There was once a time when you called a place looking for a person. You called their house, or their job, or the store where they were going shopping if you needed to tell them to pick up a quart of milk on the way home.

Today, you call the person. Cell phones have almost become a requirement for daily life. They are so common, that travellers no longer have to buy maps, all they have to do is call their destination and ask, "Where are you?"

During the Hurricane Rita evacuation, an evacuee called us from the Interstate, booked a room, then called us every fifteen minutes for directions. And, of course, she got lost. The directions: "Take I-10 west until you get to the US Highway 87 North exit. I don't know the exit number, but there is a sign that says 'Fredericksburg, San Angelo'. Turn right on 87 North. Drive 25 miles. When you get to Main Street, turn left. We're six blocks down on your left, next to the Winery." She called us seventeen times wanting to know how she would get from where she was to where we were. We'd ask, "Where are you?" "I just passed a muffler shop."

One guy booked a house. He came to the office and got a map. I gave him verbal directions that were identical to the directions on his map: "Take 290 west out about five miles past the Nimitz Museum. Look for a street sign that says Cain City Road. Turn right. Drive down 6 miles until you reach the Luckenbach road intersection. Turn left there. The house is on the right." He called ten minutes later, he calls and tells me my directions were wrong. He drove ten miles and didn't see the intersection. I asked where he turned. he said he turned by th KOA. "You're on the wrong road, sir. You're on FM 1673. You went 500 yards too far. Go back to 290 and turn left. . ." "I just passed Luckenbach Road and it only turns right. Can I turn there?" "Yes, but i don't know the milage from that end of the road." "Why not?" I wanted to say, "Because we never expected a moron to not be able to follow directions," but instead I said, "Because that's not the way we tell people to go."

Last year, a young couple wanted to stop by our office to book a room. They call on their cell phone. "Where are you?" I give them the address. "No. What are you next to?" "We're between Crockett and Orange Streets, in the middle of the block on the south side of the street, next to Fredericksburg Winery." "how do I get there?" "Where are you?" "At the corner of Main and Crockett." "Great you're only a half block away. Which way are you headed: East or West?" "I don't know." "What is on your left?" "The courthouse." "You're headed West. We're in the middle of the next block on the left." Ten minutes later, the guy calls back. "I can't find you." "Where are you?" "On Main Street." Sigh. "What's on your left?" "Napa Auto Parts." "You drove four blocks too far. Turn around. Drive three blocks. Look on your right. Look for a short guy flipping you the bird. That'll be me standing on the sidewalk trying to flag you down!"

Everyone seems to be upset by people who drive and talk on their cell phones. Yet, everyother car is driven by a person with a cell phone in their ear. Every other person in the supermarket is walking down the aisle while on the phone. On every sidewalk in every city dozens of people are having coversations with the folks they left at home. Is it any wonder that researchers are learning that cell phones are are a bigger danger to family life than gay marriage?

Syncronicity struck yesterday. Shortly after I posted my little gripe about Chri$tma$, I ran across an editorial in the International Herald Tribune, titled "Commercialize Christmas, or else" by Adam Cohen. In the article, Cohen describes the history of Christmas. There's a one thing I found amusing: the original Puritans despised the Christmas holiday. Wrote Cohen, "They could not find Dec. 25 in the Bible and insisted that the date derived from Saturnalia, the Roman heathens' wintertime celebration." It was Emperor Constantine who set the date to join the Christian celebration with the pagan celebration. (This is the same reason most of the Religious Right boycott Halloween. Nothing wrong with a little hypocrisy.) That view held forth through much of the 1800s, that the celebration of Chri$tma$ distracted worshippers from religious piety.

It wasn't until the late 1800s, when "A Visit from St. Nicholas" was published with illustrations by Thomas Nast that we got the image of a jolly Santa.

In the 1920s, business adopted Chri$tma$ as their own holiday. That's when the phrase "Holiday Shopping Season" begins appearing. The popularity of Chri$tma$ exploded. By 1953, folks were complaining that the celebration of Christ's birth had become a time to seek profits. In 1965, "A Charlie Brown Christmas" aired, popularizing the sentiment. Linus even read from the Bible, something no other Chri$tma$ special had done before, to emphasize the point. Sadly, we ignored the lesson.

Today, most corporations generate half their revenues in November and December. Folks even have put up Paris Hilton Christmas displays! That's American!

So the "old fashioned American Christmas" that everyone is mourning is really about the generation of corporate revenues. If it was really about Christ, we wouldn't buy gifts, we wouldn't bake pies, we wouldn't travel and we wouldn't consume rum laced milk drinks. We would be in church.

For God so loved the World that He wanted everyone to get an iPod, He sent His only begotten Son.

While standing in line at Wal-Mart the other day, clutching my single purchase tightly to my chest lest it be ripped from my arms in the Chri$tma$-time consumerism corporate America so dearly loves, I heard the lady in front of me tell the clerk: "It's so good to hear Merry Christmas instead of Happy Holidays. God bless you!" Then she pushed her creaking shopping cart away from the check stand.

I think the fine folks behind the counter should start saying, "Happy Hannukah, Happy Kwanzaa and Merry Christmas." (And if they could throw in an "Allahu Akbar," that would be gravy.)

I'm as pissed as anyone about "Holiday Trees." But this whole backlash against "Happy Holidays" is asinine. Christmas is a celebration of Jebus' birth, and should be celebrated in the church of your choice, not in a fucking Wal-Mart! That's where you celebrate Chri$tma$: the annual buying frenzy that makes corporate America all its profits for the year. Anyone with a fistful of cash can celebrate Chri$tma$. Heck, even Japan celebrates Chri$tma$, complete with trees, reindeer, and Santa, but without a Saviour in sight. It's actually kind of refreshing to be able to freely indulge in selfish behavior of making out a Chri$tma$ list, telling your friends what they can and can't get you. And as an added bonus, all the stores are open!

So screw Pat Buchanan. Have a Happy Holidays, Ya'll, and may the God of your choice bless you!

If you are offended by nudity, leave now! AND WHATEVER YOU DO: DO NOT SCROLL DOWN! Jebus is not responsible for your offended eyes. (I did blur out the naughty bits. My readers, like most in Jesusistan, are not mature enough to see a nipple. Like the great Jimmy Swaggart, who frequented prostitutes for his flock, I risked blindness by seeing the nipple. Of course, you could just click the link. . .)

"A German Protestant youth group has put together a 2006 calendar with 12 staged photos depicting erotic scenes from the Bible, including a bare-breasted Delilah cutting Samson's hair and a nude Eve offering an apple," according to a Reuters story. (Sorry to quote the entire thing, but Jebus can't make this shit up!)

"There's a whole range of biblical scriptures simply bursting with eroticism," said Stefan Wiest, the 32-year-old photographer who took the titillating pictures.

Anne Rohmer, 21, poses on a doorstep in garters and stockings as the prostitute Rahab, who is mentioned in both New and Old Testaments. "We wanted to represent the Bible in a different way and to interest young people," she told Reuters.

"Anyway, it doesn't say anywhere in the Bible that you are forbidden to show yourself nude."

Bernd Grasser, pastor of the church in Nuremberg where the calendar is being sold, was enthusiastic about the project which is explained online at www.bibelkalender.de.

"It's just wonderful when teenagers commit themselves with their hair and their skin to the bible," he said.

For those folks in Jesusistan who cannot embrace sex in the Bible, permit me to quote The Song of Solomon:

(1:2.) Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine. (1:4) Draw me, we will run after thee: the king hath brought me into his chambers: we will be glad and rejoice in thee, we will remember thy love more than wine: the upright love thee. (1:5) I am black, but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem. . . [If were of color, as the PC crowd would say, that line would offend me. It would have to be excised from the Bible. "Black, but comely?" Does that mean blacks are not comely? -Ed.]

(4:5)Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins, which feed among the lilies.

(4:10) How fair is thy love, my sister, my spouse! [The Bible condones incest! -Ed.]

(4:12-15) A garden inclosed is my sister, my spouse; a spring shut up, a fountain sealed. Thy plants are an orchard of pomegranates, with pleasant fruits; camphire, with spikenard, Spikenard and saffron; calamus and cinnamon, with all trees of frankincense; myrrh and aloes, with all the chief spices: A fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, and streams from Lebanon. [C'mon! You don't have to be a perv to figure this one out!]

(4:16) Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south; blow upon my garden,that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his pleasant fruits. [oh, yeah! Oral sex ordained by God! -Ed.]

(8:16) Make haste, my beloved, and be thou like to a roe or to a young hart upon the mountains of spices. ["Faster! Faster!" -Ed.]

Who say religion is boring?

Praise Jebus and pass the condoms!

I need a game developer, now!

Last night, I had a dream about the perfect video game. It's a cross between Mortal Combat and NBA Street.

It stars the Harlem Globetrotters. They fight their opponants before they play basketball. It could be cell shaded and use the character models from the cartoon series.

Huh? Huh? What do you think? Great idea, huh?

Not secure enough in their self-esteem, the Tampa Bay Buccaneers lived up to their names today, by not allowing the Saints to improve their record. A devastating blow to the homeless New Orleans Saints, but not a blow to our movement to demand justice from the evil Bush/NFL coalition.

And just what is Bush doing while the homeless Saints are being oppressed by American society? Nothing! He sits in his WHITE house, eating his WHITE bread, and WHITEwashing the news. This man is indeed color blind. He only sees WHITE! He doesn't see Black and Gold. No, his eyes are clouded by the red, WHITE, and blue.

But our cause is just! Our cause is noble! Only our cause is compassionate! We must join together and demand that the Saints be named winner of Super Bowl LX! That is the only way Bush can atone for his inaction while Katrina submerged New Orleans!

As a long time comic book fan, I have to admit that whenever I see Jeff Corwin in Australia, I hope that he will visit Steve Irwin. It would be the crossover of the century! In true Marvel fashion, our two intrepid heroes would spend the first act or two fighting each other, the next act they would realize someone else was behind their conflict, and agree to work together. The last act, the two would fight side by side to defeat their common foe. It would be, to quote Kor, "Glorious!"

God, I need a life.