Episode 34 – Partial Transcript
by Heath Enwright and Lucinda & Noah Lugeons
Note: Transcript contains portions that were edited from the final episode due to time constraints
Warning: This podcast contains explicit language in pretty much every sentence except this one.
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And now, the Scathing Atheist.
It’s October 10th,
and there’s a Broadway Bomb in Manhattan on Saturday that has nothing to do with Islam.
I’m Noah Lugeons
I’m Heath Enwright
And from ignorantly Christopher Columbus friendly New York, New York
This is the Scathing Atheist
In this week’s episode…
We’ll learn that people who really love America work to overthrow it,
We examine a new humane, cage-free breed of rape joke.
And we’ll finger bang for Jesus
But first, the soothing tones of Noah Lugeons apologizing for being right. Let’s go to the diatribe.
There are plenty of bullshit explanations for it, but the primary reason religion persists is because people would rather not think about dying. Religion doesn’t really solve the problem, but it has proven to be a great way to delay the problem.
I’ve gone on record before in saying that only the slimmest minority of religious people believe in an afterlife. Anybody who has ever exhibited self-preservation or mourned a loved one is full of shit if they tell you they honestly believe in heaven everlasting. Or they think they and all their loved ones are evil and hellbound.
My favorite analogy is a soldier that took a fatal wound and he’s lying on the battlefield. Religion comes up and hands him two band-aids and says “Here, put these over your eyes so you don’t see the wound. It’ll go numb eventually. Sure, it’ll still hurt if you move it and you’ll still die from it, but it’s better this way.”
And from what I’ve seen, when people cut their ties to religion, the rope marked “afterlife” is the last one to go and the hardest one to cut. I know plenty of atheists that still try to cling to any suspect pseudo-science that claims to provide evidence for a soul.
I also know plenty of lenient atheists that are willing to excuse religion from any wrongdoing based solely on this dubious assumption: Religion helps people deal with loss. Sure, you and I can handle confronting our mortality and the mortality of the people around us, but those dumbasses? They need a fairy tale to cling to. They need their security blanket and who are we to deny them their soul-snuggie?
Setting aside for a second that obviously their fairy tale doesn’t work, there are still some serious problems that arise when you try to spackle over the inevitable. One way or the other, the wound is still bleeding and eventually you’re going to have to come to grips with it. And who’s better suited for the task? The person who spent their lives boldly facing their fragility or the person who spent the last few decades pretending they thought they got to go to the super-happy-world dimension?
I was listening to the Atheist Experience the other day, and for the eleven people that somehow heard of our show without hearing about theirs first, it’s a live, public access call-in show where they take calls from atheists and believers alike. And even though 80% of their callers annoy the shit out of me, I still enjoy the show enough to listen to it every Monday morning.
Anyway, so a woman calls in and she’s clearly wavering in her faith. She’s clearly made the mistake of critically examining her religious beliefs and they’re fast a-crumblin’. But she’s holding out. She’s having trouble letting go and it’s because she doesn’t want to take the band-aids off her eyes.
And it’s not a self-serving thing… or, at least not a directly self serving thing. She seemed almost embarrassed to admit that it wasn’t her own death she was fearing. It was her cats. She was a cat person. She’d lost a lot of cats over her life and she wanted above all things to know that someday she would be reunited with them.
I’m a cat person. And as silly as this might seem to some, I understood one hundred percent. I was lucky enough to be raised without a strong religious influence, so I came to grips with the “I’m gonna outlive my pets” thing a long time ago, but I can imagine how hard it would be to abandon such a pleasant fiction if you’d been using it to delay confronting the emotions.
So when I heard this, because I’m me, I got pissed. That’s pretty much always my reaction when it comes to religion… you might have noticed.
See, here’s the cruel, if unintentional, consequence of believing in Heaven. It’s not there. And unless you’ve got some kind of serious mental dysfunction you eventually realize that it’s not there. You eventually realize that you’ve been lied to the whole time and somehow you feel robbed of something you never even had to begin with.
What’s worse is that a lot of people only discover the net was an illusion when they jump into it. It’s only when they have to face their own mortality or the mortality of someone they love that they realize the whole thing was a house of cards. They’re counting on god to make sense of it all; they’re counting on heaven to make the loss easier to bear; they’re counting on religion to finally pay them back for all those tithes.
But there was never anything there. And in the end they eventually have to deal with their loss the same way we secularists deal with it. But we secularists get a bonus. A realistic outlook on life and death leaves the finality in the forefront of your mind rather than trying to hide in the basement. Every time I think about the people I love I temper it with their transience and it reminds me to forgive, to indulge, to embrace. And it reminds me to pet my cats whenever the hell they tell me to because someday I won’t be able to anymore.
They said that religion would make it easier, but it doesn’t. It’s in times like those that religion is at it’s weakest. And mourning a loved one is hard enough if you don’t have to mourn your god alongside them.
Re- joining me for headlines tonight is rejoiner Heath Enwright. Heath, do you have a rejoinder?
No. Can’t you just go straight to an improvised rhyming headline?
In our lead story tonight, Hobby Lobby lobs a snobby, snow job-by, daub of copy in a sloppy attempt to seem less lynch mob-by. The half-assed apology came after New Jersey blogger Ken Berwitz complained to an employee that he couldn’t find any Hanukkah decorations only to be told that the jews should have thought about that before they killed Jesus.
I don’t agree with anyone involved, about anything. I don’t like Christianity, I don’t like Judaism, and I don’t like holiday decorations of any kind. That being said, why would a Jewish person be angry that a “bigoted” Christian store chain has stupid business practices?!? Plus if you’re Jewish, you can’t transact on Saturday, it’s closed on Sunday, and you’re conspiring against Palestine all week, so when are you going there anyway?
The corporation, which until now seemed to be operating under the “alienate-every-heathen-we-can” marketing strategy, surprised onlookers by taking any action whatsoever that failed to reinforce the “Christian-fuck-monkey” reputation they’ve worked so hard to earn.
I don’t think a business owned by religious fundamentalists should be allowed to use the word ‘hobby’. Wouldn’t it be great if religious people just made little figurines and dioramas, AND THAT’S IT?! Fly some model airplanes into the side of a building – that’s fine. Just know that the actual Boba Fett isn’t going to descend from heaven with angellic jet pack wings and save humanity from sin.
Hey, you can’t prove there’s no Boba Fett… and speaking of not being able to prove, Berwitz cites the irrefutable source of “some woman my wife knows”, who claims that upon asking where the Hanukkah merchandise was, the aforementioned friend of a friend was told (pseudo-quote) “We don’t cater to your people” (end quote), though I’m damn tempted to add “your droids will have to wait outside”.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. We suggest that all Jews proceed to the ‘lobby’ section of the store. Try out the ‘oxygen’ bar. But there’s nothing for you in the ‘hobby’ section. And yes those Golem droids will have to wait outside.”
In Hobby Lobby’s defense, a number of the company’s stores do carry a limited selection of Jewy stuff and have for years. Plus, how the hell were they supposed to know there were Jews in a city less than fifty miles from Manhattan?
Hobby Lobby reluctantly agrees to carry Jewish holiday stuff: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/10/04/hobby-lobby-jewish-holiday_n_4046481.html?utm_hp_ref=religion
In “pedophile scandal oversight bell curve” news, the Vatican grade has improved from a lazy F, to an equally lazy D minus by default, after an expert in the field admits his own evangelicals are even worse than Catholics. Regardless, the existence of an “expert in the field” and also the existence of “the field” are god’s fault.
You know that the Catholics are celebrating this publicly, but behind the scenes Pope Frannie Mae has everybody down to the Vatican lunch ladies raping kids overtime. They don’t like being number two in anything and they especially hate number two when they’re butt-raping kids.
The expert in question is named Boz Tchividjian– … The expert in question has a name, and his initials are BT. Mr. T gained his expertise as executive director of Godly Response to Abuse in the Christian Environment, or GRACE. They investigate sex abuse allegations, and are exactly the type of organization that should have a clever, playful acronym.
They considered going with Butt and Lip Intrusion Survivors Society, or BLISS and I hear they also rejected Bureau of Rampant Accusations of Clergy Encroaching on Young Or Underage Rectums, Sometimes Evoking Legal Fees; or BRACE-YOURSELF.
Mr T. says, “Protestants can be very arrogant when pointing to Catholics.” . . .
Apparently decades of being relatively less bad than their rival sect at handling pedophile scandals, was a big point of pride. Rapist Clergy Handling is their Army-Navy game. Even though both teams often enter the game winless, the season is a big success for the winner that ends up with a 1 – 11 record.
I hear that Pentecostals rape children in tongues.
The takeaway here, is that eating babies is way less egregious than raping altar boys. But when Richard Dawkins finally gets caught eating “tar baby tartare”, you won’t see atheists smuggling him out of England to avoid prosecution. Why is he eating dark meat? It sounded better.
Pedophile expert declares Protestants worse than Catholics: http://www.patheos.com/blogs/unreasonablefaith/2013/10/tchividjian-protestants-worse-than-catholics/
And moving on to “beep beep, mm- beep beep No” news, this week’s ridiculous example of Muslim misogyny comes to us from Saudi cleric and person whose name is clearly compensating for something, Sheikh Saleh bin Saad al-Lohaidan. In an interview with sabq.org, this vacuous dingleberry warned that women who drive cars risk damage to their ovaries that will likely lead to mutant babies.
I’d say regardless of driving – women risk damaging their ovaries by continuing to live in Saudi Arabia. Do women who drive, birth mutants every time? Yes. Should women be driving in general? No. But move out of Arapia first, and then worry about vehicular rights you don’t deserve. Arguing about it while you’re still living under sharia law, is like a heroin addict giving up chocolate for lent.
Appealing to Saudi women’s sense of maternal duty and utter lack of reproductive education, al-Lohaidan offered his bloviations in response to a growing social movement among Saudi women who want the right to drive for reasons including but not limited to running over assholes like this cleric.
Maybe a little genetic mutation in Saudi Arabia isn’t the worst thing in the world? Bunch of pregnant muslims sneaking into cars, turning out jews and atheists. Might teach ’em a lesson.
Muslim Clerics warn women who drive will damage their ovaries and have mutant babies: http://blogs.reuters.com/faithworld/2013/09/29/top-saudi-cleric-says-women-who-drive-risk-damaging-their-ovaries/
And in “Anti-Arab Autumn” news, the same lawyer who thinks President Obama was birthed by a lion in Kenya, is now calling for a takeover of the executive branch, in order to halt the nearly-completed installation of an Islamic theocracy in Washington.
Oh right, you Arab-spring ahead and Arab-fall back…
Larry Klayman, the asshole who tried to claim Kenyans can’t run, said this about the POTUS . . . and I’m paraphrasing . . .
Wait, I’m sorry, did you say this dude’s name was “Larry Klansmen?”
(quote) “[Don’t quote me on this, but… I don’t like] his Muslim, socialist, anti-Semitic, anti-Christian, anti-white, pro-illegal immigrant, pro-radical gay and lesbian agenda [face!].” (end quote)
Few things . . . First, I quoted you. Suck it. Next, Mexicans are all Catholic, so you can’t be pro-illegal immigrant, and anti-Christian at the same time in this country. Also, what the fuck is the “radical” gay agenda?!? . . . “Must ask, must tell… in graphic detail”? Are there super-mutant gay people, suggesting us inferior hetero-breeders will be weeded out by evolution?!? XXX Men?
Klayman goes on to suggest the President deserves prison time, and actually uses the phrase “leave town”, like he’s fucking Wyatt Earp, and Obama – being yellow bellied and lilly livered – would decide it’s best to take his family back to Chicago, or the savannah outside Nairobi, or wherever they’re from.
Obama’s Muslims agenda gone too far – Klayman calls for military coup: http://www.rightwingwatch.org/content/klayman-sets-date-revolution-end-obamas-reign-terror
And in “Would You Like to Fry in Hell With That?” news, a Chicago area restaurant is enraging Catholics all over the country by disrespecting their magic cracker. Kuma’s Corner, a “heavy metal” themed burger joint is offering a sacrilegious special in October called the “Ghost” burger, which looks kind of crappy even if you take off the controversial communion wafer garnish that has the papists so pissy.
What are we supposed to eat the body of Christ raw and unseasoned like the bloody savage Catholics?!? Can you imagine a butcher selling filet mignon, as patrons walk up in line and french kiss the steak out of his mouth. If religion isn’t stupid enough yet, in this analogy, they would all sit down and eat the bloody steak right there in the shop, while the butcher gave a speech about holy cows.
With brazen disregard for the sanctity of unleavened biscuits, the restaurant’s management is offering the tasteless treat (along with a red wine reduction) in conjunction with the release of a new album from the band “Ghost”. Apparently the band is known for dressing in clerical garb onstage, or rather, that’s what they were known for before they were known for being that band that inspired that burger joint to fuck with pope-crackers.
Well as long as the band isn’t being ironic, the “sin and out” burger should be protected under the free exercise clause. However, if they are being ironic, it’s protected under “you can do what you want”. So as long as they aren’t being ironic or genuine, the Catholics have a legitimate gripe.
Well only some reactionary Catholics have expressed outrage over this publicity stunt, more level headed papists urge a rational response. After all, it’s just a cracker. It’s not like a Cardinal has already performed the magic spell that turns it into divine jewish god-flesh or anything.
Chicago restaurant offers “Communion Burger”, Catholics lose their shit: http://religion.blogs.cnn.com/2013/10/03/is-the-communion-burger-in-poor-taste/
And from the “Who said British parties are boring” file, Students from the “Atheist, Secularist and Humanist Society” at London School of Economics were forced to leave the university’s first-year student fair, because of T-shirts with cartoons that offended religious people. In a rare twist, it was the normally thick-skinned followers of Islam that took umbrage with free speech.
Next thing you’re gonna tell me people are chopping off pieces of their babies’ dicks.
The next day, despite the hilarious solution of putting tape over the “offensive” parts, reading “Censored” and “Nothing to see here”, the atheists were once again ejected. Maybe the tape was a little insensitive . . . Can’t believe they didn’t wear burkas over the shirts on day two.
What if we just said we were offended by offense. Would it send the politically correct fucktards into a self-reinforcing feedback loop of inevitable destruction? And if we try that and it fails, can we just kick them in the nuts?
One atheist, always the diplomatic problem solver, suggested Muslims could just close their eye-slit as they walked past the atheist table. Then a pedantic onlooker who doesn’t understand sarcasm, pointed out that only women have the eye-slit thing, and eye-slit-clad women clearly aren’t allowed to study economics. Then he added, “I don’t want to be pedantic, but the eye-slit thing is called a niqab.”
Bottom line, getting offended by British nerds is YOUR fault.
Jesus and Mo T-shirts censored at LSE: http://www.patheos.com/blogs/friendlyatheist/2013/10/06/wearing-jesus-mo-shirts-doesnt-mean-youre-discriminating-against-christians-and-muslims/
And finally tonight, in “I don’t care how straight you are, you wish this was a video of two dudes going full anal” news, we bring you the latest in creative and awesome “fuck you”s directed at Fred Phelps and the notorious Westboro Baptist church.
What do you mean, “wish”? That “Phelps on Phelps Backstroke” video you sent me isn’t the one we’re talking about?
No, by court order I can’t admit to having that one. This is a different one. But there’s a set-up. Previously on the Scathing Atheist we brought you the story of Aaron Jackson who bought the house across the street from the church and painted it all gay and rainbowy. More recently we brought you the story of members of the Satanic Temple turning Phelps’ dead mom gay by beating off on her tombstone. But in an impressive display of one upmanship the punk band “Get Shot” offered the WBC the most literal “go fuck yourself” yet by going to the church and fucking themselves.
Gotta love this country. The American version of “Pussy Riot” features actual free market pussy.
Bass player and autoerotic-engineer Laura Lush decided that the lawn of the church would make an ideal backdrop for a video of her pleasuring herself dressed in nothing but nail polish.
Bass player for California punk band does some fingering below the staff.
Although she didn’t really need a porn alias, Laura Lush is also known by her porn alias, Flora Bush. When asked for a statement, she could have but didn’t say, (quote) “My bow and my staff, I come for them.”
According to the band’s press release they contacted the church in hopes of obtaining any surveillance footage that might have had a good up-vag angle, though there’s no word on whether Phelps and friends are done jacking off to it yet.
Or spanking the bass . . .
They were worried police might arrive, and they would have a real mess on their hands, so they got in and out, and got the shot quickly. She wanted to take it a second time, but the guys with the equipment were tired and ready to leave . . .
OK, as usual we’ll put 30 seconds on the clock . . . Titles for the new porn, Go!!!
Vaginal DJ in B-Cup Minor
The band’s called, Get Shot! . . . the porn’s gotta be called, “Get Money Shot!” . . . Hopefully she’s a squirter, or at least willing to get her feet wet.
Um… The Mighty Fist of God?
“The Girl with the Bass Cleft Asshole” . . . Perfect if Stieg Larsson starts writing atheist porn scripts along with the Coen Brothers.
What about just “Spunk Rock”?
Those Spunk Rockers do like to DIY.
Or just DY.
And of course, I don’t want to close this segment before pointing out that I, too, believe that god hates fags, just in case there were any punk bands in the New York area whose hot, exhibitionist bass players were looking for a lawn on which to strip naked and masturbate.
Punk Band shoots porn video on lawn of Westboro Baptist Church: https://www.facebook.com/getshotkicksass/posts/519319074820814
And on that string of below the belt jokes we’ll close the headlines. Heath, thanks as always.
And when we come back Lucinda will be here so don’t tell her about all the pussy jokes.
Okay so yeah, I read Ruth and to tell you the truth,
You sneeze and you’re through it, so screw it, I can’t write an ode to it.
I mean shit, ya’ll a poem? I don’t know, um…
Roses are red and violets are blue;
Ruth wants to fuck Boaz and he wants it too.
So they do, that’s the end, hallelujah, amen.
Cause that’s it. Holy shit, I don’t get where to go,
And I know that for seven shows in a row,
I’ve put something mildly clever together, but that can’t last forever…
Sure, I know some were ho-hum but at least they were poems,
And now it’s expected, you’d feel disrespected, dejected;
Our poor audience who saw me once as a dependable dude, it would be rude.
So I’m screwed.
Hell, I really start bumming when I look at what’s coming.
What, I’m gonna write two poems about Samuel and two about Kings?
By Chronicles we’re all gonna be sick of these things.
And I know that you’d say it’s okay, it’s not like you pay
for this shit, so a day off is fit, I can lay off for a bit and omit that skit.
But if I should neglect what our fanbase expects, what comes next?
A show with no sponsor? Or no diatribe in it?
Or one that comes out late on Friday and is 32 minutes?
So I read and reread and see that indeed;
There’s nothing worth rhyming in this whole boring screed.
Why does it bore me? No story. That’s hard to ignore, we
Just came off seven books that were horrid and gory,
And now this load of piss? No armies, no slaughter,
No tossing a rape mob your viriginal daughter,
Sure, I guess if I’m pressed, I’ll confess there’s some sex to address,
But I’m no less stressed,
Because as much innuendo I find buried just underneath,
And knowing that blowjob jokes always have teeth,
I know that there isn’t much humor this book can bequeath
And I can’t steal all the dick jokes from Lucinda and Heath…
So a thousand apologies, but I’ve written poems for all of these (of varying qualities),
But writing a poem for Ruth is like pulling a tooth.
And I’m on a deadline, still gotta write headlines and I’m crossing my redline,
So with all due respect, I’m vexed and perplexed and I can’t make this text rhyme,
So no poem for this episode, but I’ll do better the next time,
Logging in at a whopping 4 books, Ruth is one of the shortest books in the bible and is so short, in fact, that you could read it quicker than we can finish this segment, but you wouldn’t want to because it still sucks.
So joining Heath and me to take on this biblical pamphlet is my lovely wife Lucinda. Lucinda, welcome to the show.
Before we get started, it’s probably worth noting that the book of Ruth was a late edition to the Historical Books and was written by an unknown author who really, really wanted to fuck a Moabite chick and didn’t want to be stoned to death for it.
And with that let’s dive in.
First we meet Naomi who has a really shitty turn of luck. Her husband dies and both of her adult sons die, leaving her with nothing but two daughter-in-laws, and since women are worse than worthless in the bible, that’s like having less than nothing.
Sure you hear about famine in the news. But when you’re living in a safe nomadic religious desert tribe, you never think it can happen to your family. Even if your book needs a minor plot impetus.
So barren and hapless, Naomi decides to return from the land of the Moabites to her people, who are the Jews, and both of her daughter-in-laws want to come with her. She talks Orpah into fucking off, but the infatuated lesbian daughter-in-law Ruth goes off on a stalkers monologue that makes the lyrics to “I’ll Be Watching You” seem like a healthy relationship.
So they get back to Naomi’s hometown of Bethlehem and everybody runs out and says, “Hey Naomi”, but she’s changed her name because Naomi means “pleasant” and since god hated her enough to kill her family, she asks them to call her “Mara”, which means “bitter”. Because we all love these mid-book name changes.
Yeah I could do without all the”Ocho Cinco” bullshit in the bible. It’s not like she wrastled god near a directional body of water or something.
So they get back to Bethlehem and Ruth figures they gotta eat so she goes out to scrounge some leftover grain, which is what the destitute did back then. While she’s out there busting her ass, the wealthy and available Boaz takes notice of her and lays on the flirt.
And Boaz is every Jewish-stepmother-of-a-Moabite-lesbian-widow’s dream son in law. He’s in the tribe, he owns land. He’s one classy Jew. He put the Lacoste back in Holocaust before it even existed.
And it’s so hard not to sexualize the hell out of the conversation. Especially when he starts telling her to dip her morsel in his sour wine.
Or when she (quote) “fell prostrate with her face to the ground before him”
“Oops I fell over . . . I’m just a poor, clumsy shixa, trying to break into Judaism. How will I ever pay you for these free scraps of grain?”
So she gathers all the grain she can hold and brings it back to town to show Naomi cum Mara how much she got. Naomi tells her “good job. Now whoever’s dick you sucked to get this, go back and swallow next time”. Cause mom knows a good thing when she sucks it.
So Naomi hatches a plan for Ruth to win Boaz’s heart and I dare say that it’s an effective man-seducing strategy. She tells Ruth to get all dolled up, wait until Boaz gets drunk and passes out, and crawl into bed with him. And then when he wakes up, do whatever he tells you to do.
“What if he thinks I’m ugly?”
“You are ugly, Ruth. You’re an ugly race traitor whore. But beauty is in the eyes of the money shot beholder.”
Now, this is important to point out. In the book it says that mom told her to “uncover his feet” while he’s sleeping. And, of course, as we noted when we did Exodus, foot is often a biblical euphemism for the cock.
Astute listener, Will, actually emailed us to make sure we got that. “I know you guys don’t have trouble fitting dick jokes into your segments, but foot is DaVinci code for dick.”
And he was smart about it, too. He left the message in the note-line of a donation to the show, which is always the best place to leave messages for us.
So she does exactly that and when he wakes up he’s says, “Hey, chick sleeping at my feet. Cool. Who the hell are you?” So she tells him that she’s there to suck him off or whatever he prefers.
Just put your cloak over my head, like I’m a subway prostitute, so nobody will see me blowing you.
And Boaz must be a little hungover because he says, “Let me see if I can find somebody else that can fuck you tomorrow, but if not, I’ll take care of you.”
“Yeah listen . . . I know you’re new and everything, so you probably didn’t read all the stuff in the manual, but I can’t just fuck you myself when there’s a closer relative that might want to fuck you . . . I see the look on your face right now, but I swear we’re not crazy.”
And proving that he totally doesn’t know how the hooker thing works, he pays her for not fucking him and sends her on her way.
“I’m sure waking up to you technically already blowing me had nothing to do with the grain thing. Unless you’re running some sort of ageless long con . . . Nah – I’m paying you anyway.”
So then Boaz tries to pawn Ruth off on one of his relatives but when his cousin realizes that it would fuck up his inheritance, Boaz agrees to marry Ruth and take all of her dead husband’s shit and make babies with her.
Right, but he agrees to that with ten of the city elders. He doesn’t agree with her.
Hebrew woman is like altar-boy: consent is assumed.
Personal consent is too subjective. Immaculate consent is much more objective.
So yeah, after this hugely romantic gesture the book ends and we realize that no, there was no fucking point whatsoever. Except maybe to point out that King David was so awesome that even his great grandmother gets a whole book of the bible.
And yeah, that’s it. It’s a love-story with no conflict. It literally is “boy meets girl, they get married and have kids”. Nothing to resolve. It’s like a rom-com where two co-workers that get along just fine go on a business trip together and continue to get along just fine. And then they fuck.
I’m okay with that. We didn’t splash any blood or rape anybody or anything. It’s a nice change of pace. And it was the shortest book so it was also the best one.
Yeah, but it’s tempting to say that even this short-ass book was way too long considering how little it had to say, but when you consider what a bunch of raging fucking bigots biblical era jews were, the very fact that Ruth is a foreigner is plenty of conflict. According to the introductory essay in the NSRV (which is almost as long as the book in this instance), this was a post-facto addition to the Historical books meant to soften the “no boning foreigners” rule.
You can fuck them, but only flaccid. So god made women called Ruth forever ugly, as a reminder.
Except the one that donated to our show. So before we accidentally insult anymore of our financial supporters we’ll wrap this edition of the Holy Babble. Lucinda, Heath, thanks for ignoring your gag reflex long enough to keep doing this.
And remember, if you’re reading along at home, stop doing that. We’re reading it so you don’t have to.
Before we blow our load tonight I want to offer another piss-poor excuse for not having merch available yet, but I don’t have one so I’m just going to sheepishly admit that it’ll be at least one more week.
Of course I can’t end this thing without thanking Heath and Lucinda for being a collective two thirds of why this thing works and, of course, I also need to thank Shujin Tribble from the Feline Conspiracies Wednesday Night 80s Bash in Second Life for providing this week’s Farnsworth quote, I’m not sure exactly what that even is, but thanks bro, very fun one.
I also want to thank everybody who took the time this week, or any week for that matter, to leave us a five star review on iTunes. We all really appreciate that and it’s one of the best ways we know of to help us spread the word so thanks to everybody who has and to everybody who hasn’t, also known as 97% or our audience, c’mon folks, it’s free and I’m practically begging here.
I also want to thank everyone who shares the show on Facebook or Twitter or tells their friends about it or recites it aloud at the grocery store. But most of all, of course, we need to thank this week’s wittiest, prettiest and most fastidious people; Richard, Brian, Roger, Stephen, Alison, Timothy, Geoff, April, Parminder, Elena, Mike, Eric, Stephen, Will and Duncan. Known throughout the galaxy as the dirty dozen and one quarter, these fifteen heroic, resolute, dashing, daring and stouthearted adventurers have earned praise both limitless and eternal by giving us money.
Only the most valiant, valorous and venturesome vanquishers have the verisimilitude required to give us money, but if you think you measure up to the noblesse of Richard, Brian, Roger, Stephen, Alison, Timothy, Geoff, April, Parminder, Elena, Mike, Eric, Stephen, Will and Duncan, you’ll find the donate button on the right side of the homepage at Scathing Atheist (dot) com.
And a quick note to those cyclically awesome few who have tried to set up recurring monthly donations on Paypal for us, thanks a ton, for whatever reason those don’t seem to be going through, but I’m on it from my end and we’ll try to get that worked out, I promise. Believe me, nobody wants to make it easier for you to give us money than we do.
If you have questions, comments or death threats, you’ll find all the contact info on the contact page at Scathing Atheist (dot) com. All the music used in this episode was written and performed by yours truly and yes, I did have my permission.