Odd to think I spent “Good Wednesday” evening (“Good Friday” being a revisionist history hoax perpetrated by Pope Gregory in the Eighth Century because he apparently needed to create the first three-day-weekend; simultaneously erasing Saturday as the Holy Sabbath along with having no idea the Jewish day begins at sunset — not to mention the fact he magically made “three days and three nights” out of only Friday through Sunday to fit his particular “Vatican math”) sorting through and boxing-up spent brass into the remaining commercial cartridge boxes I had on hand whilst watching The Passion of the Christ on DVD.
I still can’t figure out why the world changed the name of the single most important figure in human history to suit their own language sensibilities, though.
Seriously, if anyone’s going to accept anybody as The Messiah, shouldn’t they extend a modicum of common courtesy and think twice about renaming Him? I mean, really, it’d make just as much sense to call Him something like Jeff or Max or Willem or Jim as it does Jesus, right?
Oh, well… At least Mel got something right. No living tree and it’s the wrong hill, but at least he got His name right.
Amen and Stuff