"It was hell," recalls former child.
Billy VerPlanck and his Orchestra also recorded some tracks on Lydia Lunch’s “Queen of Siam” album. Hot stuff!
How odd not to perceive lurking demons and spirits behind every tree or cloud. How very strange not to believe you’re under constant surveillance by the creator of all things. Like walking past a graveyard and realizing that all of its terrors are just dead people in boxes, quietly decomposing.
Lots of people will simply find another superstition to hang onto, like Newage, or Gopism. It’s so scary to live in a world devoid of invisible, intangible lurkers shooting nebulous rays at one another.
Or in favor of “none of the above,” on the part of those who’ve finally seen enough of what you get from mindlessly accepting “whatever Dad worshipped.”
Well, you’re on the internet. Go get ’em.
Thirty-five. Counted the same one three times, because it kept changing.
My point was that they’re both outside a possible human lifespan, so making that the criterion for infinity seems off, somehow.
Which explains why so much of the Bible consists of fanfic.
By the time that came out, I’d already read the National Lampoon reminiscences by Jesus’s cousin, Moishe the Greengrocer. My favorite bit in that was the narrator recounting how Jeez was a weird kid anyway, and the rest of the neighborhood urchins used to “leper” him—when he came along, they’d run off shouting “Ding ding Unclean!”
Is 150 years infinity?
Imagine how old Lennon’d be now if Billy Graham hadn’t put out a fatwa on him.