Ask the Medium

Skiatatuk Speaks
Communiqué No. 10,447

Query
Oh Skiatatuk, please speak to me. I'm so distressed. I came home from school a week ago one afternoon (I teach third grade in the inner city) and found my husband not just at home, but on his knees in the living room praying to a painting of Jesus on black velvet that he'd just put on the wall behind our 50-inch Sony. He said during lunch hour, he'd looked down at his pinto beans and saw Jesus's face, which told him to quit his job, go home, and start praying, and await further instructions. When I went in the kitchen, I found a ten cases of pinto beans on the floor. What am I to do? Money is not a problem. He was vested in his company's IPO last year and on paper we're worth about ten million. The problem is Jesus, Christians, that whole business. I feel that I've lost my husband. He's not the same person, from morning to late at night on his knees in the living room with the Bible open beside him, with his eyes either closed or staring up at you-know-who.
                                             --Spouseless in Seattle

Response
What the fuck. My heart, if I had one in this motherfucking dimensionless place I presently inhabit, would go out to you, Spouseless. Lemme put it like this. Is he going all over the neighborhood, knocking on doors, trying to convert your neighbors? I figure not or you would've mentioned it. If not, that's a good sign. He may just be on his way to becoming a good Christian. Wait, wait. I know it's hard to believe, but there are actually a few good Christians in your shit-for-brains reality level.

See, I know it's hard as sucking your own dick--excuse me--licking your own clit to figure out what Jesus really said and really did from that bassackwards tome called the Bible. Fact is, I was just checking around here after I got your message and everybody confirms one thing: The Big Number One with the Real Jesus was (wait for it) humility. Got that? Humility.

Open your mouth once in the presence of non-Christians about what a great religion you've got and pow! You ain't a Christian no more, no fucking way. Nice little paradox there, huh? Those guys all over the TV and the newspapers and the Congress have about as much to do with the Real Jesus as Nine Inch Nails has to do with Wolfgang Amadeus fucking Mozart, if you get my drift.

The fact that hubby is keeping the whole experience close to his vest is, like I say, a very good sign for you. You may well wind up with a different--and BETTER--husband. Believe me, worse things can happen than having a genuinely humble Christian for a spouse. Right, it ain't easy, I know. Give him some time. Meanwhile, entertain yourself by trying to imagine as vividly as you can what it's like to be Mrs. Fucking TV Evangelist.

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