marvel at the suspension of disbelief that goes into religious conviction. Far from being divinely inspired, Genesis reads like an urban legend your gullible aunt would email you. What's immediately apparent is that while events are often attributed to God, it's the people who do all the damage. God comes to the actors in a dream or some other hallucinogenic form and they just go crazy and start killing people--Genesis does occur before the Ten Commandments were written, so I guess they have an excuse--or trading their daughters to their first cousins for some goats. Except for Lot's wife being turned into a pillar of salt, every event is easily and completely explained in rational ways. And truthfully, I'm sure there's a precedent for the salt thing.
So why am I still still reading the KJV? Because there's been a lot more incest than I expected, and I can only imagine what surprises the other books hold.
For those of you who are just joining this blog and don't want to read all the posts so far, allow me hit Genesis' high points.
God created everything in the universe, then toggles the reset switch, blows into the cartridge a few times, and starts the game all over again. He creates a garden for Adam and Eve and requests that they do not eat of its fruit. They do. Personally, I think God should have seen that one coming, being omnipotent and all.
A and E have a kid who's a real asshole, then God floods the world to punish the human race's inequity. Things eventually dry out and a new, classier form of inequity takes root.
Abraham comes on the scene. Old Abe does some funky shit, including, but not limited to, telling everyone his wife is his sister and marrying her off someone else--twice, if you can believe it. And he's the guy responsible for circumcision. That Abraham. He was the life of the party, as long as you could keep him away from your wife and your penis.
Lot offers to give his two daughters to a murderous mob so they won't attack two strangers pretending to be angels he allowed into his house. For some reason his wife is turned to salt and not him.
Jacob gets plenty of pussy. His sons conspire to kill their youngest brother, Joseph, but instead sell him into slavery. Joseph can interpret dreams, so he become indispensable to the superstitious retards who believe in God to begin with. Famine hits, Joe gets his revenge, and end scene.
Up next: Exodus, Bob Marley's favorite book of the Bible.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Genesis 48, 49, 50
And Then There Were 12
Jacob feels his kidneys failing, so he meets with Joseph to divulge the family recipe for Abraham's Caramel Oatmeal Cookie Surprise.
Jacob proceeds to bore the hell out of Joseph with the same old story about how God blessed him and his descendants and blah blah blah. Joseph listens patiently but wants to get down to business: having Jacob bless his two sons, Ephraim and Manasseh. I mean there's only so much the boys can achieve being the sons of the pharaoh's right-hand man with untold riches, limitless power, and scores of servants tripping over each other to satisfy thier every wish. They need Jacob's blessing.
The boys come before Jacob, who places his hands on their heads and pushes Ephraim toward his dick and Manasseh toward his balls. Joseph is incensed. "Not so, my father," Joseph says. "For Manasseh is the firstborn; he should be at the knob. Ephraim is the younger, and should be at the sack."
Jacob demurs. "I know it, my son, I know it," he says. "Manasseh also shall become a people, and he also shall be great: but truly his younger brother shall be greater than he, and his seed shall become a multitude of nations. Right after my seed, that is"
Powerless to counter perfect logic, Joseph acquiesces.
Still dying, Jacob calls his remaining sons to him and tells them their fortunes, much in the manner of a daily syndicated horoscope in your local newspaper.
"Reuben, thou art my firstborn, my might," Jacob says. "Unstable as water, thou shalt not excel; because thou wentest up to thy father's bed; then defiledst thou it: he went up to my couch." Yeah, I don't know what he's talking about either, but it sounds rather sordid.
"Simeon and Levi are brethren; instruments of cruelty are in their habitations.
"Judah, thou art he whom thy brethren shall praise: thy hand shall be in the neck of thine enemies; thy father's children shall bow down before thee.
"Zebulun shall dwell at the haven of the sea; and he shall be for an haven of ships; and his border shall be unto Zidon.
"Issachar is a strong ass couching down between two burdens." That sounds a bit gay.
"Dan," Jacob continues, "shall be a serpent by the way, an adder in the path, that biteth the horse heels, so that his rider shall fall backward.
"Gad, a troop shall overcome him: but he shall overcome at the last.
"Out of Asher his bread shall be fat, and he shall yield royal dainties.
"Naphtali is a hind let loose: he giveth goodly words.
"Joseph is a fruitful bough, even a fruitful bough by a well; whose branches run over the wall.
"Benjamin shall ravin as a wolf: in the morning he shall devour the prey, and at night he shall divide the spoil."
Whew! That's the twelve tribes of Israel, folks. Great leaders one and all. It won't be long before a homeland is theirs and there is peace in the Middle East.
Jacob then wakes his sons and asks to be buried where Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah, his wife Leah, and Jim Morrison are buried. (The Soft Parade is one of his favorite albums.)
Joseph cries and cries and cries on his father's corpse, and the pharaoh gives him permission to travel to Canaan to bury Jacob and meet with Oprah for a change to cry on national television. Joseph then invents the bagpipes to both give his father a good send-off and annoy the shit out of his brothers and anyone else within earshot.
After the funeral, the brothers realize that now that Jacob's gone, there is nothing stopping Joseph from killing them all as revenge for the crimes they committed against him. Hoping to avoid justice, they remind Joseph that he promised Jacob not to harm them.
"Fear not: for am I in the place of God?," Joseph asks. "But as for you, ye thought evil against me; but God meant it unto good, to bring to pass, as it is this day, to save much people alive. And to eat the ass of my jailer just to survive. But I'm not bitter. Really."
Joseph keeps his promises, and when he's 110 years old he dies. His brothers immediately play 1-1-0 in the pick 3, hoping to make money off him one last time.
Jacob feels his kidneys failing, so he meets with Joseph to divulge the family recipe for Abraham's Caramel Oatmeal Cookie Surprise.
Jacob proceeds to bore the hell out of Joseph with the same old story about how God blessed him and his descendants and blah blah blah. Joseph listens patiently but wants to get down to business: having Jacob bless his two sons, Ephraim and Manasseh. I mean there's only so much the boys can achieve being the sons of the pharaoh's right-hand man with untold riches, limitless power, and scores of servants tripping over each other to satisfy thier every wish. They need Jacob's blessing.
The boys come before Jacob, who places his hands on their heads and pushes Ephraim toward his dick and Manasseh toward his balls. Joseph is incensed. "Not so, my father," Joseph says. "For Manasseh is the firstborn; he should be at the knob. Ephraim is the younger, and should be at the sack."
Jacob demurs. "I know it, my son, I know it," he says. "Manasseh also shall become a people, and he also shall be great: but truly his younger brother shall be greater than he, and his seed shall become a multitude of nations. Right after my seed, that is"
Powerless to counter perfect logic, Joseph acquiesces.
Still dying, Jacob calls his remaining sons to him and tells them their fortunes, much in the manner of a daily syndicated horoscope in your local newspaper.
"Reuben, thou art my firstborn, my might," Jacob says. "Unstable as water, thou shalt not excel; because thou wentest up to thy father's bed; then defiledst thou it: he went up to my couch." Yeah, I don't know what he's talking about either, but it sounds rather sordid.
"Simeon and Levi are brethren; instruments of cruelty are in their habitations.
"Judah, thou art he whom thy brethren shall praise: thy hand shall be in the neck of thine enemies; thy father's children shall bow down before thee.
"Zebulun shall dwell at the haven of the sea; and he shall be for an haven of ships; and his border shall be unto Zidon.
"Issachar is a strong ass couching down between two burdens." That sounds a bit gay.
"Dan," Jacob continues, "shall be a serpent by the way, an adder in the path, that biteth the horse heels, so that his rider shall fall backward.
"Gad, a troop shall overcome him: but he shall overcome at the last.
"Out of Asher his bread shall be fat, and he shall yield royal dainties.
"Naphtali is a hind let loose: he giveth goodly words.
"Joseph is a fruitful bough, even a fruitful bough by a well; whose branches run over the wall.
"Benjamin shall ravin as a wolf: in the morning he shall devour the prey, and at night he shall divide the spoil."
Whew! That's the twelve tribes of Israel, folks. Great leaders one and all. It won't be long before a homeland is theirs and there is peace in the Middle East.
Jacob then wakes his sons and asks to be buried where Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah, his wife Leah, and Jim Morrison are buried. (The Soft Parade is one of his favorite albums.)
Joseph cries and cries and cries on his father's corpse, and the pharaoh gives him permission to travel to Canaan to bury Jacob and meet with Oprah for a change to cry on national television. Joseph then invents the bagpipes to both give his father a good send-off and annoy the shit out of his brothers and anyone else within earshot.
After the funeral, the brothers realize that now that Jacob's gone, there is nothing stopping Joseph from killing them all as revenge for the crimes they committed against him. Hoping to avoid justice, they remind Joseph that he promised Jacob not to harm them.
"Fear not: for am I in the place of God?," Joseph asks. "But as for you, ye thought evil against me; but God meant it unto good, to bring to pass, as it is this day, to save much people alive. And to eat the ass of my jailer just to survive. But I'm not bitter. Really."
Joseph keeps his promises, and when he's 110 years old he dies. His brothers immediately play 1-1-0 in the pick 3, hoping to make money off him one last time.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Genesis 46, 47
Before Jacob heads to the reunion with Joseph, God visits him in a dream. God is always doing that: visiting people in dreams. It's a wonder that God isn't described more often as being a unicorn.
"I am God," God says unnecessarily. "The God of thy father: fear not to go down into Egypt; for I will there make of thee a great nation."
"I have a question, Lord," Jacob asks. "You know what's going to happen in the future, right?"
"I do," God says.
"Just checking. Because I skipped ahead in this book and believe me, it isn't pretty."
Jacob gathers all of his belongings and his descendants--66 in all--and makes his way to Egypt. His reunion with Joseph is tearful one. That Joseph is one weepy bitch, let me tell ya. As soon as Jacob enters the room, Joseph is weeping on his neck. I think he needs Zoloft.
"Now let me die, since I have seen thy face, because thou art yet alive," Jacob says. That Jacob is happy to die now that he finally has time to spend with his long-lost son speaks volumes about the strength of their relationship.
Joseph sets aside some land in Goshen for his father and brothers, but it comes with one odd stipulation: they must lie and tell pharaoh that they raise cattle and not sheep. "Every shepherd is an abomination unto the Egyptians," Joseph says. "It's the sheep fucking thing. Grosses the Egyptians out big time.
Yet when they meet with the pharaoh they readily admit to their evil sheep-fucking ways. Pharaoh is unconcerned and puts them in charge of his cattle as a favor to Joseph and so they won't be so abominable. They're still abominable though, being Jewish and all, but raising cattle will mean no one will spit on them as they walk by.
Pharaoh then violates one Miss Manners's rules and asks Jacob his age.
"The days of the years of my pilgrimage are an hundred and thirty years," Jacob says. "Few and evil have the days of the years of my life been, and have not attained unto the days of the years of the life of my fathers in the days of their pilgrimage."
Pharaoh is silent. Then says, "What?"
"I'm old," Jacob says. "I'm really, really old."
Famine continues to rage throughout the land. Due to some unwise investments in some Internet startups, all the money pharaoh has made selling corn to his own people is suddenly worthless. The people come to Joseph demanding bread, but they cannot pay for it because the stock market took such a nose dive. Joseph comes up the kind of seemingly fair and equitable deal only a bleeding-heart capitalist would think up: he will give bread to the people for a whole year if they give to him all their cattle, horses, birds, and horses.
"Why don't we just eat all these animals instead of trading them for some bread?" someone in the crowd pipes up.
"Shut up," someone else says. "He's an unelected government official with unlimited power. He must have our best interests at heart."
The year passes and the people approach Joseph again. Desperate for food and aware of the bad deal they struck last time, they decide to cut out the middleman and screws themselves over. "My lord also hath our herds of cattle," they say. "There is not ought left in the sight of my lord, but our bodies, and our lands. Buy us and our land for bread, and we and our land will be servants unto Pharaoh."
"Sold!" Joseph shouts.
Is anyone exempt from the mass sell out? Oh yeah. The priests. And Jacob and his family, out there in Goshen. Figures.
Adding insult to injury, Joseph makes the people sow the land that is no longer theirs and render unto pharaoh a fifth of the yield. Not that there's much yielding going on, what with the devastating famine and all, a detail that somehow escaped the author.
In a complete non sequitur, Jacob decides it's time to die. "If now I have found grace in thy sight," Jacob says, "put, I pray thee, thy hand under my thigh, and deal kindly and truly with me." And just like Abraham did to his servant, Jacob farts of Joseph's hand.
"And one more thing," Jacob gasps.
"Anything, father," Joseph says.
"Pull my finger."
"I am God," God says unnecessarily. "The God of thy father: fear not to go down into Egypt; for I will there make of thee a great nation."
"I have a question, Lord," Jacob asks. "You know what's going to happen in the future, right?"
"I do," God says.
"Just checking. Because I skipped ahead in this book and believe me, it isn't pretty."
Jacob gathers all of his belongings and his descendants--66 in all--and makes his way to Egypt. His reunion with Joseph is tearful one. That Joseph is one weepy bitch, let me tell ya. As soon as Jacob enters the room, Joseph is weeping on his neck. I think he needs Zoloft.
"Now let me die, since I have seen thy face, because thou art yet alive," Jacob says. That Jacob is happy to die now that he finally has time to spend with his long-lost son speaks volumes about the strength of their relationship.
Joseph sets aside some land in Goshen for his father and brothers, but it comes with one odd stipulation: they must lie and tell pharaoh that they raise cattle and not sheep. "Every shepherd is an abomination unto the Egyptians," Joseph says. "It's the sheep fucking thing. Grosses the Egyptians out big time.
Yet when they meet with the pharaoh they readily admit to their evil sheep-fucking ways. Pharaoh is unconcerned and puts them in charge of his cattle as a favor to Joseph and so they won't be so abominable. They're still abominable though, being Jewish and all, but raising cattle will mean no one will spit on them as they walk by.
Pharaoh then violates one Miss Manners's rules and asks Jacob his age.
"The days of the years of my pilgrimage are an hundred and thirty years," Jacob says. "Few and evil have the days of the years of my life been, and have not attained unto the days of the years of the life of my fathers in the days of their pilgrimage."
Pharaoh is silent. Then says, "What?"
"I'm old," Jacob says. "I'm really, really old."
Famine continues to rage throughout the land. Due to some unwise investments in some Internet startups, all the money pharaoh has made selling corn to his own people is suddenly worthless. The people come to Joseph demanding bread, but they cannot pay for it because the stock market took such a nose dive. Joseph comes up the kind of seemingly fair and equitable deal only a bleeding-heart capitalist would think up: he will give bread to the people for a whole year if they give to him all their cattle, horses, birds, and horses.
"Why don't we just eat all these animals instead of trading them for some bread?" someone in the crowd pipes up.
"Shut up," someone else says. "He's an unelected government official with unlimited power. He must have our best interests at heart."
The year passes and the people approach Joseph again. Desperate for food and aware of the bad deal they struck last time, they decide to cut out the middleman and screws themselves over. "My lord also hath our herds of cattle," they say. "There is not ought left in the sight of my lord, but our bodies, and our lands. Buy us and our land for bread, and we and our land will be servants unto Pharaoh."
"Sold!" Joseph shouts.
Is anyone exempt from the mass sell out? Oh yeah. The priests. And Jacob and his family, out there in Goshen. Figures.
Adding insult to injury, Joseph makes the people sow the land that is no longer theirs and render unto pharaoh a fifth of the yield. Not that there's much yielding going on, what with the devastating famine and all, a detail that somehow escaped the author.
In a complete non sequitur, Jacob decides it's time to die. "If now I have found grace in thy sight," Jacob says, "put, I pray thee, thy hand under my thigh, and deal kindly and truly with me." And just like Abraham did to his servant, Jacob farts of Joseph's hand.
"And one more thing," Jacob gasps.
"Anything, father," Joseph says.
"Pull my finger."
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