From Sermon on the Mount to Walmart greeter . . .Just when you thought the economy couldn’t suck any harder, it turns out Jesus Christ has resorted to shopping at Walmart. Silly me, I would’ve bet collection plate money the King of Kings had a Lowes card.
I’m done with these fifteen minute magic shows. He’s been living on reputation long enough, it’s high time the Boy went back to work. You have to believe that at some point God fronted His son some cash to open a business. What Jesus did with the money is anybody’s guess, but I suspect that Woodstock wasn’t quite as spontaneous an undertaking as everyone believes it to have been. Nor for that matter, is the Grateful Dead’s mass appeal. But that’s just a pious hunch . . .
I’m thinking that Dad wanted Son to open a wood shop. The Kid isn’t half bad when it comes to carpentry, and besides, who in his right mind is gonna give Him a bad review on Angie’s list? Other than Charlie Sheen. And not even Charlie would’ve done such a thing after Jesus broke out His holy Dime Bag. Oh come on . . . you know He’s a toker. That’s not called blasphemy, it’s called profiling.
I guess I can’t blame Jesus for staying out of the carpentry business, though. After the shit He went through, the last thing the Dude wants to do is pick up a hammer and nails. But what I can’t understand is why He’s giving his likeness away gratis when he could be getting paid handsomely by Nike. And why is he giving it to Walmart? Why not Apple? It would be a really cool dig at His Old Man, that cranky landlord. Or what about Olive Garden? You know . . . for the Next Supper.
Someone has got to let Jesus in on the fact that miracles don’t turn us on like they used to back in the day. Nowadays, miracles are reserved for sporting events, Pixar films and breast implants. Miracles don’t happen on department store receipts unless we’re getting the shit for free. And even then, the shit better be worth the Hallelujah.
Personally, I’d like to think a meeting with Jesus would be a bit more dramatic than having to take a magnifying glass to a store receipt. Or toast for that matter. Because that’s another secret meeting place for Jesus. Toast. His likeness on toast. Hey, if Jesus was a government operative, that would be impressive. But when you’re divinity in a toga and you’re coming strong with a resume that includes walking on water? Well then, showing up on a piece of toast is lamer than the next Adam Sandler film.
Sorry, but I’m not buying this Receipt Resurrection. Not when Jesus comes out looking like a cross between Marty Feldman, Donny Osmond and Henry David Thoreau. And I’m being nice on this count, because Darwin forgive me for saying this but that Walmart receipt actually makes him look like a monkey.