Two nights ago, my friend New Slang Philosopher* came over with both cocktails and hors d’oeuvres. Of course, the former included a bottle of Starbucks coffee liqueur and fat free half ‘n’ half**, while the latter included pita chips and hummus, but I was not complaining. In fact, the little feast was glorious. I put the kids to bed and New Slang Philosopher mixed drinks.
We sat at the kitchen table, drinks in one hand, pita pieces in another, and talked. We talked way into the night about motherhood and academia and the difficulty of finances and men. It was a good night, made even better by the fact that New Slang is incredibly smart in a way I’m not, but we complement each other pretty well. She’s way more theoretical and academic than I am, and her capacity for remembering specific philosophies of people like Hegel and Heidegger is astounding.
If you’re wondering why I’m not so good at those types of things, it’s because that, even though I know better, every time someone says “Hegel,” I think, “You mean Katherine? I really liked her in Knocked Up.”
This is why, though I may teach college, I will never truly be an academic. I only win Academe Points*** because I at least know better than to mention the actress, as opposed to the philosopher.
But at my kitchen table, with a few shots of Starbucks liqueur in her, New Slang Philosopher was more in my normal league of thought. This became readily apparent when she started telling me about her conversion to Christianity as a teenager. This was immediately interesting to me, because New Slang is so different now, and because I had a conversion story myself, so I could relate. Toward the end of the story, New Slang gave a few reasons why she thought the teenage conversion worked, and so said, “And, you know, Jesus was this really cool guy.”
“Yeah. I always kinda thought that.”
“I mean, he was so charismatic. With all those sermons and the way he led people.”
“He was kinda hot.”
I choked on my drink. “Wait What?”
“You know. He was so amazing in the Bible. Imagine what it would have been like to be around him. You’d be attracted to him.”
I tried to consider this for a moment. “Maybe,” I said. “But he’d smell bad.” When New Slang frowned at me, I added, “Because there weren’t showers.”
(Note to self: if you ever again use the sentence “because there weren’t showers” to make an argument about Biblical times, unless it's about leprosy, then I’m going to kick your ass.)“No one had showers, TM. You would have smelled the same way.”
"Look, don’t you think Jesus was cute?”
"Because I’ve read lots of religious and theological texts, and I’m telling you, lots of nuns think the same way.”
“I’m not sure nuns are a good litmus test…”
“I mean, every time I think about Him turning over the tables of the money changers, I get all excited. Because Jesus is fucking hot.”
“JESUS IS NOT HOT!”
“He’s totally hot! Admit it!”
“YOU CAN’T SAY JESUS IS HOT!”
“I can! Read Matthew! Read John!”
I plugged my ears. "NO! JESUS IS NOT HOT!"
New Slang laughed while I felt physically ill.
Which brings us to today. Often on my other blog, I have something I call "The Friday Challenge." Issued on a Friday, readers have several days to contemplate said challenge. I've asked people to give me their most irrational fears and write my new personal ad (not at the same time, though that does give me an idea for next week). This time, I'm asking you to post the craziest conversation you've had with anyone that would somehow rival the end of mine, which is "Jesus is fucking hot." Post your best example by Tuesday, September 16, 12:00 noon, PST. I’ll pick the winner the following Friday and he or she will get bragging rights.
Game on, people.
*So named because I think I’m going to use the term “Jesus is hot” as slang for “that’s crazy talk.” Forever and ever, Amen*.
**Does anyone else call shenanigans on fat free half ‘n’ half? I just can’t see how there isn’t something completely wrong with that concept. It must be either a total lie and is therefore loaded with fat, or it causes cancer. There can be no in between!
***which can be saved redeemed for either a tenured track position in the discipline of your choice, or a sabbatical in Greece. Proof of purchase not required.
*[The footnote of a footnote! Eat that David Foster Wallace!] The conversation above ended abruptly when I said, “I’m so putting this on the blog!”
“No! You can’t!”
“Come on. You just said, ‘Jesus is fucking hot!’ How can I not use that?”
"I’ll give you a fake name.”
“Do you do this to all of your friends?”
"To be fair, no one has ever given me a "Jesus is fucking hot" before."
"Just don't make me look bad."
"I'll do my best, but you've set a high bar here."