WELCOME TO THE BLOG OF POPE JOHN THE TALL, LEADER OF THE ALL JOHN ALL THE TIME WORLD CHURCH


******PLEASE NOTE******

(Notice I said please.)

To those of you who are new to "the Pope" and the "AJATTWC", the following various posts are the official communications of yours truly, Pope John The Tall, or as I'm known in many circles, PJTT.

I aspired to the position of Pope of the AJATTWC several years ago, after the Roman Catholics elected Joseph Ratzinger, a German Cardinal, as their Pope; I figured if he could do it, so could I.

Despite what would seem to be a "religious" theme, I try not to play favorites: I'm satirical/irreverent about everything, in an attempt to give my readers a few yucks; that is the goal. If I haven't made you laugh, well, I tried, and I hope I'm given an "A" for the effort. (Or at least a really solid "C".)

I further hope that my faithful readers (all several of them) and any of you who wander in from the cold of the Internet, will derive much solace and spiritual awakening from my timeless prose, and, as I so often refer to it, the "soothing balm of Johnism"; if you don't, how sad for you, because I'm a pretty funny guy. (My daughter tells me, regularly, that I'm "silly"; I suspect that she's right.)

Please note that everything on my blog is meant to be fun, and in no way insulting to anyone, unless of course you're a politician, then you can assume I intended to insult you. (Hey, it goes with the job, guys; if you can't take the heat, then the harder they fall.)

Never mind.

Anyway, welcome and thanks for stopping by; please feel free to peruse to your heart's content (there is a large archive of my past posts, going back several hundred years, in the right-hand column), and please be sure to make a large donation at the door as you leave. (It's tax-deductible.)

Speaking of leaving, as I make my exit, and probably none too soon, here's something from the Book of Excretions, Apollo 13: Dodgers 6...

"Blessed are the lazy, for although they don't accomplish much, they're well rested."

Enjoy. (Or don't, it's still a free country. It is still a free country, isn't it? They haven't changed that as far as I know, have they?)





Wednesday, February 23, 2011

A Jackass In Any Galaxy

For those of you who follow the daily rantings, err, teachings of Pope John The Tall (that would be me) of the All John All The Time World Church, you'll recall that yesterday, the Harley Dog and I (Harley being the official canine of the Pope Dude), headed off in my atomic powered space ship, the Royal Unionship Kidding, or RU Kidding for short, for the planet Xanthous, to attend a conference of galactic religious and spiritual leaders, to discuss this and that weighty issue and to "generally hobnob with my brother wizards" (thank you, L. Frank Baum; ...'lions and tigers and bears, oh shit...").

Because time displacement is an occasional unintended result of traveling at speeds in excess of the Speed of Aroma (such speeds being well within the capability of the Kidding), along with occasional corporeal displacement as well, due to non-nominal fluxes in the time/space continuum, even though in the "old" time of yesterday, we were just leaving, we are already back in my headquarters here in the bucolic, mostly sunny with a chance of rain San Fernando Valley "today" (in "new" time), even though Harley and I spent several days in transit to Xanthous, plus several days attending the aforesaid conference, during which time we also availed ourselves of a good deal of the Xanthousian's hospitality, (more on that in a moment) and then spent several days in return transit.

Did you get all that? Me either, but it sounded good, didn't it?

The conference was a grand success, and was well attended by such luminaries in the fields of the humanities, sociology, metaphysics, religious thinking and gerbil golf as Jder Con Huevos, Procurator of Murrhine, from the planet Zatox, Mastaba Abatsam, the Recotium from the Outer Nebulae of the Quaternion Halcyon, Welvel Yomama the Large, Ruler of All Duisters of the planet Huttwothreefour, and his brother Harold the Kaoliang, Kriiglfyt III of the planet Rescorcin, Emperor of Shamdar and many others. Yes, it was a gathering of great thinkers and moralists, which of course was the reason your Pope was asked to be there, if I may be so immodest as to say. (I also brought the chips and dip, so they were obligated to invite me.)

The Xanthousians are excellent hosts, and we enjoyed their cuisine (baked Krillion ebert in thrane sauce is one of their planetary specialties), their numerous recreational facilities, including playing several rounds of gerbil golf, which is a MUCH more interesting game in the 1/3 "gee" gravity field of Xanthous (can you whack one of those little suckers in a gravitational pull of less than a third of Earth's? I should say) and, of course, we visited their renowned nude-only, white sand beaches along the coasts of both the Green Boetian Ocean and the Quiba Sea, where any number of beautiful, three-breasted Xanthousian woman were in attendance, bathing luxuriously (and really nakedly) in the light of both the major and minor Zanthousian suns. And the nightlife was awesome; we visited a number of their nightclubs and after-hours spots that featured music and dancing from all over the Galaxy, with musicians from such far-flung places as Murrhine and Handelsmessiah, as well as dancers and comedians from such planets as Anopheles (have you heard the one about the two Kaolings that get lost on Zatox, and one of them leaves their ship to explore the area and gets bitten on the testicles by a banth, so his partner, the other Kaoling, calls frantically on the ship's radio to their Fleet Headquarters and finally gets through and explains what happened to the first Kaoling to the Fleet Doctor, who tells him he has to suck the banth venom out of the wound, or else his partner will die, so the Kaoling who made the call to the doctor runs back to his stricken fellow crew member and the banth-bit guy screams, "What did the doctor say?!?" and the other Kaoling screams back, "He says you're gonna' die, dumbshit!!!") and many others.

One of the topics discussed at great length at the conference was the insidious encroachment of Satan (yes, he's there even on other planets, that asshole) into our cultures and ways that we, as the moral and spiritual leaders of our various planets and congregations, might combat this evil. The subject was raised by your Pope Guy, when I recounted to my fellow attendees the story of how one of our greatest musical talents here on Earth, Billy Ray Cyrus, father of Miley, had been forced to face this dreaded menace in his own family. I told them of how BRC had shared with one of our planetary news "organs", GQ magazine, that not only were the Studios of Disney at fault for the collapse of his family unit, but that Satan, SATAN, had crept in as well to bring further moral and spiritual degradation to his loved ones.

To an alien being, all of my brother religious and spiritual big guys expressed dismay at this story, and each tsked, tsked and shook their, in some cases multiple, heads at the ignominy of it all, until the representative from the planet Caladium, Blutark, the Kaldane of Hoosier, rose from his seat and remarked, "Brothers in spirit, while I would in no way want to denigrate the mischief and pure evil that Satan is capable of, I have read many of the journals and news "organs" of Planet Earth, and after considering what I have read, it occurs to me that this Billy Ray Cyrus, father of Miley, is something of, to use the Earthian expression, a moron, and one wonders how much weight one should grant his tale? He seems unable to acknowledge his own failures in accepting any responsibility and accountability for the demise of his family, and, to be quite frank, would appear mostly upset about losing his meal-ticket when his equally inane daughter went out on her own, leaving his family adrift with no visible means of financial support. If it please this exalted conference."

Now when a "person" with the moral reputation and gravitas of Blutark, the Kaldane of Hoosier from the planet Caladium says you're a "moron", much weight must be attributed to his remarks, and his conclusions. And far be it from me to dispute what he said.

Gee, Billy Ray, not only are you a complete jackass on Earth, but you're an intergalactic one as well. That's impressive.

Love and weightlessness,

PJTT

copyright 2011 Krissongs, Inc.

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