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From Earth Chronicler to Planet Q

By Carl S ~

Hello, it's Diznie, reporting from Jerusalem, planet Earth, year here 38 C.E. (Some call this year 38 AD. I think it means “attention deficit,” which seems to be common around here.) I hear interesting stories about a man who made quite an impression around here within the last years of his life. (No, he’s not the one who has disciples preaching and begging in his name, the famous Harvey Chrishna.)

The word is that this man was a rabbi, meaning that he was one of the few around here who could read and write. And boy did he write! He had so much to say, and spent most of his life leaving behind his thoughts for posterity. In fact, it's claimed that all the books in this world could not contain the tales of his life. So, where are those writings? The word is that his followers destroyed them. Because they had their own version of their idol, they changed his “image” for their own purposes, and made up what they thought he should have said and done. I've concluded he said and did no such things as they assert. It really is suspicious that, when I dig deep for answers, I'm told “Don't dare to ask questions.”

Here's the story of his last days hereabouts: He was out walking on the Sea of Galilee, and a giant fish came up and swallowed him. He stayed in the fish for a couple of days, until he figured out a way to get free. He set a fire inside, which caused the fish to sneeze him out into the raging water. Unfortunately, when he washed up on shore, he was dead. (He fared better than his twin brother, James, who in Jesus’ name was nailed up and died horribly. Another story.)

Well, some locals found his body and put it in a nearby cave. There, he went from being a wooden head to become a real live boy. The word is that from there he descended (through a trap door in the cave?) into a place called “hell,” where one of its residents asked him, “Just how long must I repeat I’m sorry, before I’m forgiven and out of here? Forever?“ The descender replied, “Looks that way. Bye.”

Word is, he hung around for one, several, or forty (a popular number around here) days. No more writing, clearing up the confusing messages, or caring about what happened to people without him, etc., etc. He put on his red shoes and, clicking them together, closed his eyes and kept repeating, “There’s no place like home,” until he floated away into the sky toward... home? On landing, he turned to the last remaining of five magic fish he had for pets and said, “Mojo, we're not in Judea anymore.”

Now, some of the ladies (feminists?) claim that anything a man can do, they can do. They said that his mother, later on, took the same route he exited by. They say that, wearing her one glass slipper, she made a pumpkin miraculously turn into a coach. When she entered the coach, she turned it into a balloon which carried her away. One of those ladies predicted, “I'll bet that thousands of years from now they still won't find that other glass slipper... or that ark either.”

Time to sign off for now; just about used up my time. But I must add a conversation I had with someone interesting. He's called a “theologian,” and I found him behind a curtain, pulling and turning knobs and making odd noises. Nevertheless, he appears to be sane and honest, and speaks his mind. I told him all I've related here, and then some. This is what he said: “Yes, I too have heard many testimonies regarding the saving man. And I'm especially fascinated by the testimony of The Last Tea Party, where the Hatter, March Hare, and Door mouse, are revealed to be One Person. As a theologian, I must admit that everything you've said makes as much sense as anything I and my associates have managed to come up with... May I borrow from you?”

(with thanks to dealdoctor and Twinkletoes.)