Friday, April 14, 2017

April 14, 2017

Dear Diary,

I've never been a particularly religious person, yet Good Friday always brings out the spiritual part of me.  I think that's because I identify so much with Jesus.  By that, I don't mean embracing the same philosophies and practices as much as how we both were fucked over by our friends endured great trials while trying to help the less fortunate.

The other day, as I was boning up on the Bible before a game of Trivial Pursuits with Dr. Morell, Bessie and Bill, I reviewed the story of Jesus and Good Friday.  I could really relate. For one thing, Jesus had way more support with both Romans and Jews than Pontius Pilate and King Herod, but he still lost out being King.  And that was without the Electoral College.  Barabbas was too far to the right and never had a real chance.

From what I understand, Jesus was major league popular with most of the Jews, but you know how they can be:  One minute they're your friend, the next minute they're holding tribunals and sentencing you to death, only in Jesus's case, they weren't kidding.  It hurts to have your career ended, but not at the risk of tetanus.  Yikes!

I think the most riveting aspect of the Good Friday is the whole Podesta Judas thing.  It's like all along, while Jesus is campaigning healing people throughout the swing states Galilee,  Podesta and Debbie Wasserman-Schultz Judas and his campaign staff disciples keep telling him, "You're in, Jesus!  You don't even have to visit Judea, they're already a lock!  You're going to break the glass ceiling and go straight to heaven!"  Then everything goes to hell and they leave you bleeding out.  Believe me, I know the feeling.

Sometimes I think about Jesus on the cross and wonder if anyone called to see how he was doing, because unless I'm not getting my messages, my phone isn't exactly ringing off the hook.  All those arabic lessons turned out to be a total waste.  The only phrase I remember is "Allah Hu Akbar," and I can't even say that out loud without everyone scattering for cover.

Of course, it's not a total downer.  Jesus had his Huma Mary Magdalene and despite what's written in the book, it's what's NOT written that speaks volumes, if you get my drift.  You don't have to get past the first few chapters of "The DaVinci Code" to figure that out.  Huma used to lovingly wipe my brow, anoint me with oil and give me that special kind comfort, too.  Sometimes she would hum while she was doing it and it felt really good.  The vibrations made me crazy.

Let's face it, when you're on top, everyone loves you.  When you're crucified, not so much.

Subscribe for each day's entry by Email!