five
December 4th, 2019
Mo got exactly the same treatment 10 years ago. They never learn.
Congratulations to Eoin from Dublin on winning this month’s raffle – a signed copy of the soon-to-be-published Volume 8 of Jesus & Mo.
Latest book…
Random oldie…
August 4, 2021-
- NICE T-SHIRT (Thank you for not provoking my uncontrollable lust). Currently unavailable.
Might wanna turn off the spellchecker, author!
Christians are so cement-headed and blind. Special Pleading, anyone?
Ha ha! Thanks, Spellchecker. Fixed it.
“Christians are so cement-headed and blind”
Easy target, isn’t it? Just replace “christians” with “mozlims” and you get MORE cement-headed and blindness AND VIOLENCE….
Oh and BTW: I am a convinced atheist..!!!
The correct name for most of us is Anti-theist….
We occasionally get a comment like Herman’s here, but this one’s particularly amusing as today’s comic is basically a rerun of this 10 year old one.
It is funny how quickly we forget the centuries, and still ongoing, violence waged by christians. Pretty much any cement headed statement you can come up with from muslims, will have also been used at some point by christians, or jews or hindus, or any other organised religion, they are all the same when it comes to nastiness.
If one man can see for 10 miles from the top of the tower, for how far can 10 men see? 10 miles, same as before. You would believe the priest telling you what was out there because you you couldn’t see any further than he. But that all happened before the invention of the telescope. Now, who do you believe, the 10 men who all agree about what’s out there, but who can only see for 10 miles, or the one guy with the telescope who can see for 100 miles?
But Jesus and Satan could stand on a mountain and see all the nations of the world! Without a telescope! I’m still trying to find out which mountain that was. Even Hillary didn’t claim to have seen all the nations of the world.
M27Holts:
I would consider myself to be antifaith, or maybe faithfree.
I leave open the remote possibility that I might someday hear a good argument for God, but I will always reject the idea that believing things on faith is ever good.
I prefer to call this the ‘Eat excrement – a zillion, zillion flies cannot be wrong’ argument.
Jim, If you give em an inch and they will take a yard…All the gods created by homo sapiens are all figments of the imagination. If you decide to accept the multiverse hypothesis then there will be an infinity of universes where an infinite number of gods decide the fate of infinite sentient beings…However, I think anti-theist will suffice for me…as the famous hitch-slap goes “That which can be asserted without evidence can be rejected without evidence”…
Regardless of the religion you adhere to, the majority of the rest of the world disagrees with you! As for myself, I’m down with that too. But then, I’m an atheist.
What’s extra scary, is that between the 2009 cartoon and this one there are another 1.5 billion people in the world.
Troubleshooter:
Regardless of the religion you adhere to, the majority of the rest of the world disagrees with you!
I beg to disagree!
The majority of the world knows for sure, all gods of all other religions are false gods. That is especially true for the momotheistic religions.
Well, I agree 99.9975 % with them: of all ~ 40.000 known gods, not 39.999 are false, but exactly ALL OF THEM.
I was going thru the archives and ran across the Joe Melloe episodes which eventually got him banned. summat later I dreamed up this cock and bull story…
an antitheist and an antinatalist walk into bar
and order two stouts with knobcheese and marmite finger biscuits.
when they are done the antitheist says thank god there’s still some of that marmite gobshite left on me fingers to lubricate me bum. they say it is a an appropriate hemorrhoid salve. the antinatalist says I was right about ya, mate. if you lived here you’d be home by now. and keep your fingers crossed and out of the chips.
and them born again guys just laughed their asses off.
Philip Larkin’s This Be The Verse: “Man hands on misery to man./It deepens like a coastal shelf./Get out as early as you can,/And don’t have any kids yourself.”
bottom line: we’re stuck with them dimwits, dammit.
Many, many years ago [probably 1987, maybe 1897, unlikely to be 9871 ‘cos that’s one of the few years of relatively mild weather after the 32nd Century], I almost found out what it felt like to be a seagull [yes, I do know but I’ve seen the book] soaring effortlessly into the face of a gale-force wind. Tiny person, very light [that has not endured] wearing a thick, warm anoraky thing being blown by a powerful wind.
It was fun. Perhaps dangerous, too, but definitely exhilarating. I never made it more than a few inches from the Earth’s surface and I wasn’t held aloft for more than a second or so at a time but it was a fine example of how even dense objects could be shoved around by physics.
Around about the same time, give or take a few millennia [in the Grand Scheme Of Things a gigayear or so isn’t so very much and precise points get lost in the foggy corridors of Eternity], I stood atop the highest building in my little home town. It was not by any means a scraper of the skies but it possessed a height sufficient to create a strange effect. I was on top of, indeed I was the highest point on the surface of the planet.
Everything from the street below to Everest, Kilimanjaro, the Marianas Trenches and the Empire State Building was below me. Everything was, to me, downwards.
Sure, a lot of stuff was further from the Core than I was, some of it by considerable magnitudes but I was quite literally on the very top of my world.
Even the local hills peaked slightly below my horizontal eye-line due to the nature of the Earth’s curvature.
I could see a long way but I know that had I had the one, true historical Jesus Carpenter by my side I could have kneed him in the nuts, punched his lights out, stood upon his slightly squishy bum and seen a little further.
Yes, even from my mighty vantage point at the acme of the globe, I could have seen further with Jesus’s help.
Or, for that matter, Satan’s or Santa’s. That last most of all, perhaps, due to his legendary Coke-powered prominent girth.
So, at this time of happy, merry celebration of the young lad’s birth, we should all remember that no matter how high we are, standing on a prone Jesus can lift us up a little more. Jesus can always help us.
Or, should he have been entirely mythical, we could always replace him with a few of his autobiographys for a similar effect; essentially still getting help from “him”.
Christmas, a time to remember that together we can be taller.
Hogswatch, a season for viewing the wider world from upon a draining pile of our bleeding enemies.
Merry Fimbulvetrfest, everyone and may the Monster Raving Loony Party win at Ragnarök.
Hugs and kisses.
” … after the 32nd Century … but before the 151st, when the planet becomes eerily calm due to the 1250K atmosphere being isothermal for the remaining megayears of Sol’s temperate youth.
“… at Ragnarök …” which, of course, does show that the Mayans were nearly right, just seven years late. Early. Inaccurate. Whichever. It’s not a bad guess over so many millennia.
“… no matter how high we are …”, in the “how far from the hot, melty Core” sense, or maybe in the “… bugger, when did I last shower ‘cos that’s an awesome Highest Score” sense, not in any other. Though this is the Season to be happy with the endorphins of joyous communal love and random huggery.
Huggery with an aitch, like “h”.
Merry Storm Season and may we be grateful for the random cosmos that randomly popped into existence to give us Suns and cats and many strange Christmas beverages and, through weird and inexplicable contortions of Physics living consciousnesses to appreciate all of its gifts.
And, of course, one another.