Monday, December 15, 2003
Saturday Night Freakup
Isral and i are co-writing today's post. So there.
My friends, here follows the tale of the origins of THE Disco
Jesus™.
So this one time in the days of yore, this guy was looking for a
nickel. His head down, he was all but watching where he was going, and he
stubbed his toe upon the Electric Disco Fencepost! Fency was in a good
mood that day, so in his vast electricity and discocity, he granted the
chap wishes three.
He thought for a long while.
"For my first wish," began Chap, "I want a nickel. That's what I was
looking for in the first place."
Three bright flashes of pyrotechnics and one feverish dance number later, Chap looked down and saw Thomas Jefferson in a leisure suit and a discotheque called Monticello in the palm of his hand. While this wasn't quite the nickel he had imagined, and he wasn't sure it would even pass as a video game token, it was still a free nickel, and, hey, who was he to complain?
"Well, then. About this second wish. I would like you to smite mine
enemy Bloke with unspekable illness and plague for the countless ways
he has wronged me, including but not limited to last Tuesday when I was
kicking a tin can down the sidewalk and he picked it up and recycled
it. Smite him good, I say!"
In the distance, a pulsing dance beat began. Bloke strutted past in
all his glitz and glam, bedecked with polyester from head to toe. It
became unsettlingly clear that he had been smitten with Saturday Night
Fever. Continuing his prance down the sidewalk, jabbing his index
finger skyward and back by turns, he was eventually arrested for poking
an innocent bystander in the face repeatedly.
A sudden look of realization came over Chap's face. He recognized that,
much to his musical disgust and horror, his every wish had been turned
into an 80's dance disaster. He then decided to use his last wish
strategically, to foil the Electric Disco Fencepost.
"I have been selfish," he said. "I have forgotten about the needs of
others. In these days of hard rock hatred, heavy metal despair, and
hip-hop animosity, what this world really needs is an electric disco
saviour."
The room went dark, save for one spinning disco ball. And hanging from
that disco ball, framed in splendor and moving to the beat, was THE
Disco Jesus™. A holographic picture in a gilded frame, illuminated by a heavenly 15-watt glow from above, THE Disco Jesus boogied in the garden of Gethsemane, alternately dropping to his knees and lifting his hands to the sky, depending on your angle of viewing.
Chap was so overcome by joy and the urge to watch Miami Vice that he dropped to his knees and wept.
Epilogue
Some days later, when Chap was old and grey, he decided that he should
share the splendor of his holographic heavenly father with the rest of
the world. After much thought and calculation, carefully weighed against
the senility that had crept into his mind since the days of yore, he
decided that the best way to share THE Disco Jesus™ was to hold
a sale of garage-like proportions in which the first soul to fully
appreciate the holographic, gold-framed, lit-up glory of his prize
could buy it for the reasonable price of $1.50. Lucky for us, the
co-authors of this very post were on the scene in minutes, Devious,
'Riah, Dan Webber, and possibly Mr. Robert Fontecchio at thier sides.
They immediately saw the treasure that is THE Disco Jesus™,
recognized it for the prize it truly is, and snatched it from the
Gollum-like clutches of Chap.
THE Disco Jesus™ has since faded in and out of legend and lore, but
many, including the authors of this post, believe that he's still out
there, dancing his two framed dance of grace and mercy (even if it is
in Devious' basement.)
Isral and i are co-writing today's post. So there.
My friends, here follows the tale of the origins of THE Disco
Jesus™.
So this one time in the days of yore, this guy was looking for a
nickel. His head down, he was all but watching where he was going, and he
stubbed his toe upon the Electric Disco Fencepost! Fency was in a good
mood that day, so in his vast electricity and discocity, he granted the
chap wishes three.
He thought for a long while.
"For my first wish," began Chap, "I want a nickel. That's what I was
looking for in the first place."
Three bright flashes of pyrotechnics and one feverish dance number later, Chap looked down and saw Thomas Jefferson in a leisure suit and a discotheque called Monticello in the palm of his hand. While this wasn't quite the nickel he had imagined, and he wasn't sure it would even pass as a video game token, it was still a free nickel, and, hey, who was he to complain?
"Well, then. About this second wish. I would like you to smite mine
enemy Bloke with unspekable illness and plague for the countless ways
he has wronged me, including but not limited to last Tuesday when I was
kicking a tin can down the sidewalk and he picked it up and recycled
it. Smite him good, I say!"
In the distance, a pulsing dance beat began. Bloke strutted past in
all his glitz and glam, bedecked with polyester from head to toe. It
became unsettlingly clear that he had been smitten with Saturday Night
Fever. Continuing his prance down the sidewalk, jabbing his index
finger skyward and back by turns, he was eventually arrested for poking
an innocent bystander in the face repeatedly.
A sudden look of realization came over Chap's face. He recognized that,
much to his musical disgust and horror, his every wish had been turned
into an 80's dance disaster. He then decided to use his last wish
strategically, to foil the Electric Disco Fencepost.
"I have been selfish," he said. "I have forgotten about the needs of
others. In these days of hard rock hatred, heavy metal despair, and
hip-hop animosity, what this world really needs is an electric disco
saviour."
The room went dark, save for one spinning disco ball. And hanging from
that disco ball, framed in splendor and moving to the beat, was THE
Disco Jesus™. A holographic picture in a gilded frame, illuminated by a heavenly 15-watt glow from above, THE Disco Jesus boogied in the garden of Gethsemane, alternately dropping to his knees and lifting his hands to the sky, depending on your angle of viewing.
Chap was so overcome by joy and the urge to watch Miami Vice that he dropped to his knees and wept.
Epilogue
Some days later, when Chap was old and grey, he decided that he should
share the splendor of his holographic heavenly father with the rest of
the world. After much thought and calculation, carefully weighed against
the senility that had crept into his mind since the days of yore, he
decided that the best way to share THE Disco Jesus™ was to hold
a sale of garage-like proportions in which the first soul to fully
appreciate the holographic, gold-framed, lit-up glory of his prize
could buy it for the reasonable price of $1.50. Lucky for us, the
co-authors of this very post were on the scene in minutes, Devious,
'Riah, Dan Webber, and possibly Mr. Robert Fontecchio at thier sides.
They immediately saw the treasure that is THE Disco Jesus™,
recognized it for the prize it truly is, and snatched it from the
Gollum-like clutches of Chap.
THE Disco Jesus™ has since faded in and out of legend and lore, but
many, including the authors of this post, believe that he's still out
there, dancing his two framed dance of grace and mercy (even if it is
in Devious' basement.)
