Opiate for the masses. I bought a copy of the “holy” bible at the thrift shop near my Mom’s house. I also bought the Qur’an. I didn’t read either, but I didn’t need to. Follow me outside, I need a smoke. Do you have a light? So, like Jesus was this stepson of a carpenter. A real blue collar guy who was probably making Jesus feel like shit all the time. That’s what my stepfather does. He’s a fucking plumber. So this Joseph guy was probably like, Jesus Christ, you’re 21, get out of my house, fag. That’s what my stepdad said to me, anyway. So Jesus moves to the city and sees all of these stupid ass phonies and their fucking religion, right? And–hey, man! Hold on, sorry. Yeah I heard your demos, that’s some cool shit. Oh, okay, I’ll see you later. Sorry, that guy is in an shartgaze band with an ex-roommate of mine. Anyway, Jesus moves to the city and sees all of these stupid ass phonies and their fucking religion, and is like, these people are phillistines. And they’re probably listening to shitty music and liking stupid art and boring plays. And Jesus is just like, “Dude, I need to shake this scene up. I am going to do the most outrageous fucking performance art that the world has ever fucking seen.” SHIT WHERE’S IS MY FUCKING CELL PHONE—Wait. Okay. So, he meets up with a bunch of like minded artists, who totally fucking look up to him, because he’s cool and has this awesome beard and always wears white and stuff. He’s just a cool guy, like me. And I have disciples, too. And they’re like, “Whatever you want to do, we’re in.” So, he gets everybody together and says, “I am going to pretend to be the son of God.” And everybody is blown away. Like! Nobody! Ever! Tried that! Until then!—Oh, hey what’s up? Cool. Oh, he’s just some fucking guy. Okay. Will you be back at SVA? She didn’t hear me… Then Jesus gets some of his people to make believe he’s doing miracles, and he gets some writer friends to make shit up, and the morons that see this shit believe him instantly. So, he keeps topping himself and he gets tired of it. It’s in a creative rut and he wants to do something that people will remember him for. Kind of like that mural I painted in Bushwick. So, he has this dinner and everybody meets up and drinks wine and shit. And he’s like, “Judas, you are going to betray me, and turn me over to the guards, and they will crucify me. Then, I will come BACK TO LIFE.” Everybody is like, “Shit, how is he going to pull this off?” And they hire a bunch of actors from like some avant theatre project to play palace guards to fake this ultraviolent death scene and then he comes back to life a few days later and then spends the rest of his life writing this book. Outsider art at it’s finest. He actually kind of reminds me of Sun Ra…

Opiate for the masses. I bought a copy of the “holy” bible at the thrift shop near my Mom’s house. I also bought the Qur’an. I didn’t read either, but I didn’t need to.

Follow me outside, I need a smoke. Do you have a light?

So, like Jesus was this stepson of a carpenter. A real blue collar guy who was probably making Jesus feel like shit all the time. That’s what my stepfather does. He’s a fucking plumber. So this Joseph guy was probably like, Jesus Christ, you’re 21, get out of my house, fag. That’s what my stepdad said to me, anyway.

So Jesus moves to the city and sees all of these stupid ass phonies and their fucking religion, right? And–hey, man! Hold on, sorry.

Yeah I heard your demos, that’s some cool shit.

Oh, okay, I’ll see you later. Sorry, that guy is in an shartgaze band with an ex-roommate of mine.

Anyway, Jesus moves to the city and sees all of these stupid ass phonies and their fucking religion, and is like, these people are phillistines. And they’re probably listening to shitty music and liking stupid art and boring plays. And Jesus is just like, “Dude, I need to shake this scene up. I am going to do the most outrageous fucking performance art that the world has ever fucking seen.”

SHIT WHERE’S IS MY FUCKING CELL PHONE—Wait. Okay.

So, he meets up with a bunch of like minded artists, who totally fucking look up to him, because he’s cool and has this awesome beard and always wears white and stuff. He’s just a cool guy, like me. And I have disciples, too.

And they’re like, “Whatever you want to do, we’re in.” So, he gets everybody together and says, “I am going to pretend to be the son of God.” And everybody is blown away. Like! Nobody! Ever! Tried that! Until then!—Oh, hey what’s up?

Cool.

Oh, he’s just some fucking guy.

Okay.

Will you be back at SVA? She didn’t hear me…

Then Jesus gets some of his people to make believe he’s doing miracles, and he gets some writer friends to make shit up, and the morons that see this shit believe him instantly. So, he keeps topping himself and he gets tired of it. It’s in a creative rut and he wants to do something that people will remember him for. Kind of like that mural I painted in Bushwick.

So, he has this dinner and everybody meets up and drinks wine and shit. And he’s like, “Judas, you are going to betray me, and turn me over to the guards, and they will crucify me. Then, I will come BACK TO LIFE.”

Everybody is like, “Shit, how is he going to pull this off?” And they hire a bunch of actors from like some avant theatre project to play palace guards to fake this ultraviolent death scene and then he comes back to life a few days later and then spends the rest of his life writing this book. Outsider art at it’s finest. He actually kind of reminds me of Sun Ra…