Another weird day here in West Lafayette. Indiana is fucking terrible place to live. It feels much like Purgatory. Painfully dull. Thank God the crazy Christians have Easter to keep me entertained. Earlier this week our main campus lawn was covered in white crosses representing abortions. Touching. I don't know if that was the goal of the people running the bullshit booth. But it wasn't touching, it was just irritating. If I regretted my abortion choice they had a phone number I could call to bring the memories into focus again. I couldn't relate on a personal level but thanked them anyway. A girl with blonde, hippy-hair named Kat was silently sitting by the crosses with a sign. KEEP ABORTION LEGAL. I told her I was glad she was out making her voice heard. Kat is always involved in the feminist movement. Enough I'd say to be easily picked out by any major religous player on campus. I respect that. After all, being naked, markered with swear words last year certainly put me on the map. A carefully placed sign reading 'shock value is worthless'. CUNT. FUCK. SHIT. GOD DAMN! Inked everywhere. Fun times. Today the friends of Jesus were out in full force. A full stage production of The Cruxifiction complete with three crosses. A man in a crown of thorns, fake blood, and a white towel. Lamenting Apostles and the tearful "Son behold Thy Mother." Sweet Christ. The two crosses on either side of Our Lord were empty. Apparently you can only have the dedication to hang in 40 degree wind and piercing rain on the condition you get to play the lead. I volunteered to be crucified. I could take a sinner's place. They didn't think I was serious. I made a sign from cardboard and a black permant maker to take for my counter-protest. THE GOD YOU SEEK IS IN YOURSELF. And it seems the Great Creator has a sense of humor, because as I arrived I fulfilled the Last Temptation of Christ. The production decided to call it quits. The ghost was given up and the soldiers, in full costume I might add, stabbed The Savior and carried him away. He was just in time to read my sign as they carried him past where I was standing. Had the poor bastard had any strength he would have torn my arm off and beaten me to death with the limb. He had been hanging up for a good six hours so the only assult came from his eyes. I did provoke the leader of the acting troup to come have a lively discussion. He first tried to guilt me into loving his religion, after all I was a sinner. I told him about the care-free lifestyle I live. He tried to debate Freedom Of Will with me. The contradiction of never being able to live a sin free life. What Heaven is like. What I would say to God. If there is a God. In the end he said something so incredibly ridiculous I couldn't stop laughing and just had to walk away. Being absolutely high was the best way to approach the crowd I thought before leaving. I was right. I told Kyle, the mouth piece of the Bible Brigade, that if Jesus knew he would get to Heaven then three days of pain isn't too bad. The team leader said, "Jesus came during Roman times because they were the worst at human torture, nothing is worse than crucifiction." Really? Nothing, nothing at all, ever? "Yes." What about WWII? Those sick fucks thought about some terrible things. Are you sure? "Yes." What about blue dye shot into eyes, being kept alive for weeks, amputation experiments? "Well the Romans were at least in the top . . ." I lost it. I couldn't stop laughing. This man is a true believer. One of Bush's own little footmen. And there was no hope for this man. I couldn't help it. I laughed and walked away. Still, I think tonight he'll be cursing my name or weeping for the future late tonight, either way his day was changed.
I talked with an amputee heroin addict on the bus today. He's a nice guy. We chatted about classic porns I need to see. Deepthroat, Behind the Green Door, and others were freely played on campuses during the 60's in California. He told me of the best weed in the worl d that he found during those times while traveling north of San Fransico. Bands, cops, politics, religion. We both agreed the times are a'changing. Everything is a crime now. He got off at the nursing home where he lives. He gets methadone treatments, and is trying to score some hillbilly heroin. He makes just enough to get by, and when he dies he will be thankful for the ride and respectfully deboard. He has a living will, signed by two parties. No special Congressional law for this man. His life advice was this: Go and connect with people. We're all too plugged in. Our minds need to progress faster than our technology. West Lafayette, Indiana. Strange place.
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