My Testimony
On this fine Easter Sunday, I'd like to offer the following prayer. Please bow your heads and repeat after me:

Dear Jesus. Why do you have to ruin everything?

First you rose from the grave, condemning me to a lifetime of Sundays in stuffy churches with hard wooden pews when I could have been a happy Hindu with nothing between me and my NFL in the fall.

But then you went around inspiring people to do inexplicable shit in your name, which usually means the same thing they were doing before their conversion experience, only with a bunch of clumsy adoration shoehorned into it. Coke-snorting, whore-banging football players, for instance, can immediately transform into coke-snorting, whore-banging football players who thank Jesus every time there's a camera on them. It's really annoying.

There's also the example of John Davis. No, not the dude who draws the Garfield comic strip. We all know Jesus abandoned that man a good long time ago.

This John Davis used to be the lead singer and songwriter behind a band called Superdrag. They had one mild hit in the mid-90s called "Sucked Out". I bought that album and was very happy. Then came their next album, Head Trip In Every Key, which was (and still is) one of the two or three best albums I own. Sure, the next two albums were kind of repetitive, but every band has place-holder albums in between the really great ones. There aren't many bands who make really great guitar-based power pop music (Matthew Sweet, Weezer... uh... probably others, but it's a short list), so I was willing to wait it out.

But then Jesus... Jesus, Jesus, Jesus... you just couldn't leave well enough alone. You had to stick your nose in and "save" John Davis from drinking himself to death with your fancy lights-and-magic "road to Damascus" dog-and-pony show.

Great. Thanks. So John Davis is still alive, but instead of songs titled "Annetichrist" or "Wrong vs. Right Doesn't Matter" we suddenly get his new solo work with songs titled "I Hear Your Voice" and "Salvation" and (I swear this is true) "Jesus Gonna Build Me A Home".

Jesus, I know you're the Son of God and the Messiah and all that stuff, so it's possible that this is an impertinent question, but seriously Jesus, what the fuck?

I get it that there are some things I can't do. I can't get an abortion, I can't pull the plug on the machines keeping brain-dead chicks I don't know alive with impunity, fine. All that is fine. But Jesus, I needs my rock-n-roll. I needs it. I don't know if you've been reading my blog, but I got little kids. Everything and anything that can maintain my sanity is necessary. Ne-ces-sary.

So Jesus, we're going to make a pact, you and me, right now. I will agree never to masturbate again and you are going to leave the lead singer of Jimmy Eat World alone. Deal?

Yes, I know the initials of Jimmy Eat World spell out "JEW". I admit, converting the lead "JEW" would not be without humorous irony, but come on. You got Stephen Baldwin. Isn't that funny enough?

Amen.


This post on the Narcissus Scale: 6.4


Pops
- posted by Pops @ 11:31 PM