Dec. 20th, New Jerusalem —
In a rare pre-holiday message to his millions of followers popular Christian Deity Jesus Christ firmly rebuked his faithful by stating, “There’s only so much room on this cross, folks. Tone it down a notch, okay?”. Emphasizing that being told “‘Happy Holidays’ instead of ‘Merry Christmas’ or learning scientific method based theories on evolution doesn’t exactly count as persecution, you dig?”, Jesus went on to complain about the deluge of prayer submissions that were little more than ‘crybaby b.s.’ that made Him embarrassed to receive them.
The following is a transcript of the text in it’s entirety.
Look, I’ve seen Mel Gibson’s bank statements so I know that a lot of you saw the movie depicting My sacrifice and suffering for you, so I’m at a loss as to how exactly you’ve come to think that being told “Happy Holidays” counts as persecution. I love me the Chocodiles, but I don’t go freaking out and starting a petition if the 7-11 doesn’t have them! I hate to break it to you, but not every single one of the 6.55 billion people on this planet are big fans of Me. You know what? I’m totally cool with that. It’s not like I did much for the fine folk in China or India. Cool places to hang out, but they’ve got their own cosmic beings looking out for them and they’ve got their own holiday traditions. So chill out on the shopkeeps!
Besides which, haven’t you, my blessed children, figured out that Christmas isn’t really about Me and My divine glory? It’s not like I did anything that day, anyway. Mom did all the work, how about giving her a little credit, huh? Save it for Easter! While we’re at it, how do you think it makes Me feel having to look down upon you and see hundreds and hundreds of little naked figurines of Me all over the place. Way to embarass your Lord, people! How would you like it if I came down there and showed your naked baby pictures all over the place? And hey, you do realize that I wasn’t born in Las Vegas, right? So what’s with all the glittering lights and garish colors? And what is up with the snowmen and toy soliders? I may not remember My glorious birth, but I sure as hell would remember a six foot toy soldier looking in on My crib! The way you guys have at it, I’m just waiting for the day someone puts up a Die Hard diorama in between the manger, the reindeer, and the inflatable fat guy. (Nick, you know I love ya! I’m a kidder! I kid!)
Here’s the deal: You guys are being total sissies. That’s right, I said it. Sissies. So the US Constitution says that there can’t be a copy of the Ten Commandments in front of a federal courthouse. So what? Look, if you boneheads would pay a little closer attention to those, maybe you wouldn’t NEED so many courthouses. And prayer in school? Who needs it? That’s 5 more minutes your kids could be learning and that’s 5 minutes of a little more peace and quiet for Yours Truly. I get a lot of prayers from kids and frankly I could use the break. I’ve got stuff I want to do with My day too, you know. But oh no, you’ve got to get all fired up and start protesting and petitioning and screaming and crying about being ‘martyrs’ and ‘persecuted’ to whatever so-called moralist blowhard radio talkshow host you listen to. (Which is a waste of time, believe Me. It’s not Me on their speed-dial, I assure you.) You think that’s persecution? Being fed to a lion! That’s martyrdom. Being pinned to a giant wooden cross after hours of hellish torture only to be shived in the gut by a big honkin’ spear! That’s a big check in the martyr column. You’ve got no idea what suffering for your faith means. I know it’s tough having to control all that money and power, but check yourselves already! It’s not as if the past experiments in Christian control of the government turned out all that great, you know. Try turning the other cheek once in awhile!
Do you have any idea how hard it is to have a polite conversation with Mohammed and Buddha at the buffet line these days? Your ceaseless whining and simpering tantrums are making Me a laughingstock up here! I love you guys, but I will go absolutely insane if I have to go another 400 years without My weekly bridge club with the Boys. I’ll make a deal with you, My faithful: You save your bitching and moaning about persecution for a time when you have gunships firing on your houses, tanks in your streets and your little would-have-been-quarterback son blowing himself up at the Gas n’ Sip because Grandma took a hollowpoint in the face for praying on the street, and I won’t go back to the Old Testament for leadership advice.