http://www.livejournal.com/users/pabsungenis/49350.htmlFrom: Pab Sungenis <pab@lowbudgetradio.com>
To: Jesus Christ <junior@heaven.gov>
Subject: How about dropping in for a visit?
Hey, Jesus. Been a while since I heard from you. Hope all is well.
To be blunt, I'm kind of worried. Things aren't going that well around here, and I can't help but think that they can't be much better where you are. Actually, to be blunt, it's really messed up around here lately and something needs to be done.
Could you pop on down for a quick visit?
No, I'm serious. Think about it. You're kind of busy, I know, lobbing comets around the firmament and all that, and I know your Inbox is backed up with all these Soccer Moms praying for their kids' teams. (Ever think about a spam filter?) But a break would do you some good, and it would probably do all of us a world of good to see you again.
You wouldn't believe the shit they've been saying about you lately. Since you moved away, everyone seems to think that they're your Best Friend Forever, and they know all about you. It's kind of obvious to those of us that really know you that they have no clue what you thought or said, but a lot of people fall for it. If you stop by, maybe you could give 'em a good talking to, and let them know they're full of shit, and what's really important.
First off, there's this whole "church" thing they've got going on. You had moved away before they started this shit, so you may not know anything about it. But these people actually believe in gathering together in these big, expensive buildings (which would house about 10 homeless families each, when you add the parking lot into account) every Sunday (I know, your dad's only day off!) and PRAYING. Oh, and shelling out lots of money, too, to help keep these buildings going. And they have to do it loud, and in their fancy clothing, and some of them even on TV!
I mean, what is this shit? Weren't they even listening that day when you were talking to -- I forget who, probably
Matt -- about not putting on airs and praying like the Pharisees? Prayer is an extremely intense and intimate moment, and it shouldn't be eavesdropped on. It's like those people with those annoying little Nextel phones who think that not only do they need to talk to people RIGHT NOW, but they have to make sure that WE ALL HEAR THEIR CONVERSATION, TOO! We both know your Dad. He doesn't like people like that. Hey, he hasn't even really raised his voice since the day you got baptised; since then I don't think he's said more than 20 words in public. He prefers text messages. Easier to keep quiet. That's why I talk to him -- and you -- alone. Someone has to set them straight.
Next, there are all these people who are using your likeness and name for profit. I mean, I know you don't care about money and didn't bother to trademark them, but you should see these people who are using them and what they're using it for! There's one group out there lending money (remember
that day in the Temple? Again, they weren't paying attention) as a form of "Christian debt relief." There's another group that's encouraging people to oppose gay marriage by -- get this -- changing their long distance carrier! About the only thing I appreciate in "Christian" merchandise is those stupid little "Jesus fish" they put on their cars. I stay away from those cars when I'm on the highway; my driving teacher told me years ago that it's best to avoid people on the roads who aren't afraid to die.
You see, here's the thing. Some of them have gotten it in their heads that you're planning to move back home, and that when you do you're going to burn the whole motha to the ground. Well, actually, before you do that you're going to pick them all up (did you get a big van or SUV you didn't tell me about? I doubt you could fit them all in that Prius of yours) and drive them away before you light the fuse. I don't know where they got that idea, maybe they've been listening to that "Sunny Came Home" song too much. I know you never told them that. In fact, didn't your dad say something very specifically about not destroying the Earth ever again? I think he said it to
Noah.Again, they aren't paying attention.
Well, since they think you're going to pop by and pick them all up, they don't give a shit about anyone or anything down here. They think it's all going to be burning down soon -- as soon as you get off the Parkway, basically -- and they don't need to take care of it. Please straighten them out, before the air gets too hard to breathe and they break the air conditioner.
And the funny thing is, as much as they all talk about how devoted they are to you, they keep forgetting huge chunks of what you've said, like that whole
"Whatsoever you do to the least of my bretheren" thing. They forget that you told us all to watch out for each other and take care of each other. Some of us remembered that, but too many of them are just looking out for number one and not giving a shit about anyone else. I would tell you to slap them upside the head a few times, but I know you're not like that. Just give 'em a good talking to and maybe things will work out.
To be honest, I've missed you down here. I want my Jesus back, not this Superhero they've built thinking it's you, or the mafia boss some of them think you are. They don't remember what you're really like. You're a cool guy who actually CARES about everyone else, and wants to make sure everyone takes care of each other and helps each other, and that the bad shit goes away, or at least isn't as bad as it could be.
And that you loved all of us. I mean, some people talking about taking a bullet for their friends, but you took that concept literally. And then some! Maybe they need to be remembered about what you really said, and did, and thought.
So, what do you say? Stop on down (no need to give me a call, just pop in when I'm at work) and we'll have everyone over. I'll even barbecue. You like those burgers of mine, with the special glaze, right?
Think about it.
Give my love to your Mom and Dad. Thanks again for everything, and I hope to hear from you soon.
Love,
Pab.
P.S.: Maybe stick around an extra day and we'll play "Apples to Apples" at Kris and Becky's. I know Maia would get a kick out of seeing you. You wouldn't believe how much she's grown.
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