Friday, March 25, 2005

Bad Friday

No Friday that I have to work can be called “Good.” The streets are packed, classrooms full, and I don’t know of a single person here who actually got the day off. Atlanta is obviously a heathen community. Normally I appreciate that, but not when I miss out on a paid holiday. I’ll take a day of free pay in anyone’s name: god, Hitler, Pee-Wee Herman, whoever. At least the workday is almost half dead. I’ll soon be at home writing, reading, drinking beer, and eating chocolate eggs.

BTW, this day commemorates the day the xtian man-god got nailed to a couple of pieces of wood. Why is that considered a “Good” day in their cult? Shouldn’t this be Holy Freakin’ Crap Friday to them? I think all true xtians should go to work lugging a cross, the size/weight of the crucifix providing testament of their faith. Giant ironwood cross digging into your shoulder = free pass to heaven. Shiny lapel pin = infidel wuss.

This reminds me. Once, when I lived in the cruddy little town of Griffin, GA, I passed a large procession, comprised of at least fifty teens and young adults, who were identically dressed – white sneakers (no scuff marks evident), blue sweat pants, and white t-shirts with a red and blue logo I couldn’t identify while driving. Some of the couples pushed baby strollers with identical colors (blue with white wheels and the same logo). The boy in front schlepped a lightweight wooden cross as the others followed in reverence. When I passed, I noticed that the base of the crucifix was attached to a rolling platform to ease his passage. Why didn’t they think of that in jesus’s time? It’s like they wanted him to suffer. :p

Crucify, out

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