Archive for March, 2007


An Open Letter to Jesus

The Ten CommandmentsHey Jeez,

It’s me, Moses. Yeah, I know; you haven’t really heard from me since the condolence card in 33 A.D. What can I say? I’ve been busy.

Somebody‘s got to enforce a basic moral code on society. Yeah, yeah, your material’s okay, but to be honest, I was never that big a fan of it. Do unto others? Come on man, you know as well as I do that only works in gradeschool, and maybe swinger parties. I mean, you put a bunch of perverts in a room together, the golden rule is going to leave them a hell of a lot of leeway for sinning.

Look, man. I’m sorry. I didn’t write this letter to bust your balls about whether or not “turning the other cheek” would work against a gang of angry and disenfranchised Puerto Ricans. It wouldn’t. That’s not the point.

I guess it’s the time of year that sort of gets to me. I mean, every year it’s the same thing. Here’s my big moment to shine. Passover. Freeing the slaves; freeing my people from bondage. Shit, I’m like Abe Lincoln, only thirty-two hundred years earlier and with a way more kickass beard. In retrospect, it’s lucky his mother named him Abraham, and not Moses, or I totally could have sued his ass.

Anyway, here I am…geared up to see some Angel of Death action, gettin’ out the lamb’s blood, got my big staff ready to split me some sea, and boom. You fly in on your rocket-powered cross, arms spread out like a rock idol, oozing with victimization. There’s not a dry eye in the house. And just when you got ’em, you rise from the dead. I gotta give it to you, Lamb of God, it´s a big, big show. But damn, you know? What’s a guy supposed to do? I mean, rivers of blood, locusts, boils, frogs hopping all over the place. Shit, it’s raining fucking fire. The production values are through the roof, but a couple of planks of wood, some nails and a loincloth, and you got them all spellbound. I don’t get it. Continue reading ‘An Open Letter to Jesus’


Are All These Gold Coins Worth All this Suffering?

Mario stopped to consider what had just occurred. He breathed in. Ever so slowly, he looked down towards his feet. He stopped. He looked up. He breathed in. Goddamn it, it was true. It was for real, now.

He was standing in a pile of brains and entrails.

It wasn’t the fact that the dog had come towards him—he’d seen dogs before; he had petted dogs before. It wasn’t the strange appearance of the animal: short, brown, fungus shaped, and walking in such a way that only two legs were visible. It wasn’t even the smell—Mario was from New Jersey. There was something strange about the way it moved…almost as if it had no conscience—no purpose—other than to walk eternally and aimlessly in a straight line.

The creature appeared to be unaware of Mario’s presence, but, try as he might, Mario found himself unable to circumvent it to the left or the right. Well, Mario thought, the animal’s going to see me here and move along. The creature continued to approach him, looking distantly away from him yet shuffling directly toward his proximity. Mario jumped several times, hoping to get the creature’s attention, or to at least startle it away, but the creature’s ghostly stare continued unfazed—it was still approaching.

It became quite clear to Mario that this creature was not natural. It was no dog, either, as its flesh appeared to be iridescent, with an almost gelatinous glaze. Mario began to feel disgust and hatred toward the animal—he wished that it would simply go away and no longer block his path, but the more Mario moved, the more squarely in front of him the animal appeared to be. Shit, Mario thought. Here it is now…Christ…directly in front…closing in…just feet away.

And Mario leapt into the air. Continue reading ‘Are All These Gold Coins Worth All this Suffering?’