Like Tuesdays with Morrie, only you’ll wear pointed hoods and Jesus will love you. IF you make a TWO-pronged irony-funny, if the Jews die again because you’ve hung them on the cross simply because they were already there once and it was evil then so it will be a worse evil now, is it still funny?

Are you there, God? It’s me, fucking Margaret.

—

Q: How do you know when you’re not respecting yourself?

A: You don’t. You don’t even know what fucking time it is. Take a pill.

—

don’t sell defective condoms to high school kids for fun and profit
just give the shy ones your business instead

—

Hate is everything.
To suffer is to beautify; to beautify is to exploit; to exploit is to rape.
To cause suffering is to beautify; to beautify is to exploit; to exploit is to rape.
To prevent suffering is to beautify; to beautify is to exploit; to exploit is to rape.
God is to Kill, Kill, Kill.

Sometimes in my blogs I write things of such beauty that they’re utterly perfect. Only I can’t leave them here because they terrify me. It’s almost an unbearable loss. But of course these things haven’t disappeared altogether; they still live somewhere inside me.

Hate is the most beautiful thing known to man — so beautiful that, in fact, as is the case with the sun itself, one can’t look at it directly without somehow injuring oneself. And so, everyone does his best not to see it. Even when perceived peripherally, though, every person can sense something of its majesty, of its baroque unity, its focus, its mercury-and-platinum will.

Hate is the heaviest of industries, littered across the continuum without bound, steely, smooth, and perfect in the sunlight, ready for the smiles of six billion children.

—

Forever at heart, I am four years old.
Forever at heart, I am throwing a tantrum and vomiting on the shoes of my elders.

Just went downstairs to the I-House basement to get my laundry out of the dryer. There’s some Christfest on the laundry room television. You know, piano music and a long shot of endless ocean waves on a sunny day filling the screen, along with a voiceover by a very white sounding male saying:

“Lord, where there is despair, let me sow hope. Your contributions of $XYZ million dollars are today allowing us to broadcast across the Middle East in countries where the United States has a presence. Thanks to the millions given by our viewers, the men, women, and children of Afghanistan and Iraq can hear the same breathtaking message of hope and the love of Christ that Americans enjoy every day… because there is no greater gift than the love of Christ… no greater gift than hope.”

I dunno, dude. Think maybe those millions could create more hope if they were spent on food? How about reconstruction, or even medical care for the men, women, and children of Afghanistan and Iraq? If I was an unemployed, homeless, hungry Muslim man sitting in the rubble of Kabul right now watching millions of American dollars being poured into giving me “the love of Christ” on the American army post television set, I’d be ready to flip someone a finger.