About "Jimmy Christ"

"James The Just" just never "Jimbo"

Jimmy Christ is my parody account on twitter, (@Jimmy_Christ). Like most, if not all the people in the Bible, Jimmy is a fictional character. He is based on Jesus's brother James, perhaps better known by his saintly moniker, "James the Just." It is interesting to consider that Jesus had a brother. In fact, the Bible tells us that he had four brothers, James, Joses, Judas, ans Simon. Jesus also had sisters, but since women were mostly considered chattel at the time these stories were written, it is unknown how many he had, or even what their names were. Jimmy will sometimes refer to them as, "You know who," and "What's her face."

In my characterization of James, which is as accurate or inaccurate as any other, I find him to be slightly jealous of his more famous sibling. It's not easy for him to exist in the shadow of his brother, who is after all, God reincarnated. I mean, if we were to believe the Bible, God created men and women, then gave them original sin as punishment for eating a piece of fruit, then he impregnates a woman with himself so he can be born a man. Then once he has given himself the gift of life, he sacrifices himself, to himself to save mankind from the original sin he originally gave them. Let's face it folks, it's a back story that's hard to beat.

Jimmy does his best to level the playing field by posting embarrassing facts and pictures of Jesus on twitter. Often referring to him as "Mom's dirty little secret," he likes to point out that, "It's a little creepy to consider that my brother was inside my Mom before my Dad was." Jimmy has also taken advantage of social media to make such things known as,"While my brother would later be able to turn water into wine, as a child, Jesus was never able to hide the fact that he was a chronic bed wetter."

Jimmy let's us know that his brother has made frequent return visits to Earth

Jimmy lives in West Heaven in a Cul-de-sac. In fact, all the streets in Heaven are Cul-de-sacs because God's city planners used circular reasoning when they intelligently designed it's layout. Given this infinitely regressed street plan, Heaven can be a bit tedious to navigate. As a result, Jimmy spends most of eternity on his own Cul-de-sac, throwing parties and BBQ's for his neighbors.

Jimmy is not particularly fond of some of his neighbors. His least favorite are Zeus ans Odin, who share the home next door to his right. It's not that he is bothered by their alternative life style, or all of the "Thunder clapping and lightning bolt tossing that goes on until the wee hours of the morning." Jimmy, it seems, is considerably annoyed by Zeus's inexorable habit of calling him "Jimbo."

Eight legs of Easter Bunny stomping fury

However, Jimmy has found that he really likes his new neighbor, an English writer by the name of Christopher Hitchens. "Hitch," as Jimmy likes to call him, has taken up residence in the home immediately to his left. The house was formerly occupied by the Easter Bunny, who moved out because he was tired of being trampled by Odin's eight legged Sleipnir. Hitch spends most of his time writing scathingly disputatious letters to the editor of "The West Heaven Gazette." Jimmy has remarked that, "if I didn't know any better, I'd swear that Hitch doesn't believe in a single thing about the place."

Hitch, right at home in Heaven

Despite his sibling rivalry with Jesus, and his inability to love some of his neighbors, Jimmy is an easy going fellow who spends most of his eternal glory playing X-Box and lazing with his dog, Dawkins. He also enjoys long conversations with Hitch on his deck which has a commanding view of both the Earth and a giant spinning tea pot. One of their favorite pastimes is a drinking game where they have to take a shot of bourbon every time they see the Flying Spaghetti Monster whiz by. Hitch does have one habit that Jimmy finds disturbing. I t seems that every time the Vatican is directly below, Hitch will urinate on it from his deck.

I must say that I am slightly envious of Jimmy's time line. While as he puts it, "Unlike my brother Jesus, I follow back," he tends invariably to follow mostly atheists and people who are interested in science. If you are a follower I hope you enjoy his divinely inspired tweets. Just like the Bible stories they are all make believe, yet conversely, they are all for fun.

Sapere aude, and may Zeus preserve you! 
Oh, and may Odin's eight legged Sleipnir never trample you!

WATER UNDER THE BRIDGE: Part Two

"The only reason for time is so that everything doesn't happen at once."  ~Albert Einstein

"One death is a tradgedy;

one million is a statistic."

~Joseph Stalin

  I said I felt odd scanning the names of passengers of the Titanic to see if I had "pretend" lived or died, and that I would feel especially uncomfortable doing the same thing with a list of victims from The World Trade Center. This, given my emotional ties and relative proximity to the event on the river of time, but I have to admit that I would eventually reach a point far enough downstream to a place in the past where I just wouldn't be effected. And pretty quickly too.

 If I were to circumnavigate certain personal tragedies in my own life, I would imagine that somewhere just past the Space Shuttle Challenger, Vietnam, and World war II, -those last two only because of older relatives and friends, I would find myself in uncharted emotional territory. In the grand scheme of things, If you were to display it by a map with a long river representing time and a boat to indicate how far I just traveled on my journey of emotional relevance, you wouldn't even have seen the boat budge.

...So what would it mean to me to go further back?

"What does NASA stand for? Need Another Seven Astronauts."

This was one of many jokes about the Challenger disaster.  I remember that it took almost two weeks before I started to hear jokes about the tradgedy. Things spread by word of mouth back then. Perhaps the internet would have sped that process up. It's darkly funny now, but it was horrible to hear not long after the actual event.

  It is said that between the time he came roaring out of the Steppes on his war horse and until he died, Genghis Khan's short lived Mongolian Empire Slaughtered somewhere in the neighborhood of 30-40 million people.These were living, breathing people who had hopes and dreams just like Millvina's family along with everyone else on board the Titanic and at the World Trade Center. Most, (probably all.) of Khan's victims died savage, brutally horrific deaths, (as did the Cathars.) and yet, if you gave me a list with their names, it might take a hell of a long time, but I could mention everyone of them in any context with no emotional attachment whatsoever.

“I am the punishment of God...If you had not committed great sins, God would not have sent a punishment like me upon you.”

~Genghis Kahn

 All of this begs the question, "So what did you accomplish here?" Well, I certainly haven't broke any new ground by revealing that "Time heals all wounds" or that "Time lends perspective." I'm also fairly certain that that while the little monkey-men who first hopped out of the trees to brave the Savannah may not have been have been aware of this axiom, certainly those who lived within a short time-boat ride forward were. Actually, I wrote all this to ask you a question..."If the passage of time heals wounds and lends perspective, why don't we ever learn anything from it?

"The difference between false memories and true ones is the same as for jewels: it is always the false ones that look the most real, the most brilliant."

~Salvador Dali

 Accidental tragedies such as the Titanic and Challenger will most assuredly always happen, but why is there no end to atrocity? What do we ever really learn from history? If it can be said that the common goal of all modern societies is to minimize or end human suffering, then why don't we ever seem to make significant strides? Yes, it is understood that there are evil people in this world, and not because the influence of some fictional devil, demon, or jinn, but rather because of a complex mixture of contributing factors, such as, but certainly not limited to mental disorder, drug and alcohol abuse, chemical imbalance, oppression, improper nurturing due to physical and mental abuse, poverty and/or lack of education, etc. It would appear that people, much like disasters, can be the culmination of a series of mistakes and misfortunes.

Gorby and Ronnie square off.

 You may point to events within my own lifetime to illustrate progress, for example the end of the Cold War and the understanding between the United States and what used to be the U.S.S.R. of mutually assured destruction. However, I would caution you to hazard a glance at India and Pakistan. With a whole lot of spilt blood and no love lost between them, (and a fuck-load of nukes) they stand poised to bring nuclear holocaust to the entire planet as a means of settling a very old score. Millions have died already in their previous conflicts. So what was the catalyst for this suffering and senseless loss of human life? If you answered differences with a regard to an invisible guy in the sky, I'd say,"Bingo."

It's all fun and games until it goes thermonuclear.

 Can we blame the invisible guy? As a de facto-atheist, I would say no. We can't blame that guy, not unless we stand ready to blame ourselves. After all, we invented him. While there are many vehicles for evil, religion just happens to be one of the most fuel efficient. The problem is more complex, part of a much larger series of mistakes and misfortunes. A disaster that gained momentum a very long time ago. With over 7 billion of us on this planet now, the variables are endless.

 National Geographic did a study recently where they used a worldwide database of human physical characteristics and pictures of faces to determine what the average person on Earth looked like. When they were done crunching all the numbers, (and faces.) they came up with Han, a 28 year old Chinese man. Han represents what the most common person on earth looks like, how old and what nationality that person is. In other words, Han is the ultimate average Joe.

Meet Han, the ultimate average Joe

 I sometimes think that if they did that same study using the worldwide compiled statistics of human personalities, behavior and intellect, they would come up with somebody who was a complete ignorant asshole. Insert here the name of the person that you know who most accurately fits this description, but keep in mind that he is the average of all of us.

 I'm not about to tell you that I have a solution for the world's problems. Most days, I have trouble remembering where I put my shoes. But then, that's part of the problem too. It's the other thing that that the river of time erodes, memory. We seem to forget the folly of our ways, making it possible to repeat our mistakes. Mistakes that usually conclude with a solemn, "Never again." Unfortunately, as finite beings, we have as much trouble wrapping our heads around the concept of never as we do with forever.

It's not always easy looking back at time to try and learn important lessons. So much of it has passed by that it tends to get compressed when we view it as a whole. We sometimes imagine that events happen in rapid succession and don't appreciate the vast gaps that actually exist between them. It may seem counterintuitive, but Tyrannosaurus-Rex lived closer in time to the Moon Landing than it did to Stegosaurus. Cleopatra lived closer in time to the Moon Landing than she did to the construction of the Great Pyramid of Giza. And the Moon itself was formed closer in time to the Moon Landing than the Big Bang.

 Interestingly, the footprints on the Moon from the Moon Landing will remain there for an estimated 1,000,000 years.

Talk about long lasting impressions!

Perhaps I've come across a little negative here. I should point out that I do see the good in people. I notice the positive impacts  that some of us have on each other, and sometimes, in very rare cases, on the world. I see small but steady advances in the decline of racial intolerance and bigotry. I am encouraged by improvements in women's equality and the acceptance of "different" people, the sort of people that some ancient, backwards thinking "Holy" books condemn to death.

 When you consider that just 58 years ago Rosa Parks, after a long day at work, was arrested for not giving her seat up in the "negro section" of a bus because a white person needed a place to sit, you begin to realize that in the here and now, the river of time flows excruciatingly slow, almost stagnantly when it comes to progress. Yet, if we were to look back, way upstream to a time when we once thought the Sun was a god and that human sacrifice was a viable option for mitigating day to day problems; we can appreciate just how far it is that we've come.

 It's painfully apparent that we are not where we need to be yet. It is also hard to see from this point in time, what if anything will unite us all towards the common goal of reducing or ending all suffering and senseless loss of human life. It has been said that only a alien invasion would unite us all. As unlikely as such an event as this is, I do believe it would work. At least for a little while.

Can aliens unite us?

 Remember how we all felt just after 9/11? Everyone was flying flags from their homes and cars. All of us behaving just a little bit nicer towards our fellow Americans, ill regardless of race or creed, or political affiliation. We were all united against a dark force, an "Axis of Evil." Do you remember when it suddenly became "unpatriotic" and "pro-terrorism" to criticize the government?

If they told us on September 12th, 2001 that it was necessary to invade Canada, we wouldn't have blinked.

 Of course, that state of mind is very dangerous too. Just look at the primrose path of destruction and erosion of civil liberties we have allowed ourselves to be led down. If the terrorist's goal was to hurt our economy and restrict our freedoms, I would have to say,"Mission accomplished."

Derp!

Tick-tock.

 Tempus fugit, always flowing in one direction, forward, and yet we buck the current. It's the 21st century, and a staggering amount of us still embrace ancient ideas scratched on goat skin by first century barbarians. Incredibly flawed concepts such as slavery, racial intolerance, hatred of homosexuals, genital mutilation and honor killings. With or without these ancient ideas, there never seems to be a shortage of men willing to crush and slaughter each other for personal gain and power. Hatred abounds with groups of people who deny the Holocaust ever even happened. There are rumors that European teachers are dropping the the study of the Holocaust completly so as not to offend the delicate sensibilities of their Muslim students. People have been murdered over books and cartoons, Organizations like the Westboro Baptist church cheerfully picket the funerals of U.S. soldiers to spread their message of hatred and intolerance towards gay people.

And so it goes.

Actually, if there were a god, he would probably hate signs.

 The longevity problem for peace in terms of our alien invasion scenario is that while we would certainly be united, one and all against these theoretical space invaders, the very moment we defeated them, or that they should remember an important engagement elsewhere in the universe, we would go right back to our old ways of social dysfunction. Just as we have since that picture perfect, brilliantly cloudless day when the towers fell. We would once again forget the important lessons learned. Our memories would simply erode and wash away all our progress, just like water under the bridge

Sapere aude and may Zeus preserve you!.

WATER UNDER THE BRIDGE: Part One

"I believe we are a species with amnesia, I think we have forgotten our roots and our origins. I think we are quite lost in many ways. And we live in a society that invests huge amounts of money and vast quantities of energy in ensuring that we all stay lost. A society that invests in creating unconsciousness, which invests in keeping people asleep so that we are just passive consumers or products and not really asking any of the questions."

~ Graham Hancock

Ticking away the moments 

That make up a dull day 

Fritter and waste the hours 

In an off-hand way 

~Time~Pink Floyd

Years ago, when my kids were much younger and fewer in number, I took them to a local fair. It was a very small ordeal with few attractions, but the perfect sort with which to distract those under the age of ten. You know the type, a couple of concession stands, some games, a pony and a handful of small scale amusement rides. The exact type of fair that disaffected, Ipod toting, braces-laced teenagers would rather have to shove rusty razor blades into their eyeballs then be forced to attend. So again, for my needs, perfect.

The main attraction was a giant, inflatable bouncy-bounce, or jumpy-jump. I would imagine the whimsical names associated with these things vary around the country. For the uninitiated, they are large inflatable vinyl structures that kids can jump and bounce around on with reckless abandon. This particular one was fairly large. It stood nearly twenty feet tall and towered over the Thomas The Tank Engine train ride that meandered around a small circular track next to this monstrosity.

Children ran maniacally up the back side of the rubber mountain to slide or tumble down the front in an endless conga line of the type of fun that only the very young can have. As I drew closer, I realized the bouncy-bounce wasn't a mountain at all. It was actually a ship. It had been crafted to look like an ocean liner with it's stern tipped way up into the air and it's bow plunged into the murky depths of what was the grassy field of our local township's police station. As kids careened down it's deck, bouncing and slamming off it's smoke stacks I realized that it was a crude, yet unmistakable recreation of the H.M.S. Titanic, forever frozen in her final death plunge into the icy Atlantic deep.

Watery grave simulating kiddie ride

 Standing there on this picture perfect, brilliantly cloudless day, drenched in the cacophony of noise generated by the high pitched screams and laughs of enthralled snot-nosed rug-rats, I had a very odd thought. It struck me that this ride was wildly inappropriate, or at least, that it would have been not that long ago. The impetus behind that thought was the memory of another picture perfect, brilliantly cloudless day just a few years before. A day that would forever change the American way of life and scar the hearts of it's citizens, Tuesday, September 11, 2001.

Half as many people died in the frigid waters of the Atlantic when the Titanic sank as did in downtown Manhattan when the towers fell, yet in their own time each had the same impact in terms of shock and anguish over the suffering and senseless loss of human life. While  we remain emotionally tethered to the events of 9/11, the water of time coursing under the bridge of history has eroded the degree of emotion that we hold in our hearts for the Titanic.

Millvina Dean, the last living survivor of the Titanic, who was just two months old when the ship hit an iceberg about 400 miles south of Newfoundland, died in her sleep in 2009 at the age of 97. It is perhaps fitting that someone who, against all odds had escaped almost certain death at a very young age, went on to live a long life. One of 706 survivors, she died in Southampton, England, the city that her family had meant to leave behind for a new life in America.

Millvina Dean

Millvina's family was never meant to be on the Titanic, but due to a coal strike they were transferred from another ship. When the Titanic hit the iceberg, Millvina's father, who was apparently unconvinced of the ship's "practically unsinkable" status, rushed his family from their third-class quarters below deck to the lifeboats immediately. It was a move that most assuredly saved Millvina's life as there were not enough lifeboats to accommodate all the passengers on board. Swaddled in a sack, she was lowered along with her two year old brother and mother into lifeboat number 13. Her father told her mother goodbye and that he would "be along later." Her brother and mother survived along with Millvina, but they never saw her father again.

Millvina and her brother Bertram

Millvina obviously had no memories of the tragedy. She had no idea that she was even on the Titanic until she was eight years old, when her mother, who was about to remarry, explained to her how her father had died. She would tell the press in 1997 that she not only had no memories of the sinking, but indicated by saying, "I wouldn't want to remember, really" that it was exactly how she preferred it. The last surviving person who had memories of the event was Lillian Asplund, who was five years old at the time. She died in 2006 at the age of 99. The chance of there being any one alive today with strong emotional ties to the Titanic is unlikely. At least, no one who would take umbrage with the watery grave simulating kiddie ride that stood before me.

 So why did I care? The Titanic sank in 1912. I was born in 1966, and as far as I know, I am not related to any of the lost souls of the Titanic. The truth was, I really didn't care. In my head though, I played a little mind game. I wondered just how far down the stream of time, past the Titanic and through the land of "Tragedy Themed Bouncy-Bounces" you would have to go before people actually did begin to care. How about you play with me now? I should think we would need only to paddle a few short decades. Imagine that we we have now arrived at the "USS Arizona Bouncy-bounce." Any one offended yet? I bet there are still a few old timers around that wouldn't appreciate this ride. Paddling on then. Hey, would anyone care to disembark at the "Auschwitz Bouncy-bounce?" You probably get the point by now.

 I just couldn't help but wonder, how much time would have to pass before a "Twin Towers Bouncy-bounce" wouldn't be obscene? You may think it will never be appropriate, and you're right of course, but there will definitely be a time in the future, providing this country and/or planet has one, that the level of emotions tied to 9/11 will be so diminished, that literally no one will care.

It's not what you think, or is it?

 I'm writing this in early June of 2013, and if you are reading it shortly after I post it then you are probably aware of the Boston Marathon bombing. Perhaps you just felt your body temperature rise slightly, especially if you know, or are related to anyone injured or killed in this tragic event. you might be thinking, "I hope this guy doesn't make a joke about this. It's too soon!" Don't worry, I just wanted to make a point about suffering and senseless loss of human life, and I don't plan on mentioning it here again. Why? Because it is too soon.

 I lost a good friend and neighbor on 9/11. He was on the 105th floor of the One World Trade Center building. He was murdered because someone's belief in an invisible man in the sky compelled them to hijack a plane full of people and crash it into his office. Again, suffering and senseless loss of human life. I will not mention his name because even after twelve years, I wouldn't want to upset his family. There just hasn't been enough water under the bridge for me to take that liberty yet, and there may never be. I can tell you with all certainty that there will never be a point in my life where I wouldn't be offended by a 9/11 themed amusement ride.

 Recently, my wife and I were fortunate enough to get a chance to visit the Titanic Artifact Exhibition that is making it's way around the country. It was launched last year to commemorate the 100th year anniversary of the event. I've always been fascinated by the tragic tale of the Titanic. They say every disaster is a small series of mistakes and misfortunes. She had plenty of both. (The Titanic, not my wife. unless of course, you count me.) The exhibit is amazing. The condition of a lot of the items brought up was unbelievable. Some of them look brand new while most are far worse for the wear of sea water, depth pressure and of course, time.

Ticket to ride.

When you enter the exhibit, they give you a boarding pass. However, it's not your name that appears on it, but the actual name of and personal information of one of the passengers on board the Titanic when it sank. My wife was Dr. Alice Leader, age 49 from New York. She was accompanied by a friend named Frederick J. Smith. While Alice had practiced pediatric medicine, she had no children of her own. Like Millvina's family, Alice had boarded the Titanic in Southampton. Having retired from her medical practice in Lewiston, Maine, after the death of her husband in 1908, Alice was returning from a holiday in Europe.

Dr. Alice Leader

 I was representing Sir Cosmo Edmund Duff Gordon, aged 49 who lived in both London England and Paris France. He was accompanied by his wife, Lady Duff Gordon and her secretary, Laura M. Francatelli. Sir Cosmo's wife owned "Madame Lucille" a high end fashion boutique with stores in Paris, London, Chicago, and New York. They were traveling to New York because Lady Duff Gordon had urgent business there to attend to. She usually traveled alone, but Cosmo chose to join her on this trip. Cosmo was a proficient fencer and represented Great Britain in the 1908 Olympics. The Olympics were originally supposed to be held in Rome, but were relocated to London due to a disastrous eruption of Mt. Vesuvius.

Sir Cosmo

Lady Duff

 I can't say enough about how interesting the exhibit is and highly recommend it to anyone who is even remotely interested in the Titanic. There is an unexpected, strong emotional feeling when looking at the personal belongings of people who for many, saw the trip as a journey to a new life. I don't know why, but ever since I was very young I wondered what it would be like to hold or at least touch something from the Titanic. Much to my surprise I was able to do just that. In a glass display there is a wooden stanchion, or bracket from the ship. You are allowed to reach your fingers through a small hole in the glass and feel it. It was a very unique piece of history to be able to touch. Yet, what touched me more was what waited at the end of the exhibit.

 There was a large passenger manifest on the wall. All the names of those who were aboard the Titanic were arranged by the class that they had traveled in with a notation next to their name about whether they had lived or died. Cosmo and Alice had been traveling in first class. I knew that we had a greater chance of surviving because of these arrangements. Those traveling in steerage had less favorable odds. Yet, I still had this strange sense of dread as I scanned the board for our names.

 As it turns out, we lived. The strange sense of dread I had just experienced had just been replaced with an equally odd sense of relief. Then I started to think about the idea of what we had just done.While the museum exhibit handled this process very respectfully, it was still a bit macabre. Let's do that small shift in time again. Let's let a little more water flow under that bridge. Now imagine you are holding a time clock punch card with the name of an employee of Cantor Fitzgerald at a 9/11 exhibit and suddenly, it's a bit more morbid. In fact, it's pretty damned creepy.

 There is no denying that this type of exhibit can be done respectfully and actually have a positive impact, if only to make us keenly aware of our past mistakes. Witness the U.S. Holocaust Museum in New York City where there is a room filled just with the shoes of death camp victims. Hundreds of them are baby shoes. You probably don't need to see it in order to understand that genocide is a bad idea, but it doesn't hurt to perturb your emotions in such a way as to "Never Forget."

 Our emotional perspective of large horrific events in time seem to bend and curve, like light effected by great mass in space. They become distorted as well as diminished. In debates with Christian apologists I will often bring up the Albigensian Crusades, which were launched by Pope Innocent III, and which claimed the lives of an estimate 1,000,000 people in a 20 year slaughter over differing opinions about an invisible man in the sky.

No, It's not Jerry Seinfeld. It's Pope "Not so" Innocent III

In short, the campaign was meant to drive out the Cathars, who were deemed 'heretics' from the Langue doc region in Southern France. One of the more famous slaughters was the attack on Beziers in 1209. Crusaders were told that the entire city was inhabited by agents of Satan, and therefore needed to be destroyed. To sum up briefly, almost every man, woman and child was viciously murdered. Even those that took refuge in churches were burnt alive in them. Concerned that they might kill Catholics the crusaders appealed to the Abbot Arnaud Amuary, who was a papal legate. His answer might be familiar to you. Perhaps you've seen his most famous quote, somewhat distorted itself, on a tee-shirt or tattoo or in war movie, "Kill them all and let God sort them out!"

 What this "Holy man" actually said was, "Caedite eos. Novit enim Dominus qui sunt eius." (Kill them all, for the Lord knoweth them that are his.) Whatever it is he said or did not say, and whether they were Catholic or Cathar, somewhere between 7,000 and 20,000 of them where butchered in that particular siege. So what do the Apologists say? "That was a long time ago." seems to be the most often repeated explanation. That and, "It was God's will." As if the passage of time and blessings of a make-believe person somehow lessen the suffering and senseless loss of human life. One of the most famous Jews to ever live, no, not Jesus, but Albert Einstein, taught us that time is relevant to the observer. It would appear that there is an emotional constant that is effected by the fourth dimension as well.

This concludes the end of Part One. Please reading continue in WATER UNDER THE BRIDGE: Part Two.

Until then, may Zeus preserve you and Sapere aude!

THIRTEEN PAGES DEEP: Page Five, Part One

"Religions are the conclusions for which the facts of nature supply no major premises"
Ambrose Bierce

Believe it or not folks, we still have another whole page yet to examine before we are finally through with Noah's fantastic voyage. Just like page four, I will be splitting five into two parts. There is entirely too much lunacy here to gloss over quickly. Hopefully you visited the link I provided at the end of my last posting to examine some of the questions posited by Mark Isaak. Although I suspect most of you probably don't require too much more evidence to be convinced that this story doesn't hold water. In modern times, when the validity of this tall tale is questioned we are told that it is allegory. That while the Bible is the literal word of God, we shouldn't take it literally. Confused yet? Well it could be worse, it wasn't that long ago when you could be burned at the stake for pointing out biblical absurdities and inconsistencies.

There was a time when "debating" Christianity was ill advised.

Alright, let us now gird up our loins as well as our suspension of disbelief for the task at hand. Page five begins with Genesis 7:20, "Fifteen cubits upward did the waters prevail; and the mountains were covered." Basically, what we are being told here is that up until this point, it rained at such a rate as to be just around twenty-six feet shy from the top of Mt. Everest. Then, by the end of forty days, it rained enough to cover it's peak. By this account it rained fifteen hundred feet per day. So, lets put our thinking caps on. There are one thousand, four hundred forty minutes in a day, that would mean twelve and a half inches of rain fell each minute.  Not only would the friction created by the energy of so much rain falling at once create enough heat to boil everyone alive on the ark, it's downward force would be powerful enough to sink an aircraft carrier, let alone a wooden ship made by a goat herder in the desert. I really would like to drop the mic at this point, turn my back on the crowd and saunter off stage, but for shits and giggles, let's continue...

Genesis 7:21 draws the natural conclusion to completely submerging the earth under water, "...all flesh died that moved upon the earth,..." Um, duh. It goes on clarify what is meant by flesh, i.e. fowl, cattle, beast, creepy crawly things and of course, man. And just in case you didn't get the point, Genesis 7:22 needlessly adds, "All in whose nostrils was the breath of life, and all that was in the dry land died." This, my friends, makes for a wonderful children's story. Imagine the abject horror of knowing that EVERYONE and EVERYTHING, except for your few family members, died a violent and painful death.

 The 2011 Tohoku earthquake and subsequent tsunami, claimed 15,878 lives, injured 6,126, and left 2,713 people missing. So far, 1.5 million tons of debris have washed up on the shores of North America. Authorities are now warning that in the coming months, hundreds of bones are on the way and will also begin washing up, most of them will be feet in sneakers. Horrible right? As powerful of a demonstration of the capacity of nature's devastation as the Tsunami was, it pales in comparison to the aftermath of a "global flood." Imagine the gruesome carnage that would be left in it's wake. People, if you are spinning this yarn to your children, at the very least, don't make it a bedtime story.

Perhaps tales of global genocide aren't the best choice for children, rainbows or not.

A really good point is raised in Genesis 7:23 "And every living substance was destroyed which was upon the face of the ground..." Yeah, guess what. When you cover grass, trees, shrubbery and all other forms of vegetation under miles of water for over a year, it all dies. And much more than likely, never to return again. Which begs the question, what did Noah, his family and all the animals do without these things when they got off the boat? But let's not get ahead of ourselves, more hilarity is set to ensue. This joyful passage concludes with "...and Noah only remained alive, and they that were with him on the ark." Right.

Chapter seven concludes with 7:24 and some more math. "And the waters prevailed upon the earth an hundred and fifty days." So, we add 150 days to the original 40 days of rain and we get 190. Which means we are now a little over six months into this ridiculous nautical farce. Perhaps "the waters prevailed" meant as long as the ark had it's full draught of water. One scholar has pointed out that "It is probable that they were still rising during the first half of the 150 days, and then gradually sinking during the other half." I would like to point out that it is as equally "probable" that blue monkeys flew out of Noah's ass.

It is quite possible that this blue monkey flew out of Noah's ass.

Chapter eight. "And God remembered Noah, and every living thing, and all the cattle that was with him in the ark:..." I should hope he remembered them, considering that he had just killed every other living organism in the known universe. "...and God made a wind to pass over the earth, and the waters assuaged." What kind of wind "assuages" 4.4 billion kilometers of water? You know what, never mind. Anyway, God simultaneously turns off the spigot of "the fountains of the deep" and the "windows of the heavens" thus ending the most fantastic rainstorm that never happened.

In Genesis 8:3 we learn that God must have installed one hell of a French drain system in the earth during the creation because after he puts a cap on his cosmic fire hydrant "...the waters returned from off the earth continually: and after the end of the hundred and fifty days the waters were abated." after this amazing display of drainage, we arrive at Genesis 8:4. "And the ark rested on the seventh month, on the seventeenth day of the month, upon the mountains of Ararat." 

So, what do we know about Mt. Ararat? well, today it is a snow capped, dormant volcano that last erupted in 1840.  it's elevation is 16,854 feet and it is located in Turkey. it is the national symbol of the Republic of Armenia, and is prominently displayed on it's coat of arms. Why? Well, in Armenian mythology, Mt. Ararat was believed to be home to the Armenian gods. These deities were thought to hang out high in Mt.Ararat's peaks in much the same way that Zeus and his posse malingered atop Mt. Olympus.

Zeus and pals, chillin' like a villain. 

It is believed that ancient Armenians were originally worshipers of nature who eventually made the shift to a pantheon of national gods , many of which were the basic equivalents of the gods in the Roman, Greek and Persian cultures. Very little is known about Armenian mythology because after their national religion became Christianity, they burned all of the old temples, Songs and poetry, leaving very few trace remnants of information behind to decipher. Today, 97% of Armenians are Christian. But what caused this left turn from polytheism to monotheism? Well, that's an amusing story as well.

The story begins with a fellow by the name of Tiridates III The Great, who was the son of king Khosrov II of Armenia. In 252 CE a Parthain agent named Anak, (He was actually a Arsacid prince) was contracted by Ardashir I (The first king and founder of the Sassanid Empire.) to put a hit on Khosrov II, which he successfully completed. Anak was captured and killed for his crime, as were most of his family because that's how they rolled back in the day. Anak had an infant son who survived his family's massacare. The baby was whisked away to live secretly in Caesaria, in Cappadocia. (historical region in Central Anatolia, Turkey.) Tiridates III, now the only air to the throne, was also whisked away as an infant, (This is starting to sound a little like the back story to Dreamworks Animation's  movie "Megamind.") to Rome where he was raised and schooled in languages and military warfare. He became known as "a brave and strong warrior who participated in many battles against his enemies." In short, he was a bad ass dude.

Tiridates III of Armenia, aka BMF.

The Parthians by now had been replaced by the Sassinids, who were the last pre-Islamic Persian empire which encompassed all of modern day Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan, Eastern Syria, Armenia, Georgia, Azerbaijan, Dagestan, Southwestern Central Asia, parts of Turkey, some coastal parts of the Arabian Peninsula, the Persian Gulf area and bits of Pakistan. In 270 CE, Roman emperor Aurelian had to engage in battle with them as they encroached on Rome's Eastern front. Aurelian was able to drive them back and in 287 CE Tiridates returned to Armenia, as the true heir to the Persian occupied Armenian throne. He raised an army and drove the Persians out of Armenia for good.

Upon his triumphant return to Armenia, Tiridates III established the city of Vagharshapat, which was to be the capital city of his kingdom.(As it was in the days of his murdered father before him.) Remember the infant son of Anak the assassin? Well he turns up again while Tiridates III is holding shit down in Armenia. His name was Greg, (Grigor Luisavorich). Later Greg would be known as Gregory the Illuminator, but we'll get to that in a bit. Anyway, feeling guilty about his father's crime, Greg joins the Armenian army and actually gets a gig as Tiridates III's secretary. He was a Christian convert, as were a lot of folks in Armenia by the end of the third century. However, most people were still pagan polytheists, as was their good King Tiridates III who worshipped various ancient deities. Needless to say, Tiridates III and Greg's relationship was doomed from the very start.

One fateful day, on the feast of the goddess Anahit, Tiridates III told Greg to lay a wreath of flowers at the feet of her statue. Greg refused, declaring his Christian faith. Bad idea. Tiridates III was infuriated by this infraction and his mood didn't improve when others chose this timely occasion to inform him that Greg was the son of his father's assassin. This awkward moment brought about a sour note to Anahits ceremony. Tiridates III rectified the situation by tossing Greg into Khor Virap, a hellish, underground dungeon where Greg was tortured and literally left to rot.

The pagan goddess Anahit. She may not look like much now, but she was a beautiful bronze statue back in the day. The head currently resides in the British museum. Hopefully the Brits will see fit to return her, as the Armenians have lost so much of their ancient culture.

While Greg withered in the bowels of Khor Virap, a group of virgin nuns, seeking asylum from religious persecution in Rome fled to Armenia. Tirridates III heard about these nuns, more directly he had heard that one of them was a complete hottie. He had the nuns brought to his palace and demanded that Rhipsime, the aforementioned hottie, marry him. When the virgin nun refused he saved face by torturing and killing all of them. Legend has it that Tiridates III then went mad and wandered around in the woods "like a wild boar." His sister, Kosrhovidukht, had a dream that Greg was still alive and was the only person who could save Tirridates III from his madness.

The pit at Khor Virap, where Greg was left to die.

Thirteen years had passed since Greg was left for dead without food or water, Considering this, Tiridates III did not have much faith in Greg being in any kind of condition to help anyone. However he gave into his sister's persistence and sent for him. He fully expected to be presented with a pile of bones, but instead, Greg was miraculously still alive, albeit severely malnourished. Overwrought with emotion, Tiridates III was said to be cured of his illness upon seeing Greg and instantly made Christianity the official religion of Armenia, thus making Armenia the first Christian nation in the world. He also made Greg, now Gregory the Illumionator, Catholicos, or leader of the Armenian Apostolic Church. Gregory personally baptized Tiridates III and after his death, Gregory would be canonized as the Armenian Apostolic Church's patron saint.
Talk about a comeback!

The transition from Pagan Polytheism to Christianity did not not go smoothly. When met with resistance, Tirridates III tried to use armed force to convert the Pagans. Battles erupted between the kings army and the Pagan resistors. It was Tirridates III who destroyed most of the countless temples and statues and had burned many of the pagan written documents, leaving Armenia bereft of huge chunk of it's history and culture. Tirridates III died in 330 CE. It is believed that he was poisoned by his members of his own royal kingdom.

It was later discovered, or perhaps known all along by others that a kindly old lady had kept St. Gregory the Illuminator alive while he was imprisoned by tossing him a loaf of bread every day. So much for miracles.

Breathtaking view of the monastery Khor Virap with Mt. Ararat in background. As a typical "Ugly American" I never realized Armenia was so beautiful. But seriously, you can see a couple of giraffes and EVERY other living organism on the planet  making it safely down that mountain, right?

So, based on the many speculated upon places of origin for the starting point of the Noah's journey, we are to believe that the ark traveled at the least, just over five hundred miles and at the most, just under a thousand miles before coming aground atop Mt. Ararat. That's a pretty neat trick when you consider that the ark was cast about for over a year, rudderless, weathering a storm in orders of magnitude large enough to cover the entire earth's surface above, and beyond it's highest peak. Yet, I suppose it's not too far fetched when you stop and think about some of the things we have been asked to believe thus far. And folks, I remind you, we are not even at the half way point of page five.


Genesis 8:5 "And the waters decreased continually until the tenth month: in the tenth month, on the first day of the month, were the tops of the mountains seen." According to Bishop Usher, this would be Sunday, the nineteenth of July. Don't ask. Anyway, Genesis 8:6 says, "And it came to pass at the end of forty days, that Noah opened the window of the ark which he had made:" You know, the one 18" x 18" window that served as a vent for fresh air and to release smoke from cooking and the stench of 16,000 animals and eight humans for over a year. Yeah, that one.

Noah chucks a dove out the window, (pictured about actual size.) while the raven busies itself eating dead things.

Genesis 8:7-12 is just about verbatim a rip off of the old Sumerian texts, which again, predate this story somewhere between 1,000-3000 years. It's the bit about tossing birds out the window to see if they come back to determine whether or not there is any available dry land. Who said theists were un-scientific? But, before we examine these avian antics, I want to take a moment to recall an amusing little incident that occurred quite recently. An event that has some spurious ties to Genesis 8:7-12.

On August 7, 2012, heavier than normal monsoon rain inundated huge portions of the Philippines. It rained about 20 inches in one day in the capital city of Manila alone, displacing 130,000 people. Someone named "God Almighty" on the social networking site twitter, posted, "Genesis 8:7-12 is about Noah's ark. Today is 8-7-12." (it was, if you were to write the date the way Americans do, with the month first.) If you want to follow God almighty on twitter his account name is @Godstagram. As of this writing, he/she has 101.2k followers. I am not one of them. The tweet was retweeted nearly 10,000 times that day. The topic began to trend very quickly and by the day's end the trend had reached number two worldwide.

SPOILER ALERT! At the end of Noah's story, God promises not to drown the world out again. These folks have nothing to worry about.

Some people felt that this flood was God's wrath since the Filipino House of Representatives had just finished debates about their very controversial Reproductive Health bill. The bill would ensure universal access to contraceptives and sexual education for the people of the Philippines. The bill was signed on the Mayan projected end of the world, December 21, 2012. It is important to remember that 90% of the Philippines is Catholic. It is equally important to remember that August is the exact middle of the Philippines monsoon season. So far, no gods, Mayan or otherwise have returned to smite the Filipino people for the heinous sacrilege of trying to prevent unwanted pregnancies and the spread of sexually transmitted disease. Let's keep our fingers crossed.

So Noah chucks a bird out the window, a raven. According to translations of this verse, the raven flew around, ate from some floating dead things, and either returned to the ark to perch and was not admitted inside again, or In other accounts, "it was seen no more." Perhaps it went to visit a lonely old man who was mourning the loss of his lover, Lenore. "Nevermore."

"That's so Raven."

Noah then launches a dove from the ark, but the dove "...finds no rest for the sole of her feet." (It turns out that the shapes and sizes of bird's feet are used to learn a lot about the ecology of different species of birds, and that they do all in fact, have soles. I checked.) So the dove with the tired soles returns to the ark, whereupon Noah assumes the entire world is still under water and brings the dove back inside. Seven days later he tries again. This time, after some mucking about, the dove returns "and lo, in her mouth was an olive leaf pluckt off:" So Noah knew that the waters were abated off the earth." This leaf would have had to have been from a very special type of olive tree indeed.  Perhaps one that only existed in biblical times. An amphibious olive tree that could survive both underwater, withstanding immense pressures at great depths, for over a year, and then thrive on land when the waters receded. I want a couple of those olives in my next martini!

Noah chills "yet another seven days; and sent forth the dove; which returned not again unto him any more." Genesis 8:13 continues, "and it came to pass in the six hundredth and first year, in the first month, the first day of the month, the waters were dried up from off the earth: and Noah removed the covering of the ark, and looked, and behold, the face of the earth was dry." According to Bishop Usher this would be Friday, October 23, 1657. In the AM. I shit you not.

We'll finish this time with Genesis 8:14-17, which reads, "And in the second month, on the seven and twentieth day of the month, the earth was dried. And god spake unto Noah, saying, Go forth of the ark, thou, and thy wife, and thy sons, and thy son's wives with thee. Bring forth with thee every living thing that is with thee, of all flesh, both of fowl, and of cattle, and of every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth; that they may breed abundantly in the earth, and be fruitful, and multiply upon the earth."

And in my head I see Giraffes, and rhinos, horses, elephants and dinosaurs, and all manners "of all flesh, both of fowl, and of cattle, and of every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth" cascading down the sheer rock cliffs of Mt. Ararat's peaks in a giant, phylogenetically correct avalanche of death. And that kiddies, is the story of why there are no animals on the face of the earth today. No, wait, that's not how the story ends. When next we meet in Page five: Part two, we shall learn the true end of this cherished, amazingly genteel children's story.

Until then, may Zeus preserve you.