Man or Barman? - PortlandBarFly.com
There's nothing funny about Jesus, pal. He can do
some serious damage when he wants to.
Take Bill, a guy I went to school with. Round about sophomore year, Bill got a bad case of Jesus. In addition to donating most of his college trust fund to the Potter's House New Rock of Faith Church, Bill smashed, one by one, his entire collection of albums against the polished floor of the dormitory. Rock, jazz, it made no difference. He prayed for forgiveness as he did it, too — not for destroying several thousand dollars' worth of the finest music ever recorded, but forever buying it in the first place. "Lord forgive me!"(sound of "Led Zeppelin I" shattering to bits). "Bless me Jesus!"(sound of "We Want Miles"shattering to bits.) Bill was pretty sure that music was evil and that Jesus would rather he live in blessed silence than singe his immortal soul with the Sounds of Satan.
Ironic, though, because Sweet Jesus would desert ol' Bill just at those moments Bill needed him most, like when Bill failed all of his exams because he spent finals week at a tent revival. I found him sobbing in his room, cradling a quart of Ancient Age. Jesus was nowhere in sight, but his friend from Kentucky was holding his hand in high style.
There's a lesson in this.
Troubled times come and go, and every person is reaching for something solid in life, a rock upon which to stand. Jesus, being dead these past two millennia, is somewhat of a mystery. Thus, He is open to interpretation (just look to the bizarre, Lord-directed activities of John Ashcroft for proof positive). In fact, his nature is so shady that even the True Believers can't sort it out and must flock together every week to reinforce their own particular spin on what Jesus wants, said and did.
As a character, he suffers from what writers call a "lack of development."In fact, his nature is so ill-defined that the Holy have to spend way more time blathering about Satan than all that Divine Love bullshit. Jesus comes off as either weak, spineless and turning his cheek every which way or as unreasonably piss and particular, all too ready to damn your ass to eternal hellfire for waxing your Johnny a little too much.
Whiskey, on the other hand, offers no such ambiguities. You drink a whiskey and you goddamn well know what's gonna happen. You're gonna feel it. And if you keep on drinking whiskey you'll be blarglin' shitty drunk before you can whistle a hymn, Jim. Whereas Jesus needs the battle with Satan to convince his followers of his reality, whiskey stands on its own two feet. It may not be your friend, but it sure as hell isn't your enemy either. Whiskey is honest and true. Whiskey always is at least 80 proof and often more. Whiskey's available to purchase on most street corners every day but Sunday (which should tell you something right there).
I know, you'll be saying, but what about the alcoholics? What about those poor unfortunates who are, as AA will tell you, Powerless Over Alcohol and must Turn To a Higher Power to Break the Cycle of Abuse? What about those poor, pitiful bastards?
Fuck 'em. After all, alcohol didn't get into brawls, drunkenly run down pedestrians, cheat on the wife and beat the children. THEY did all that. It's not alcohol's fault that they can't hold their pee-pee. AA is a big fat cop-out. If you Follow Your Program and Make Amends you can be excused from any amount of hideous behavior. It's just like getting saved. Worst thing about it too, is its longevity, this perpetual recovery that stretches on forever. Combined with Jesus' gift of eternal life it's a grim stretch indeed.
The only good thing about AA is that it keeps those pathetic broken idiots in the Denny's drinking weak coffee instead of in my bar. It's an ill wind that blows no one good.
Take Bill, a guy I went to school with. Round about sophomore year, Bill got a bad case of Jesus. In addition to donating most of his college trust fund to the Potter's House New Rock of Faith Church, Bill smashed, one by one, his entire collection of albums against the polished floor of the dormitory. Rock, jazz, it made no difference. He prayed for forgiveness as he did it, too — not for destroying several thousand dollars' worth of the finest music ever recorded, but forever buying it in the first place. "Lord forgive me!"(sound of "Led Zeppelin I" shattering to bits). "Bless me Jesus!"(sound of "We Want Miles"shattering to bits.) Bill was pretty sure that music was evil and that Jesus would rather he live in blessed silence than singe his immortal soul with the Sounds of Satan.
Ironic, though, because Sweet Jesus would desert ol' Bill just at those moments Bill needed him most, like when Bill failed all of his exams because he spent finals week at a tent revival. I found him sobbing in his room, cradling a quart of Ancient Age. Jesus was nowhere in sight, but his friend from Kentucky was holding his hand in high style.
There's a lesson in this.
Troubled times come and go, and every person is reaching for something solid in life, a rock upon which to stand. Jesus, being dead these past two millennia, is somewhat of a mystery. Thus, He is open to interpretation (just look to the bizarre, Lord-directed activities of John Ashcroft for proof positive). In fact, his nature is so shady that even the True Believers can't sort it out and must flock together every week to reinforce their own particular spin on what Jesus wants, said and did.
As a character, he suffers from what writers call a "lack of development."In fact, his nature is so ill-defined that the Holy have to spend way more time blathering about Satan than all that Divine Love bullshit. Jesus comes off as either weak, spineless and turning his cheek every which way or as unreasonably piss and particular, all too ready to damn your ass to eternal hellfire for waxing your Johnny a little too much.
Whiskey, on the other hand, offers no such ambiguities. You drink a whiskey and you goddamn well know what's gonna happen. You're gonna feel it. And if you keep on drinking whiskey you'll be blarglin' shitty drunk before you can whistle a hymn, Jim. Whereas Jesus needs the battle with Satan to convince his followers of his reality, whiskey stands on its own two feet. It may not be your friend, but it sure as hell isn't your enemy either. Whiskey is honest and true. Whiskey always is at least 80 proof and often more. Whiskey's available to purchase on most street corners every day but Sunday (which should tell you something right there).
I know, you'll be saying, but what about the alcoholics? What about those poor unfortunates who are, as AA will tell you, Powerless Over Alcohol and must Turn To a Higher Power to Break the Cycle of Abuse? What about those poor, pitiful bastards?
Fuck 'em. After all, alcohol didn't get into brawls, drunkenly run down pedestrians, cheat on the wife and beat the children. THEY did all that. It's not alcohol's fault that they can't hold their pee-pee. AA is a big fat cop-out. If you Follow Your Program and Make Amends you can be excused from any amount of hideous behavior. It's just like getting saved. Worst thing about it too, is its longevity, this perpetual recovery that stretches on forever. Combined with Jesus' gift of eternal life it's a grim stretch indeed.
The only good thing about AA is that it keeps those pathetic broken idiots in the Denny's drinking weak coffee instead of in my bar. It's an ill wind that blows no one good.
