I Dream Of Blogging


by James Killough

I don’t know if other blogueurs do this, but I dream sometimes about my daily post, and I’m so utterly convinced it’s what I should write about that I sit up in bed and try to make myself remember.  More than a couple of posts so far have been written in the middle of the night with a pen and a notebook by my side.

I should have dreamed about Ashton Kutcher instead. I should only dream of Ashton Kutcher.

I know that last night I dreamed about director Marcus Nispel, I guy I wrote for and developed films with for a couple of years at the turn of this century.  I dreamed I should blog about Marcus and commercials, and the whole thing was brilliant when I was dreaming about it, except not having kept paper and pen by my bed I don’t remember how to reconstruct that brilliance. 

Jesus Christ, Super Slut


by Eric J Baker

How many Christians, if given the chance, would nail Jesus Christ? And I don’t mean “to the cross.”

Now that I’ve got one foot in Hell, I’ll continue: Lust is a sin (despite God installing lust software in every one of us and it being necessary for the survival of our species). That’s why we have Jesus. For that pure, perfect, sexless love we’ve all been yearning for.

Sorry, but I call “Bullshit.”

After raising our readers' expectations, we couldn't lead with one of the art history lesson images Baker selected, so we dipped into Google with "jesus naked" and found a picture of Grandma posing in front of boy toy Jesus Luz for W. Look, she's wearing a cross. She also looks like she's about to puke.

If you’ll permit me to be metaphorical for a moment, I will tell you that a river flows. You can divert it or dam it (ooh, double meaning inside my metaphor. I am clever!), but you can’t stop it. All that water has to go somewhere.