Our Lord – Oh Lord – Not So Much

I’m walking across Madison last night toward Union Station, when I see it: The late afternoon sun shining through a glorious crimson banner flying high just beyond the bridge.

Breathtaking.

A marketing blitz for Spamalot, I think. What fun.

Approaching, I realized: Not so much.

Standing beneath the flag were several serious-looking men wearing matching red vests emblazoned – because emblazoned is the only way to properly describe the gold lettering on this sort of accoutrement – with “Tradition, Family, Property.”

They were passing out pamphlets.
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Confession: I was in Steinberg’s column again yesterday.

It’s pathetic and fun all at once.

Pathetic because it seems it’s the only way I’ll be seeing my name in print.

And fun, well, for the same reason: My name is in print.
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Steinberg is the guy I wanted to be when I grew up.

“You wanted to be a short Jewish dude with a receding hairline?”

No. I wanted to be an insightful and sarcastic columnist for the Chicago Sun-Times.

Except I didn’t figure that out until the ripe old age of 30. I’m a bit of a late bloomer.

So I satisfy this inane lust for fame in the twilight of my life by sending Steinberg the occasional quip.

And pushing out this daily blog for a scattered yet appreciative following.
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Speaking of late bloomers, those red-vested shmos were handing out pamphlets about the quintessential late bloomer: Jesus.

I had to laugh reading it.

“Real Americans are rejecting The Da Vinci Code.”

Under that: “Rejecting The Da Vinci Code – How a Blasphemous Novel Brutally Attacks Our Lord and the Catholic Church.”
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Real Americans? Could we define that?

Real Americans are not the hate-mongering ass-hats who are hell-bent on homogenizing this country while denying others (gays and immigrants, to name a few) the rights they enjoy so thoroughly.

Real Americans are not necessarily Christian. They’re Muslim and Jewish and Atheist. And don’t forget the blessed Turnip Worshippers.

Real Americans are people who truly understand the responsibility that comes with a powerful document like the Bill of Rights.
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Let’s say for a minute that I’m a hardcore Jesus Freak.

A Born Again Believer. Faithful to the core.

[Editorial note: this could be challenging for those of you who’ve had the joy of knowing me even slightly. So close your eyes and think of the actual Hardcore Jesus Freak in your life (because we all have at least one, God bless ‘em) and then imagine their face on my body. Did it work? I didn’t think so. But gee, wasn’t it fun picturing these freakish boobs on someone so saintly?]

A digression. Sorry.

If I believe with my Whole Heart and Soul everything that Jesus did and said, then why the loving fuck should I care what some fictional adventure novel has to say?
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Back at the pamphlet: I categorically dismiss the word blasphemous and anyone who uses it. The same goes for the word sin or any of its derivations.

Don’t trust people who use those words.

Folks who use those words have an unhealthy preoccupation with the transgressions of others.

Trust me.
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The biggest crack up was “Brutally Attacks Our Lord.”

First, all the brutal attacking happened 2000+ years ago.

Your Lord is long past the point of feeling any pain.

If Jesus truly is who you believe he is then there’s nothing in Heaven and certainly not on Earth that can threaten that.

Right?
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“But it’s insulting! This concept that Jesus married that whore Mary Magdelene and fathered children and didn’t die on the cross! Blasphemer!”

Your Lord doesn’t need you to defend Him. He needs you to quietly follow his teachings and be kind and stop waving giant flags while pushing ideological bullshit on others.
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Love others as yourself. That’s what Jesus said.

Does it really make a difference if he was married? Or to whom?

Does that change the message?

Not so much.
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I am listening to: Songs about angels
I am reading: Nothing
And I am: Blasphemous and pathetic, but having fun.