Since I am out of town in some savage backward village the locals call "San Diego" doing missionary work, I decided to wire a little sermon in leu of regularly scheduled service. So please,
sit on your faces like the most pious Arch Bishop Troy, and meditate feverishly as you take in today's lesson
And it came to pass that Bnengets found himself once again answering questions posed by the elders of Mentone. Thus spaketh the chief priest the Mentonenittes called Smegma, "Oh teacher, but if thou doth knowest the will of Dog, then surely you can tell us the meaning of it all." Bnengets sat silently on the ground and drew a symbol of a penis in the sand before rubbing it out and then replied, "We can all be ugly sometimes. Bags under our eyes, the vile things we can say... Veins portruding from our foreheads. I would like to think that without these incidents we couldn't be beautiful. Flowers would smell like plastic and love would be nondescript. And just like the universe, we can't help but destroy ourselves. Negative numbers help balance out the equation, and imaginary numbers I'd rather not discuss at the moment. For every glass that is half empty lives a sucessful fool who sees it half full, and whether we choose to count the ashes or call them fertilizer, existence collapses onto itself just the same, only to expand, rinse and repeat if desired." Baffled by his wisdom, the edlers stood silent while their anus' collective clinched.
--2 Bnengets 12:20-53
