There is no Rockband in Heaven...

Today, me and my friends went out to eat 6-bucks fatties, and it wasn't until an hour or two later, on our way downtown to buy some yarn, that the conversation turned into the day.

It's Ash Wednesday. Translation: we shouldn't have gone to eat fatties. Why? Because we looooove them fatties with pork. Asadito and pork. Yeah! We had them and enjoyed every SINGLE bite out of them. One of my friends (S, the one who acts like our spiritual conscience once and a while -- and we luuuuv her for it) was gasping at the realization of the day. "It's Ash Wednesday!"
"Yes," I said. "And you're going to hell."

The subsequent question was the "WHY?" Because of the pork, of course. We are going to hell because of the pork... but me and Mr God -- we already knew that we were going to hell in the first place, me for being a pagan and him for being a red-communist atheist, right? So, we're telling her how she is going to go there, eating fatties while festering on the pot next to ours.

She wasn't all that thrilled. She wanted to go to heaven, she said. Then, the conversation turned into "heaven is boring." All the cool people are in hell. Lennon is in hell, Harrison is in hell... Hendrix is in hell... and-and all the gays you've ever love? They're in hell too!Probably the only main-stream artist who has died and is NOT in hell is Michael Jackson because then you would have to send all those pedophilia priests to hell too or else it just wouldn't be fair. So MJ is in heaven... "because he likes children".

She then stated, "but I want to be where God is. And God is in Heaven!". At to which I pointed out: "well, technically, God is EVERYWHERE -- so, God's in hell too!!" and even if this IS a good point, she still wasn't convinced of the stature of hell. It was still too enticing to see herself jumping around from cloud to cloud, flapping her pretty little angelic wings. Then, I said. "There is no Rockband in Heaven."

 True. Rockband is the Devil's tool. It makes your spirit and  brain sell itself to satan's music (basically). So, there is no Rockband in heaven... hell, there's no BEATLES Rockband in heaven because Lennon is in hell. Maybe you'll get a christian Rockband, but then again, one cannot sing "Foreplay", or "Carry on my Wayward Son," or "You Oughtta Know," or "Paranoid," in that version of the game.

There is no rockband nor vodka. There is no sensation of feeling ALIVE because there is no fear. There is no VH1, not Junk TV and no porn. There is no sense of self-encouragement and no self-esteem (because you don't need it). There are no six-bucks fatties. There is no place for questioning faith nor no place to ever doubt the word of the Lord as something that CAN (and has) failed. There is no expectations because you already know that bliss is around you and you do not need to find it, there for there is no meaning to existence. There is no sense in being the best at something, and there is no need to feel anything. All you feel is love. And all you ever are is happy. And with light all around you, how can your soul shine if there is no darkness?

There is no rockband in heaven, my darlings. And for that, there is no ash in my head today.

There is no Rockband in Heaven...

Today, me and my friends went out to eat 6-bucks fatties, and it wasn't until an hour or two later, on our way downtown to buy some yarn, that the conversation turned into the day.

It's Ash Wednesday. Translation: we shouldn't have gone to eat fatties. Why? Because we looooove them fatties with pork. Asadito and pork. Yeah! We had them and enjoyed every SINGLE bite out of them. One of my friends (S, the one who acts like our spiritual conscience once and a while -- and we luuuuv her for it) was gasping at the realization of the day. "It's Ash Wednesday!"
"Yes," I said. "And you're going to hell."

The subsequent question was the "WHY?" Because of the pork, of course. We are going to hell because of the pork... but me and Mr God -- we already knew that we were going to hell in the first place, me for being a pagan and him for being a red-communist atheist, right? So, we're telling her how she is going to go there, eating fatties while festering on the pot next to ours.

She wasn't all that thrilled. She wanted to go to heaven, she said. Then, the conversation turned into "heaven is boring." All the cool people are in hell. Lennon is in hell, Harrison is in hell... Hendrix is in hell... and-and all the gays you've ever love? They're in hell too!Probably the only main-stream artist who has died and is NOT in hell is Michael Jackson because then you would have to send all those pedophilia priests to hell too or else it just wouldn't be fair. So MJ is in heaven... "because he likes children".

She then stated, "but I want to be where God is. And God is in Heaven!". At to which I pointed out: "well, technically, God is EVERYWHERE -- so, God's in hell too!!" and even if this IS a good point, she still wasn't convinced of the stature of hell. It was still too enticing to see herself jumping around from cloud to cloud, flapping her pretty little angelic wings. Then, I said. "There is no Rockband in Heaven."

 True. Rockband is the Devil's tool. It makes your spirit and  brain sell itself to satan's music (basically). So, there is no Rockband in heaven... hell, there's no BEATLES Rockband in heaven because Lennon is in hell. Maybe you'll get a christian Rockband, but then again, one cannot sing "Foreplay", or "Carry on my Wayward Son," or "You Oughtta Know," or "Paranoid," in that version of the game.

There is no rockband nor vodka. There is no sensation of feeling ALIVE because there is no fear. There is no VH1, not Junk TV and no porn. There is no sense of self-encouragement and no self-esteem (because you don't need it). There are no six-bucks fatties. There is no place for questioning faith nor no place to ever doubt the word of the Lord as something that CAN (and has) failed. There is no expectations because you already know that bliss is around you and you do not need to find it, there for there is no meaning to existence. There is no sense in being the best at something, and there is no need to feel anything. All you feel is love. And all you ever are is happy. And with light all around you, how can your soul shine if there is no darkness?

There is no rockband in heaven, my darlings. And for that, there is no ash in my head today.

Ash Wednesday coming on Thursday

It was Ash Wednesday yesterday and there was NO WIND!!! I mean, Ash Wednesday is not Ash Wednesday without wind here in Juarez... gaaaah!

Yesterday was also the "Last Wednesday" meeting -- every last Wednesday the Dean gets all the students and teachers together to have this meeting and talk about important stuff. This time it was to welcome the new students to the university and to tell us the sad-long story of why is the main road that leads to the university is still dirt.

I have been at this school for two years now... and the school has been here for about 15... and it's still time that the road that leads to the school's gate is not paved. And in front of the gates there is this water canal that just screams "fall in!" every time we go out in our poor cars (mine is already demanding suspension maintenance)... The Dean went on for, like, thirty minutes telling the story of the oger and the fair prince who tried to convince the oger (the oger being our neighbors from down the road) to pull together and pave the street.

Then, it was time to give out the awards for the best averages last semester. In the afternoon it was all smooth sailings, but in the morning all the high averages were outside, smoking a cigarette and just slacking off. The dean was not happy. The sheer image of that made him all pissy and he took it out on the first teacher he saw fit to. No, not me... but I pitied the soul.


I had the fist capirotada of the season yesterday... well, it was more like the first two capirotadas of the season. One was brought by my mother, who said she was in the mood for some pipian gorditas (or as my friend Eidrien calls them --- fatties) and she went all the way downtown to get them (lame-ass excuse to see her boyfriend, m-kay?) and the second one was brought by a neighbor, and even though my father tried to persuade us that he did not take a bite out of it, the plate was evidence enough for me to suspect that not only did he took a bite out but that he pretty much took a whole chunk on his way in. They were both pretty good --- the neighbor's capirotada leads the way.

It's 9:56 a.m. In 4 minutes I have to go to class and give my best to make these people understand why is important for them to know how to write coherent pieces of information in English. They tend to believe it's not necessary up until they sit in front of the computer and see that the TOEFL examination requires them to write their little fingerish souls out. Then, I get to see grown men cry and cradle as they start to suck on their thumb.

Oh, how the mighty fall!