“And he commanded the clouds from above and the doors of Heaven were open. Le Clown set one foot in, and the Lord’s trolls devoured him alive, make-up and red plastic nose.”
Le Clown Bible - Psalm 78:23.
Writing about a White Jesus on Palm Sunday doesn’t make you friends on the blogosphere. God and bloggers are tight ["Lord Evil Poppy... There's no way... I am NOT going to Hell. Hell is you, said Sartre, quote, end quote"...]. Readers, allow me to repent.
Repentance #1: Jesus, You’re a Cool Cat
Admittedly, I’m a PC. My wife often says: “Le Clown, you’re always wrong; you’re old, and only MAC people are cool. ” White Baby Jesus, although they say you’ve created me, I’m not hipster enough to see what a cool cat you are. But you know that, of course.
Repentance #2: I will buy myself out of Purgatory
White Baby Jesus, I was raised a Christian, and before I’ve abandoned you, the good Catholic boy that I was studied God’s Word, in French (it was the best I could do). And I know that for the right price, I can buy myself out of Hell. Nothing like a quick visit at the corner church and a few light
paying prayer candles to bring me back on your good side.
Repentance #3: I will build an army against False Idols
Fuck Twilight. Fuck Bella, and Edward. Those aren’t gods! I refuse to embrace Edward as our new White Baby Jesus when it’s obviously Sam Beam, even if legions of middle-aged women build shrines and masterbate on this teenage boy vampire. Fuck the False Idol… just not literally!
[Never have I seen Lord Evil Poppy so silent, so content, so sure of herself. Her Latin thoughts are loud and clear: Tua asinum est mea, Pater.]
On this second Sunday musical interlude, here’s Iron and Wine with the appropriately titled Resurrection Fern. All Hail Team White Baby Jesus!