(I feel like Jesus would probably be all like, “‘Good Friday’?? Maybe you assholes should get nailed to a cross and tell me how ‘good’ it is then. Dicks…”)
So today I’m at my mom’s house and am supposed to be doing laundry but I can’t seem to justify getting off the couch. It’s Good Friday, but not being allowed to eat meat and doing silent prayer for a whole hour isn’t exactly my definition of “good”.
(Then again, I completely forgot it was Lent until a few days ago so I’m not an expert in this area.)
Back in the day when I was in elementary and middle school, we used to do this crazy all-day church thing where we’d go through all the stations of the cross and pray the rosary. It was pretty much just a giant clusterfuck of kneeling and standing back up and kneeling down again.
It’s quite like P90x without the techno music in the background.
There was also the slightly disturbing practice in which they’d make the 8th graders act out “The Passion of the Cross”. If you’ve ever seen the Mel Gibson movie, it’s like that except with children. We’d all be assigned parts and the poor slob who was Jesus had to stand in front of the whole church covered in fake blood while the rest of us yelled, “CRUCIFY HIM!!” over and over again. Then he had to carry around this like 50-pound cross for 2 hours as we acted out every single part of the story.
I had this big speech about how we all realized after the fact that we were dicks and shouldn’t have let Jesus die. I just watched the video my mom took of it, and at this one part the kid who plays Jesus falls over with the giant cross. It’s amazing but I can’t show you for privacy reasons. I’m so very sorry…
So anyways, have a pleasant Good Friday and no matter what you believe, you’re all awesome for reading this. God and/or Kabbalah Monster thanks you for your time.
(P.S. Why did everyone stop saying “YOLO”? I miss it.)
(The answer is “yes”. If you use this poor example of sarcasm, I probably hate you.)
I just got back from my first religion class in 3 years, and I already creeped out my professor by asking him some questions after class. I was just trying to ask about the assignments and if we get extra credit for going to church, but things took a turn because I got nervous and started rambling and I think I said something offensive.
He looked at me like he was worried I’d follow him to his car and murder him. This is exactly why I shouldn’t be allowed to talk to other human beings.
Anyway, I started thinking about my own religion (if you don’t know this already, I’m a Catholic) and how it has shaped my life and pretty much my entire personality.
So today I’m here to talk about this really fun thing called “Catholic Guilt”.
And trust me folks, it’s not just some urban legend designed to justify why most of us are self-loathing and make for good television characters (i.e. Jack Donaghy on “30 Rock”).
Always. I cannot stress enough how serious this is. Especially when your parents are 2 extremely “devout” hard-core Catholics who like to tell you how much of a sinner you are, even though they are terrible people themselves. It’s not their fault, though. They also have the guilt, they’re just more asshole-ish about it.
My dad sent me an email the other day (man I wish I kept all of them because they’re all so hilarious and mean) that basically said I’m shitty and will most likely go to Hell. I’ve included bits of it here (excluding the super racist parts, though, as well as correcting spelling and grammar) so you can see what I’m talking about:
“It is the story of where the “arrogant ___” defied God’s direction (except Caleb) and he became so angry, none of their generation was permitted to see the promised land…and even Moses was punished (because he allowed them to send spies rather than simply taking direction).
If you do not honor your mother and your father you shall surely die…
If you will not learn to control what goes into your mouth [I laughed out loud here] and what comes out of your mouth you will not be able to control anything.
If the only man to ever talk to God “face to face” can be punished, so can you….
‘32 But for all this, you did not trust the LORD your God, 33 who goes before you on your way, to seek out a place for you to encamp, in fire by night and cloud by day, to show you the way in which you should go‘…
‘36 except Caleb the son of Jephunneh; he shall see it, and to him and to his sons I will give the land on which he has set foot, because he has followed the LORD fully. 37 The LORD was angry with me also on your account, saying, “Not even you shall enter there. 38 Joshua the son of Nun, who stands before you, he shall enter there; encourage him, for he will cause Israel to inherit it”‘…
I will not help you defy the Lord so that I will be punished…
You will do what is right even if ‘you don’t want to be told what to do’ (in your arrogance) or you will be a true ‘orphan’. [What a dick.]
I have reached the end of my tolerance.”
My dad uses a lot of ellipses. Maybe that’s where I get it…
So now you kind of can see where I’m coming from. It’s great because this isn’t even a good example of how real things get. In all honesty, I have no clue why he’s mad. I probably didn’t answer the phone when my mom called…?
Despite the fact that I’m not sure what I did wrong, I still feel bad. Sometimes I feel like I understand those Japanese people who kill themselves when they get a “B” on a test. I do in fact have many short-comings, but I try to ignore them and pretend I’m awesome. That’s where the Catholic guilt comes into play: a constant reminder that you’re not as great as you think you are.
(Even as I’m typing this, I really want some whiskey. But the liquor store is closed and now I feel guilty because I’m bugging [my boyfriend] to take me to the bar. He’s getting annoyed and sighing a lot. Lame.)
Oh well. Only 9 more hours until the liquor store opens. :)