I’m Still Moses, And I Still Exist, Ya Sum’Bitches

I'm Still Moses, Ya Sum'bitches

I’m Still Moses, Ya Sum’bitches

It’s me again, ya sum’bitches, Moses. Yes, STILL, THAT Moses.  What, did you think I was lying in the last post, ya sum’bitches? Of course I wasn’t, so let me just get back to the sum’bitchin’ story, alright?  I left off with Yahweh telling me he would lead me and my fellow Jews out of Egypt to a Promised Land if we but followed ten commandments he’d written for us. I told him I’d need to see all ten of the sum’bitches first before I’d even consider telling anyone else about his offer. Well, the sum’bitch agreed, and, as soon as he did, the burning bush vanished and was replaced by a large tortoise, yes, a sum’bitchin’ tortoise, that had the commandments numbered and written on its shell. The Old Testament writers were well aware that Yahweh gave me his ten commandments this way, and not on 2 big stones. They just felt it rather embarrassing to admit this, so they said it was 2 stones the commandments were written on and left the sum’bitchin’ tortoise out of it. I’ll admit, I did look like an ass following that sum’bitch around trying to read what Yahweh had written on it.  You don’t appreciate how fast those sum’bitches actually move until you’ve tried reading the ten commandments off of one’s shell while its walking. Very hard sum’bitchin’ job.

10 Commandments Were Written On A Sum'bitchin' Tortoise

10 Commandments Were Originally Written On A Sum’bitchin’ Tortoise

I read as much as I could of what was on the tortoise before it wandered so far into the desert I couldn’t follow the sum’bitch. From what I could read, stuff about honoring your sum’bitchin’ parents and not lusting after some other sum’bitch’s wife, I felt Yahweh was giving us a pretty good deal. So I told all the Jews in Egypt, at Temple the following Saturday, that we should take Yahweh up on his offer, even though the sum’bitchin’ Egyptians were very nice to us, because it would be wonderful to actually have a whole nation just for ourselves to rule as we wished. The only catch being we’d have to devote our Sunday’s to that sum’bitch Yahweh, but he wouldn’t demand much more of us than that, I argued. I was wrong, however. I felt like quite the sum’bitch when I realized just what a bastard that sum’bitch excuse of a god, Yahweh, really is. It broke the Pharaoh’s heart when I told him I was leaving with my fellow Jews to start our own country under the guidance of Yahweh. “Don’t trust that sum’bitch!” Ramesses told me. “He’s a childish, spoiled god who’s more interested in glorifying himself than in helping you. The sum’bitch has pulled this stunt with every minority group in Egypt at one time or another. The groups that leave usually die in the desert long before reaching any Promised Land. Don’t go, Moses.” Well, I didn’t listen to the sum’bitch, and I should’ve. Yahweh fucked us. And he fucked us hard. The minute we got through the Red Sea, which I parted and then closed, but NOT on any Egyptian army, that sum’bitchin’ tortoise, with all ten commandments shining as clear as day on its shell, literally appeared right in front of my feet, forcing me to stop walking and read every commandment written on it. I was stunned by the amount of ass lickin’ that sum’bitch was expecting us to do just so he wouldn’t get angry and kill us.

An UnPursued Moses Parts The Red Sea

An UnPursued Moses Parts The Red Sea

After reading ALL the commandments, I became so angry, I turned everyone around, and we headed back to the Red Sea, hoping to return to Egypt. But when I tried to part it again, so we could walk back through it, the sum’bitch wouldn’t budge. We were stuck in the desert, just like Ramesses warned me we’d be. I was so furious after this that I refused to talk to that sum’bitch, Yahweh, for almost two decades, though he appeared to me as burning shrubbery hundreds of times. When I finally did talk to him, things didn’t really improve much or for very long, before I became furious with him again. But that is a tale for another day, ya sum’bitches. I said all I wish to say for now, God damn it!

Advertisements

I’m Moses, And I Exist, God Damn It!

I'm Real, God Damn It! Says Moses

I’m Real, God Damn It! Says Moses

Hello. This is Moses. Yes. THAT Moses, God damn it! Which Moses did you think it was? Your Uncle Moses from Jersey? Do you even have an Uncle Moses from Jersey? Does ANY ONE have an Uncle Moses from Jersey? I thought not, God damn it! So shut up a minute and let me talk already, God damn it! It’s come to my attention that several Rabbis, Christians, a-theists, and other such ninnies have been debating whether or not I ever existed. Apparently, some putzes think the stories in the Bible about me were just made up, and I am but a conglomeration of people combined into one guy by the writers of the Old Testament. Well, I’m here to tell you, that I AM Moses. I do exist, and I am the Moses written about in the Bible, God damn it! As well, the Jews did make an Exodus out of Egypt, and I was the one who lead them. I’m here to set things straight and explain why I think there’s debate about whether or not I actually ever existed.

You see, the stories in The Bible about me are true, but only on the level that they did happen. They are not true, at all, in the way the writers of the Old Testament interpreted them for the reader. Their purpose was to codify the Jewish religion and give it a historical context for future generations of Jews. In doing so, they failed to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth about my life and my on again off again relationship with Yahweh, God damn it!  Let me tell you right off, Yahweh is NOT the only god there is. He just WANTS to be. He thinks that by threatening people with commandments he can scare them into blind obedience to him. I first meet Yahweh early one Summer morning while I was talking to some of the space aliens my adopted father, the Egyptian Pharaoh, Ramesses, had hired to build the pyramids.

Ramesses & Wife Alive

Ramesses & Wife Then

Don’t ask me how he got in touch with these aliens, God damn it! Because I don’t know. I only know that Ramesses told them to be absolutely certain to leave behind no physical evidence they’d ever been here when they were finished. He apparently thought it would be funny to fuck with future generations who would be left guessing as to how the pyramids got built. If you ask me, waiting 4000 years for the punch line to a joke that you won’t be around to appreciate, isn’t funny at all, God damn it!

Ramesses & Wife Today

Ramesses & Wife Today

But back to my first meeting with Yahweh, God damn it! Like I said, I noticed a bush that was on fire as I was talking to one of the aliens, and I walked over to it to see what was going on. The bush, surprisingly, started to talk. It said, “Moses! Moses! I need you to follow me as my servant and accept me as your god.” Needless to say, my response wasn’t in the least flattering. I said to the bush, “God damn it! You’re a bush, burning out here alone the desert. What about this makes you think you’re leaving me with the impression that you’re a god of some sort? For all I know, you’re just a trick some of my friends have rigged up to make me look like a putz. I’m NOT following any god that can’t do better than this. If you are really a god, I have to tell you, you look an ass right now.”

Sorry, But You Just Look Silly

Sorry, But You Just Look Silly

Well, that must’ve embarrassed Yahweh, because I heard nothing else from him until my nephew’s bar mitzvah a few months later. Oh, before I forget, I always knew I was a Jew. I was found in the river by the Pharaoh’s wife, afloat in a basket, and wearing a tiny yamaka with a note attached to it that read, “Please take care of my Jewish baby, God damn it! because I can’t.” So Ramesses adopted me and made me his son. He knew, that since I was adopted and Jewish, I could never be a Pharaoh, so he spent a fortune to send me to Law School, and when I graduated, he made me Conciliary for the Ramesses Family. I was his legal muscle and representative from the day I graduated until the day Yahweh talked me into leaving Egypt with the other Jews. I had a great relationship with Ramesses, God damn it! And I miss him to this day.

Anyway, Yahweh appeared next at my nephew’s bar mitzvah as, once again, a burning bush. He appeared on a hill, not a mountain, just outside the back gates of my sister’s house. I went out to him, and he said to me, “Moses! God damn it! Why did you dis me last time I appeared to you? All I want to do is give you ten commandments for you and your fellow Jews to follow. Then I’ll help you flee the cruelty of your enslavement to Ramesses and lead you to your own land where you can worship me the way I want you to, free of demanding tyrants. Wadda ya say, big fella? Will you do this for me?”

Come back tomorrow for more of the story about me, Moses, who really does exist, God damn it!

Stories For Children With Robert The Reviewer

Robert the Reviewer’s first post for TACP was a huge success. Fans of the site from as far away as the fourth moon of the planet Yavin have been writing accolade-filled e-mails about how much they enjoyed reading Robert’s unique, tenderly worded review of “12 Years A Slave.” In order to quench our readers’ thirst for more of Robert’s words, we are proud to announce that, in addition to his media review column, he will have a second column featuring stories for children ages 3 and up which he promises to be both entertaining and educational for all.  So, without any more delay, we give you, Robert the Reviewer.

Robert The Reviewer

Robert The Reviewer

How ye doin’ me laddies ‘n lassies? Dis ‘ere ’tis Robert, da Reviewer ‘n da best damn teller ov yarns ye’ve e’re ‘eard.  I know none ov ye are like me own faggy, girly man ov a son. So’s da tale ’em about ta tell ye won’ scare ye none, though it be fill’d wit blood, horror, ‘n da livin’ dead, ken. It ain’t as ‘orrible a story, though, as da time me faggy son almost got hiself ea’n by a rabid Haggis on da moors of Edinburgh whilst we t’was huntin’ da fraggin’ gay beastie wit s’ords ‘n clubs ken. Dat’ll be a tale I tell’z ye anither time, wee ones. Fer now I want ta tell ye ov a Bible story ‘day ne’ tell ye ’bout in church: da story ov Matthew 27:52-53. ‘Tis a tale dat begins wit dat lordy-lad, Jez’is returnin’ from da dead. He did dat af’er bein’ dead fer 3 days, wee ones, as ye may ov been told. But what ye ain’t n’er been told is dis: Jez’is weren’t da only one ta rise from da tomb dat day. Just as Jez’is’ eyes opened in ‘is tomb, da grave stones ov dozens ‘o other saints ‘n prophets braked open, ‘n da zombie saints inside ’em went walkin’ in’ta Jerusalem ta spread da word dat the lordy-lad ‘ad come back from beyond da grave. Only, Jez’is, ‘e ‘ad nay a clue dat dis was ta happin’. So’s ‘e decided ta ignore da situation when ‘e realized ‘e wasn’t da only reanimated bein’ walkin’ ’bout dat ‘day. ‘E did nay wan’ ta ‘av ‘es moment stolen by sharin’ it wit more zombies. ‘E simply paid no heed ta them. No heed ’til ‘day started eatin’ da people ov Jerusalem, dat ’tis.

Resurrected Saints Eating The Living

Resurrected Saints Eating The Living

The Saint zombies were expectin’ ta get sent back ta Heaven or ta der graves quickly, at least, by Jez’is when ‘day decided ta come back ta life ta show their support ov da lordy-lad. ‘Day weren’t planin’ on dat bastard, Jez’is, just ignorin’ ’em ‘n leavin’ ’em on Earth, alone, ta fend fer themselves. ‘Day got real ‘ungry real quick-like after a few days, ‘n ‘day started eatin’ da people ‘day come back ta life ta rejoice wit just a wee bit before.  Dis, of course, wasn’t what da lordy-lad wanted ta be happin’. It was stealin’ ‘is thunder ‘n ‘e weren’t havin’ it. So’s ‘e got hiself a big ‘ole fish bone, ‘n ‘e went out ‘n whacked da ‘eads off all them zombie saints in just a wee few hours.

Jesus With Zombie Killing Fish Bone

Jesus With Zombie Killing Fish Bone

Den ‘e went back ta bein’ a big shot solo zombie again. ‘E believed ‘e had wiped the incident out completely from da minds of men,’til Matthew’s Gospel came out, at least. Oh me, laddies ‘n lassies! Ye ain’t seen or heard angry unless ye seen da lordy-lad da fine day ‘e read da Gospel of Matthew. WOW! ‘E ain’t said a word ta ‘ole Matthew in da almost 2000 years since, me wee ones. ‘N I believe ‘e would’ve sent dat poor bugger, Matthew, right ta ‘ell if it weren’t for da fact every priest ‘n preacher ‘as ignored dat section of Matthew’s Gospel da way da lordy-lad ignored da zombie saints all doze years back. Hardly ’tis it e’er mentioned ken. Now ye all know Jez’is is a rat bastard ‘n a’ ego maniac. So’s ye all need ta stop givin’ a shite about ’em, ‘n just live yer lives as best ye all kin. Da end.

I hope ye all liked me story. I’ve got many a’more ‘en. I’d tell ye anither now, but I’ve got ta gits home ta beat me faggy, sissy-boy son fer bein’ such a damn fag ‘n a girly boy. Da damn queer bastard! ‘N after I beats ’em, I gots ta beats me wife fer havin’ dat faggy, sissy-man pansy in da first place. See ye all soon. Bye!

Lazarus, The World’s First Zombie, Talks

Hi, y’all. Lazarus here. You know, the guy Jesus brought back from the dead and then quickly abandoned, that Lazarus. I’m here cause I want to tell my story, a story I’ve been waiting to tell for over 2000 years.  It hasn’t been easy people. Really, it hasn’t. One minute there I was, deader than shit, then, BAM! I wake up smelling like the bowels of Hell itself from decay, and Jesus is standing there smiling with a big-ass crowd behind him. “Jesus,” I said, “is that you?” And he answers, “Of course, chowder head. Who else could’ve brought you back to life? Aren’t you happy I did this for you?”  “Hell, no!” I answered. “I smell like rot! I’ve been dead for days, you idiot! What the Hell were you thinking? I was in Heaven. Happy. Having a beer with some babe I just KNOW was really into me. And you drag my ass back down here. For what? To show off to the crowd that you’re god? You may be a god, Jesus, but you are a childish, brat of a god if you ask me. This SUCKS! Put me the way I was you ninny, or I’m telling your Pop you need a spanking when I go back to Heaven!” Well, needless to say, that wasn’t exactly the brightest thing to say at the moment, cause Jesus did not return me to Heaven, he just flipped me off and left with his big-ass audience right behind him. I haven’t heard from him since.

Jesus! Don't Just Leave Me Here Like This, Shouts Lazarus

Jesus! Don’t Just Leave Me Here Like This, Shouts Lazarus

So, there I was, reanimated, smelling of decay, and wrapped in bandages, all alone in front of my own grave. I knew that no one in their right mind would believe me if I said I’d just been brought back from the dead by Jesus, so I pretended to be a leper and hobbled on over to the nearest leper colony called, “Grounded Parts, Etc”, and lived there, as a tailor specializing in stitching fallen body parts back on to folks seamlessly, for about two centuries. I had already been dead, so I didn’t have to fear becoming infected with leprosy or dying. In time, the stench of the grave left me, and my looks returned to normal. I greatly desired to tell my story, especially as I saw a whole religion starting to develop around Jesus, who people were saying was this all-loving awesome dude. Fuck that. I knew for a fact he wasn’t that awesome at all of a dude. He fucked me, his pal, big time. I wouldn’t trust that bastard under any circumstance, let alone with the salvation of my soul. He didn’t save mine, he fucked it over and left me here on Earth with no way back to Heaven. But I was still in a powerless position, because I knew no one would believe my story. I left the leper colony, and moved to Rome with the money I’d saved up over the centuries. I bought some land and a few slaves (Yes, slaves. It was legal then, and I was nice to them. Nicer than Jesus was to me).  Even after Rome fell, I was able to keep my land and I grew very, very rich over the years.

I Wonder Where Jesus Is Off To?

I Wonder Where Jesus Is Off To?

I’ve lived through the rise and fall of Empires. I’ve seen man go from riding horses to flying in airplanes, and I’ve witnessed the rise and now decline of religions built on the falsehood that Jesus was a savior of some sort, that he was tortured and killed for our sins, and that he resurrected himself from the dead after lying in a grave for three days. This is all a lie. I know. I was there. Left, by Jesus, to bear witness to it all. Jesus got fed up with people here on Earth after Judas attempted to betray him. He saw that Judas was crucified for what he did, and then returned to Heaven without ever saying goodbye to anyone, even his apostles. It was Paul, St. Paul to many, who created Christianity, not Jesus. He was the L. Ron Hubbard of his day and created a religion just because he knew he could do it. Only now do I feel there may be some people who’ll believe my story and see the folly of believing in wild extraordinary stories about saviors and all-loving beings without evidence. If something sounds wildly fantastic and impossible, it more than likely is. I don’t get why this is so hard a concept to grasp. But, I’ve said my piece, and I’m off now to tend to my property in Europe. I’m not going to leave this planet anytime soon. Jesus made sure of that. Remember that, and me, Lazarus, the next time you think fondly of Jesus. That stinking rat bastard.

Robert The Reviewer: The Critical Scotsman

TACP is proud to welcome Robert the Reviewer to our team of ace reporters. He is joining us from Edinburgh, Scotland where he’s worked as a media critic for several years. He was recently let go from his position as Ace Media Critic at the Edinburgh Times after it was discovered he’d actually never seen any of the movies he reviewed or read any of the books he critiqued. He simply parroted what he heard others say about whatever it was he was reviewing or flat-out made up a review based on something entirely unrelated. Well, we here at TACP admire he’s gusto and his brogue, so we hired him to review movies and books for our readers and have encouraged him NOT to see or read them before hand. In a society filled with people who rarely bother with details, like checking the facts before expounding on a topic about which they clearly know nothing, we feel his brand of criticism will be refreshing and welcome. And now, without further ado, I give you, Robert the Reviewer with his review of the film “Twelve Years a Slave.”

Robert The Reviewer

Robert The Reviewer

“Hello there, laddies and lassies. This ‘ere ’tis me fine review fer “12 Years a Bloody Slave”.  What a ‘orrlble place it ’tis ta be in, bein’ a slave ta some o’ter man. It reminds me ov da time I twas huntin’ a farrgin’ Haggis beastie wit me very own laddie, Robert Jr, who’s a wee bit ov a faggy sissy boy, but I tries ta luv ’em anyways. We was standin’ on top da moors of Edinburgh, waitin’ fer dat faggy Haggis beastie ta leap from its den so’s we could kill ’em ‘n eat ’em. When alls ov a sudden, he leaps o’ us fro’ behind ‘n knocks us out.  I came back ta me senses to da sound ov me faggy, girlie man son cry’in like a babe fer ‘is mommy. “Shut up, ya farggin’ faggy boy!” I tellz ’em. “Ya kin act like a farggin’ man, or I’ll kills ya me damn self, ya farrgin’ faggy boy, ya! We’z got ta plan a way out o’ dis Haggis den or we’ll wind up as Haggis food.”

The Elusive And Deadly Haggis

The Elusive And Deadly Haggis

Well, dat shut me girlie man son up long enough fer me ta reach da double barrel shot-gun I’s alway’s keep’s stuffed up me arse when I goes Haggis huntin’. Me Da’ taught me dat trick, and it saved me life ‘n the life of me faggy boy son dat day we was slaves ta dat Haggis. I also blew da ‘ead right off dat Haggis dat day wit me shot-gun. Shot da bastard as ‘e was stickin’ ‘is ugly Haggis tongue out at me. ‘Den I went ‘ome wit it, beat me wife fer havin’ such a faggy girly man fer a son, an’ den we craved dat Haggis, fried ’em, ‘n ate dat enslavin’ bastard right up. To conclude, indeed, “12 Years a Bloody Slave” would ne’ be a thing I’d wish on me own faggy son, ken.”  So eat yer Haggis, and stay away from der dens if’n ye’d rather not spend 12 years a bloody slave ta one. Dis ‘ere ‘as been Robert the Reviewer, an’ I’m sayin’ so long ’til next time. ‘Bye.

God’s Non-Existence No Excuse For Bigotry, Says A-theist

Non-Believe It Or Else, Atheist Mega Church

Non-Believe It Or Else: A-theist Mega Church

A member of the “Non-Believe It Or Else” a-theist Mega Church in Corpus Christi, Texas today said God was a bigot and discriminates horribly against a-theists, even though he does not exist. “God’s non-existence does not excuse his treatment of a-theists,” said Joe Asinine, cannibal and head chef for the “Non-Believe It Or Else” restaurant and grill. “He allows Catholic Priests to rape little boys while the hierarchy of the Catholic Church moves them from one unknowing parish to another, thus allowing the rape to continue; yet, somehow, the Catholic Church, as an institution, has not been held accountable for doing this. Well, we a-theists want the SAME deal for our church leaders that they have! What, did you think JUST because someone’s a leader in an a-theist church they don’t crave the pleasure and power-rush of raping a child just as much as Catholic Priests do? Shit, if the a-theist leaders of a-theist Mega Churches were raping their child members and got caught, Christians would burn them alive for it. They sure as shit wouldn’t show them any special deference. Hell, Christians hate us just because we don’t believe in their particular god (and occasional eat their young). Imagine they’re feelings if we tossed some a-theist-leadership child-rapists into the mix as well, ouch!

Atheist Rapists Want The Same Deference This Priest Rapist Gets

Atheist Rapists Want The Same Deference This Priest Rapist Gets

BIGOTS! They’re fucking BIGOTS! And they’re non-existent god is as bigoted as they are for allowing them the deference to rape kids unheeded by the laws of man, while denying us the same deference simply because we know he isn’t real. This is the non-existent nothingness that is god fucking with our rape-rights to fresh child-meat, and it’s NOT FAIR!!!  Damn it! An a-theist child rapist who wants access to little boy ass, along with freedom from any serious retributions, would have to force himself to fake a belief in Jesus in order to become a rapist Catholic Priest. I truly resent people not granting the a-theist rapist members of my Mega Church the same deference they do Catholic Priest rapists simply because they do not believe in Jesus. This shows just how bigoted god and Christians truly are against a-theists. We can’t even get a break when we rape kids like they do. And that is bullshit, man. Pure and simple.”

The Fonz And The Burning Bush Cast In Batman vs Superman

superman-batman-logo-SDCCArthur Fonzarelli, of “Happy Days” fame, has been cast in “Batman vs Superman,” the sequel to last summer’s box office hit, “Man of Steel.” He will be playing, essentially, himself, as a high school history teacher who also happens to be a Burning Bush wielding superhero. ” Ehhhh! This is going to be…Cool…Really..Cool,” Fonzie said earlier today.

The Fonz

The Fonz

“I’m going to have this cool red convertible that can fly, as well as a special Fonzarelli back pack which will house a powerful secret weapon: God, in the form of the Biblical Burning Bush. It’s going to be an awesome weapon that even Superman would find hard to beat. Don’t let the fact that it’s a small, burning shrubbery allow you to forget it is also The Lord, God. I say this, in the film, every time I whip it out, light it up, and set it loose on wicked and unwary non-believers,” Fonzie concluded.

May Not Look Like Much, But It's God

May Not Look Like Much, But It’s God

“I’m ecstatic that the Burning Bush from the Bible is going to be in this film,” Zach Snyder, the film’s director, said.  “It’s usually too busy burning and torturing non-believers to even consider doing something like this, but it wanted to work with The Fonz, and actually was the one to ask me if I had a part for it to play. I’d have been a fool to have said no.”

Zach Snyder, Director

Zach Snyder, Director