A challenge!

In a few weeks, I’ve got to deliver a sermon (kinda) that pertains to identity.  It may be bad form to tell a joke in a sermon, but the joke I’m thinking of really fits the topic.  Trouble is, it’s filthy and unfit for family audiences.

I’m sure you’ve heard the story about the  geneaologist who goes to Scotland to dig up some information on his ancestral home.  He makes it to the proper village and begins chatting up all the locals he can find.  Naturally, he reasons, the pub will be a grand place to begin his research.

After having spent several hours in the pub, he’s pretty much exhausted all of his oral history resources – all except the drunken guy in the dark corner.  With some hesitation, but with determination to finish his project, he orders a pint for himself and a pint for the other guy, then heads over to the corner to chat the guy up, find out what his story is.

As he sidles up to the drunken chap, he explains what he’s doing – searching for his roots in order to better understand his own identity. 

 ”Identity!” the man shouts.  “I’ll tell ye aboot identity!  Did ye cross over that stone bridge on your way into town?  Do ye know who built it?  I did!  Wi’ me own two hands!  But do they call me Cameron the bridge builder?  No!

And did ye see the kirk down the road?  Who designed that kirk?  I did!  But do they call me Cameron the architect?  No, no they don’t!  But you go and shag ONE sheep and you’re branded for life!”

Now you can see my conundrum.  My challenge is this: can you come up with an alternative ending that does NOT involve untoward acts like bestiality, but that still packs the punch?  This is your mission, should you choose to accept it.

I’m Glib

I guess the Scientologists yanked this from YouTube, but here’s a link to somebody else who managed to keep the video up and running.

In case you don’t want to sit through the incessant looping of the background music (a hypnotic riff on the Mission Impossible theme, apparently), here’s a transcript.

And in case you don’t feel like reading the transcript, here’s a paraphrase: “It’s like, you know, wow, man! I mean, you know [insert maniacal laughter here], you know?”

And in case you feel like chucking it all, give a listen to this Zappa song, “A Token of My Extreme.”  It contains several references to “L. Ron Hoover” of the “First Church of Appliantology.”  (This is not approved for young or sensitive audiences.)

Rob Bell, Sexual Intellectual

Yeah, I bought it. Today. Between dogs barking to get outside then immediately barking to come back in, and telephones ringing, and potty breaks, and the need to finish Genesis from chapter 31 onward for a church group meeting tomorrow, I haven’t gotten very far into it. In fact, I’ve only finished the first two chapters.

Having said all that, let me say this: Rob Bell is the Sexual Intellectual.

So far, Sex God isn’t really about sex. Not in the way one normally thinks of it. Bell has barely (ahem) mentioned genitals, down there, pee-pee parts, wee-wees and hoo-haas. He is, as I had gathered from the review I mentioned yesterday, talking about sexuality in terms of identity, humanity (human-ness), connectedness and unity.

Crap. Gotta run. I’ll update this later.

[Update on 1 Dec 07: No update for a while to come. I've been distracted by other shiny objects, and have forgotten much of what I had hoped to say about Bell's book. It wouldn't be fair to post from memory only, though what I'd write would certainly be flattering. Sex God left me with a good impression. But I'll just start a new topic when I get back around to re-reading it.]

[Update on 8 Dec 07:  There's a guy I know at church, who faces personal struggles with sex and parameters.  I say this, not as a cut-down, but rather just as a fact.  He's a good guy with an off-kilter perspective.  He's not a perv or anything like that, but I thought he could benefit from reading this book.  I've loaned it to him, thereby effectively eliminating any possibility of my writing a review in the  future.  Ah, just as well.  I've got a lot of other crap to do, anyway.]