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| Guest-blogger Bettejo Dux is one of Kauai's most delightful people, she has lived on the cosmic island of Kaua'i for over 40 years... She is an animal lover, people lover and enjoys life to the fullest. Today she talks about the age old subject of God, Religion, the Bible and her good friend Kurt Vonnegut Jr. Enjoy..! www.bettejodux.com |
IF THEY LOSE THE BOOK
I think it’s time we addressed the forbidden subject. The good Book. The Bible. The Christian fundamentalist quotes the Book-that’s the Old and the New Testament- constantly. It’s the word of God. He wrote it. He is it. Without it they have nothing. Lose the book and you lose the God.
Now Jesus Christ, if there was such a person, is another kettle of fish. Kurt Vonnegut-one of my favorite non believers – seated here beside me at the bar, said, “If Christ had not delivered the Sermon on the Mount, with the message of mercy and pity, I wouldn't want to be a human being. I’d just as soon be a rattlesnake.”
I nodded, “He’s another of my favorite human being.” We drank to that. “I really liked him. Didn't much like his mother. Constantine hauled her ass off to heaven on my birthday.”
He nodded. “August 15th,” he took a swig. ”The Assumption. Not certain of the year. Never bought the story. Got diddled by a God? Doubt it…”
“The Jehovah’s don’t have a problem with that. According to Rutherford he was the son of god but not god. Still stuck with big daddy, tho.” I pondered and took a bite of cheese and crackers.
‘…yep,” Kurt went on. “They’re stuck with that. Stuff came gushing outta him.”
“If my assumption, not hers, is correct. You gotta buy the whole deal. No book. No God.”
“… you got salsa? I feel armless without salsa on my cracker. “
I nodded. “Careful. It’s hot as hell.”
“No book. No god. No hell…”
“..won’t miss it.”
“They can fart balderdash about whether he’s real or not. Deal is who’s he belong to?”
“Why’s he always a he? If a lady wrote the book…”
“…terror to wake up one morning and find your high school sweetie wrote it…”
“…would he still be a he? Would he still hate women?”
“…Good stuff.” He took another glug.
“…friend brought it. Costs 125 buck a bottle.”
We were sloshing. “Which one’s him?”
“… The tenor in the room next door. Gunslinger. He’ll pass out pretty quick. Or get thrown out. Or knocked out. Or come in and try to drain the bottle.”
“So it goes. Do Be Do Be Do. Sometimes I have the disease. Alcohol.”
The telephone rang.
“That too.”
“Maybe it’s him.”
“Ask him over. Sounds like the party’s gettin’ rough. What’s that they’re singin’?”
“A friend of mine wrote it. ‘Humping the thumpers.’ Give those guys a itch and their dirty minds take over,” and away I went.
The gunslinger was as shnoozoled as Kurt and me, but polite. He could be charming. I asked the Mick to join us. He shook his head. The thumpers were humping. The humpers pumping. The guy on the drum was beating the canvas.
“In a mood to debate?”
“Always in a mood to..” he hiccuped, “…debate.”
“Lost your book?”
“Nope. Got it. Right here.” he waved his arm.
“You’re really snookered,” I giggled “That’s not a book that’s a catcher’s mitt.”
Now Jesus Christ, if there was such a person, is another kettle of fish. Kurt Vonnegut-one of my favorite non believers – seated here beside me at the bar, said, “If Christ had not delivered the Sermon on the Mount, with the message of mercy and pity, I wouldn't want to be a human being. I’d just as soon be a rattlesnake.”
I nodded, “He’s another of my favorite human being.” We drank to that. “I really liked him. Didn't much like his mother. Constantine hauled her ass off to heaven on my birthday.”
He nodded. “August 15th,” he took a swig. ”The Assumption. Not certain of the year. Never bought the story. Got diddled by a God? Doubt it…”
“The Jehovah’s don’t have a problem with that. According to Rutherford he was the son of god but not god. Still stuck with big daddy, tho.” I pondered and took a bite of cheese and crackers.
‘…yep,” Kurt went on. “They’re stuck with that. Stuff came gushing outta him.”
“If my assumption, not hers, is correct. You gotta buy the whole deal. No book. No God.”
“… you got salsa? I feel armless without salsa on my cracker. “
I nodded. “Careful. It’s hot as hell.”
“No book. No god. No hell…”
“..won’t miss it.”
“They can fart balderdash about whether he’s real or not. Deal is who’s he belong to?”
“Why’s he always a he? If a lady wrote the book…”
“…terror to wake up one morning and find your high school sweetie wrote it…”
“…would he still be a he? Would he still hate women?”
“…Good stuff.” He took another glug.
“…friend brought it. Costs 125 buck a bottle.”
We were sloshing. “Which one’s him?”
“… The tenor in the room next door. Gunslinger. He’ll pass out pretty quick. Or get thrown out. Or knocked out. Or come in and try to drain the bottle.”
“So it goes. Do Be Do Be Do. Sometimes I have the disease. Alcohol.”
The telephone rang.
“That too.”
“Maybe it’s him.”
“Ask him over. Sounds like the party’s gettin’ rough. What’s that they’re singin’?”
“A friend of mine wrote it. ‘Humping the thumpers.’ Give those guys a itch and their dirty minds take over,” and away I went.
The gunslinger was as shnoozoled as Kurt and me, but polite. He could be charming. I asked the Mick to join us. He shook his head. The thumpers were humping. The humpers pumping. The guy on the drum was beating the canvas.
“In a mood to debate?”
“Always in a mood to..” he hiccuped, “…debate.”
“Lost your book?”
“Nope. Got it. Right here.” he waved his arm.
“You’re really snookered,” I giggled “That’s not a book that’s a catcher’s mitt.”
Hana Hou, (Encore) Shared from Facebook...
Bettejo also publishes her own blog column.
You can check it out at ; http://www.bettejo.wordpress.com . Besides her blog she recently published and authored the humorous fiction book, "The Scam," check it out at(www.bettejodux.com) or on Amazon. |
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