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Today I came up with the question: How much Jesus is too much Jesus?
And I also answered it. I have had so much Jesus today I'm suffering from an upset stomach. And my palms and ankles kind of hurt.
It occurred to me that there are a buttload of pictures of Jesus dying. Like, the guy seems to have done nothing of consequence in his life except come to the brutal end of it. He's constantly on crosses, being taken down from crosses, coming back and looking somewhat confused.
Furthermore, he almost always looks shocked. Shocked that the Romans are beating on him, shocked that he's getting crucified. But if he's the son of God, shouldn't he have seen that shit coming? And if I were him, I'd be pissed. I'd come back not with staffs and poetry but machine guns and machetes. Your Saviour's back, and he's here to clean house.
Anyway, the reason I haven't updated is because fuckalll happened Saturday and Sunday. I'm in Toledo now, which is a little town on a hilltop that should appear next to the dictionary definition of "quaint". It's got these twisting medieval streets and this high Gothic architecture and everything costs so much money. Really, it's 7 euros to get into the center cathedral and I'll be damned if I'm gonna spend my food budget for the week on some hoighty-toighty God shack.
But it's a very pretty city. Honestly, just walking around getting lost and elbowing tourists makes the trip worth it. There's gorgeous vistas in every directions, archways and plazas and it's all so nice I didn't even feel guilty eating my ham sandwich out of a plastic bag while the stench of two-day-old clothes repelled clean-shaven tourists.
Ah, travel.
And I also answered it. I have had so much Jesus today I'm suffering from an upset stomach. And my palms and ankles kind of hurt.
It occurred to me that there are a buttload of pictures of Jesus dying. Like, the guy seems to have done nothing of consequence in his life except come to the brutal end of it. He's constantly on crosses, being taken down from crosses, coming back and looking somewhat confused.
Furthermore, he almost always looks shocked. Shocked that the Romans are beating on him, shocked that he's getting crucified. But if he's the son of God, shouldn't he have seen that shit coming? And if I were him, I'd be pissed. I'd come back not with staffs and poetry but machine guns and machetes. Your Saviour's back, and he's here to clean house.
Anyway, the reason I haven't updated is because fuckalll happened Saturday and Sunday. I'm in Toledo now, which is a little town on a hilltop that should appear next to the dictionary definition of "quaint". It's got these twisting medieval streets and this high Gothic architecture and everything costs so much money. Really, it's 7 euros to get into the center cathedral and I'll be damned if I'm gonna spend my food budget for the week on some hoighty-toighty God shack.
But it's a very pretty city. Honestly, just walking around getting lost and elbowing tourists makes the trip worth it. There's gorgeous vistas in every directions, archways and plazas and it's all so nice I didn't even feel guilty eating my ham sandwich out of a plastic bag while the stench of two-day-old clothes repelled clean-shaven tourists.
Ah, travel.
I learned everything I know about Toledo from El Greco, the greek. I think toighty is spelt toity, but it won't improve the god-shack. Sounds like a great visit. I'll have to make the climb.
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