Ass Carrot

There’s only one question that means anything on the spiritual path:

When the fuck are you going to give up?

Listen you fuckers, you screwheads, here is a man — whoops wrong script, sorry — listen you fuckers, you screwheads, there IS nothing positive about the spiritual path, at all.

The spiritual path is nothing except finding the balls to put your dick on Jahweh’s chopping altar and stay vewwy vewwy quiet while Isaac’s ceremonial scissors move in for the kill. A blast, huh? Where do I sign up for that - right?

And you are dumb enough to go for that? And you feel superior coz you are dumb enough to go for that?

Your “natural” state is an offense to the Deity. It doesn’t matter how sincere and heartfelt your prayers, or how obsequious your offerings: as long as that offending bit of skin is hanging off your wanger, you are going to get a REJECT stamp on your forehead, Beast-boy, and be banished into the Pit of Fire for all Eternity with nothing but everlasting memories of your failed life of piety. 

OH - right?

God doesn’t dig ego, dude. He wants your essential being to be uncovered, unshrouded, unhooded, so he can get a good look in your squinty little eye (and your eye damn well better be single!) and see just what you are made of. Unless you are made of the same Holy Spirit jism stuff as the One Supreme Sacred Phallus (the standing proud and erect Eye Am That Eye Am), then its prophylactic purgatory for you, my son, and it doesn’t make a fried scrotum hair in Hell’s difference what spiritual porn you are pulling yourself off to to get right with “The Lawd.”

Being a spiritual snob is what spirituality is all about. Every ass-wipe and menstrual rag in the world thinks s/he’s the chosen one or belongs to the chosen few or at least has a shot at joining the 7-Mile High Club. But why not face it: Your life is a series of frustrations and irritations and disappointments which you dress up in the tinsel and tissue paper of spiritual belief so the neighbors won’t guess that you are EXACTLY THE SAME LOST & LONELY SAD-SACK SHIT-EATER AS THEY ARE.

You rack up your paltry little desires and then one by one go through them, like a pig through truffles.

AM I RIGHT???

So you gave up heroin and cigarettes, TV shows and candy bars, and nightly girl-on-girl jack-off fests. You replaced all that nasty soul-sucking business with two hour meditathons, organic superfood, and Tantra weekends in Tibet. You are kissing Jesus’ ass all day long and waiting patiently, humbly, and mindfully, to get that promotion you just KNOW is coming your way. Right?

IT’S ALL CARROTS YOU DIMWIT!! All any of that stuff does is keep Eeyore plodding round in circles, while the blinkers of belief fool him into thinking he is going somewhere.

Life is a goddamn tragedy because you don’t have the guts to admit that it’s a cheesy, low-budget, brain-dead comedy, full of lame fart jokes and not enough boob shots, and you are the butt and God is laughing his ASS off at you!

Here’s some spiritual advice for you: take the juiciest and fattest carrot you can find, and SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS. Then go chase it!

Let your sad little go-nowhere circles get smaller, and you might at least save some energy. And if you ever manage to get your lips around the carrot, Hallelujah: you will finally know exactly where your head is at!