A Rough Fortnight for Jesus

Well, whatever momentum Jesus had going during the Easter season came to a grinding halt over the last two weeks. I think the cases of Terry Schiavo and The Pope left Him with some explaining to do.

Let’s face it. Terry Schiavo got a pretty rotten deal. It would suck to starve to death. It would suck even more to starve to death with your husband and your husband’s attorney lurking around like vultures constantly asking “Aren’t you dead yet?” while, for some reason unknown to you, your real family isn’t around much while you’re laying there suffering, and your husband’s soon-to-be new wife is standing there at a makeshift alter hastily erected next to your death bed waiting to get married to that s.o.b. if only you would just expire. Starving to death should only happen when you’re lost in the desert or in some similarly barren locale. It shouldn’t come at the hands of the people who are supposed to like you the best. That must’ve been a pretty miserable couple of weeks.

I’m not saying that Jesus was punishing Terry Schiavo. I don’t think that’s how He operates. There is always some sort of a purpose for stuff. However, I think she was owed an explanation for all that suffering. Jesus could tell her about how many people are writing living wills because of her. Maybe He could tell her that He was pretty sure Michael Schiavo belonged in hell, but needed a little more evidence. I don’t know. The whole thing made me feel kind of sick.

My sister wrote a living will on her blog. I thought it was funny but it’s probably just the way she’d really want things (www.housepants.blogspot.com). One part of it says that her therapy should include being placed in front of a window so she can look at birds. I told her that I’m gonna be her Michael Schiavo. If any birds dare come near her nursing home, I’ll be sitting outside of her window with a shotgun ready to blow them to smithereens. And if one of those blasted American Kestrels that she likes so much gets within her eye shot, things are really going to get grisly. I’ll also have Ministry’s “Stigmata” constantly playing in the background. The only time Ministry will stop is when it’s time for Rush Limbaugh. I’ll set up her room like that one in Elvis’ house with all the TV sets. One set will show videos of glaciers melting. Another will have looped coverage of the Exxon Valdez disaster. A third will be a live video feed of traffic on 635. Maybe I can get those ATF agents who flashed strobe lights and played bad noises at the Branch Davidians to help. Plus I’m going to pay someone to come in and poke her every few seconds. She’d like that. I just want her to die in peace and with dignity.

That Michael Schiavo is a sick bastard.

Then there’s The Pope. He seemed like a pretty neat guy. From the way he helped end communism to the way he was kind to all to his wardrobe, I say The Pope was first rate! But I’m afraid that he may have been in for a little bit of shock when he went into Heaven. The guy Poped as hard as he could for twenty something years! I can see how he might have been under the false impression that he would get some sort of preferential treatment when he got up there. Hopefully The Pope always kept in mind that Jesus likes us all the same and that there is no special treatment in Heaven. Having said all that, I’m sure Jesus cut him a little bit of slack if he came up there with kind of a bad attitude about the lack of fanfare.

It’s going to be weird to look at The new Pope. I hope he doesn’t seem like a phony when he puts on all of The Pope’s clothes. Let’s come together and give this new guy a chance!

Bimbo Bakeries

There is a Mexican bread company called Bimbo Bakeries that is building its corporate headquarters in the field next to my office. According to its website, the company is called Bimbo on account of Bimbo is the shortened version of the Italian “bambino” which means “small child”. I’m not sure what bread has to do with small children except, perhaps, that small children like bread. But who doesn’t? They could’ve just as well called the place the shortened version of whatever the Italian word for middle-aged man is. Anyway, why are they naming it something Italian when there are plenty of Mexican things to call it? They could’ve named it after whatever the shortened version of the Spanish word for old people is. They like bread. Plus they’re real Mexicans!

Bimbo’s mascot is a playful bear. The bear, according to the Bimbo website, is a symbol of freshness, quality, and service. I’ve never met a bear, but I bet there are a lot better ways to describe them than “fresh”. Bears can’t smell very good with all of the goopity goop goop they’re bound to eat. (Did you know that bears like eating pine nuts? So do I! But nobody can say I’m not fresh.)

The whole thing made me wonder, “Does Mexico even have bears?” so I went to Google and typed “Does Mexico even have bears?”. The first thing that popped up was a link called “Mexico Doesn’t Even Have Any Bears”. Further research showed that there are a few black bears in the northern part of Mexico, but certainly not enough to name a whole bread company after.

The corporate office has been under construction for a couple months now. For about the first three weeks all there was were three guys with what appeared to be shovels. They dug and dug without making much progress. Then out of nowhere, and without the aid of heavy machinery (except for a large crane that sat in the field without moving for about 30 minutes one day), a concrete slab was in place. Still there were just the three guys with their shovels. Then steel pillars went up. Today the thing is really starting to look like something, but there’s never been anybody out there working except for the three shovelers. I don’t know how they’re doing it, but these guys are magic. What these guys have accomplished makes a mockery of crap like Stonehenge and the Great Pyramid.

I can’t wait until they finish making the bread offices. I’m gonna go over there and get my eat on.