I am really ticked off.
I spent several hours on a thoughtful essay on the definition of racism. One of those rare times when I don't just dash it off, but actually polish the style, move blocks of texts around, decide a big chunk should become an essay of its own, and so on.
Just before the end I got tired of it and stuck it in Draft. And decided to do a little fluff piece, started on it, but didn't feel like getting the camera for the picture that was part of it, and stuck it in Draft too.
It turns out you cannot do that. Only the fluff piece remains. DAMN.
But I did get a chance to do a bit of blog visiting, and a friend's religious jokes prompted me to finally post this one. It cracks me up every time I tell it.
Some Gelo-Therapy*
*Healing through humor. Taking ourselves too
seriously is the cause of much suffering.
Saint Peter has been manning the Pearly Gates for
many centuries, and the novelty has worn off.
He goes to see Management and says: “I really need
a break. Any chance Junior here could fill in for
me for a while?“ Jesus being the good sort that
He is agrees to take over and reports for training.
“It’s pretty straightforward”, says Peter. “We have
all the records in this big Akashic filing system here.
All you have to do is ask who they are, the rest is
on automatic Karma pilot.”
And so it proves to be. All is well till a dignified
elderly man with handsome Mediterranean features
shuffles forward.
“I can’t remember my name” says he. “The whole
recent past is a bit fuzzy. But I do remember this:
“I worked with wood.
I had a son who became very famous.
My son taught many people important moral lessons…”
Taken aback, Jesus looks into the old man’s eyes.
“DAD??” he asks.
And the old man replies:
carefully crafted pause.....
“Pinocchio?”
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