Saturday, January 28, 2006
ER still life: Nightlight Jesus in cow-themed coffee mug, with vintage Mountain Dew bottle, on home office bookshelf
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Interesting that I only noticed this because of the way the photo is cropped. The book that shows "The Passion" has nothing to do with The Passion of the Christ; it's "The Passion of Andrew Jackson, by Andrew Burstein.
the primative composition effectively underscores the radical subtext expressed in this piece, a paean to the common man and his constant struggle to overcome his own self-destructive nature....i give it seventy.
KEvron
KEvron
If one were of a philosophical bent one might see the object pictured as a declaration that Jesus was the Nightlight of the World. Seeing the lamb in his arms also reminds me of a statement I once heard, again from a Philosophy source that: "Jesus was the Lamb of God and his fleece was white as snow."
# posted by 
: 12:27 AM
: 12:27 AM
ER said: "KEvron, your review is its own masterpiece!'
But he gave you a D- Bubba!
But he gave you a D- Bubba!
# posted by : 10:51 AM
: 10:51 AM
Gold darn it, This just beats the heck out of C.B. radios!
http://eruditeredneck.blogspot.com
/2004/09/breaker-breaker.html
http://eruditeredneck.blogspot.com
/2004/09/breaker-breaker.html
I don't care, mountain dew or freezes
Long as I have my plastic Jesus
Sitting in the cow mug on my desk!
It glows in the dark
It's phosphorescent
Makes green bottles glow all pleasant
Sitting in the cow mug on my desk!
I conned my kids into entering Mr. Kate's Jeezified classroom in the Catholic high school he teaches at by promising to teach them "a little song" on the ride home. (they are offended by overt religion for reasons I don't entirely fathom - militant secularists).
Long as I have my plastic Jesus
Sitting in the cow mug on my desk!
It glows in the dark
It's phosphorescent
Makes green bottles glow all pleasant
Sitting in the cow mug on my desk!
I conned my kids into entering Mr. Kate's Jeezified classroom in the Catholic high school he teaches at by promising to teach them "a little song" on the ride home. (they are offended by overt religion for reasons I don't entirely fathom - militant secularists).
# posted by : 6:15 PM
: 6:15 PM
FF, it's a plastic tube in which one can carry a single cigar, to keep it fresh and keep it from getting smushed.
E.R., just be glad it's not pink. It could easily be mistaken for a similar product designed for women's discreet purposes. LOL!!!!!
I am blushin' from my ears to my toes.
One of these days I'll blog about a sixth-grade ER and much confusion over "cinnamon napkins."
One of these days I'll blog about a sixth-grade ER and much confusion over "cinnamon napkins."
Whoops. I already did:
http://eruditeredneck.blogspot.com
/2005/05/i-love-my-truck.html
The salient part:
Last day of class. We’re cleaning the room for Mr. Horn. I’m on a ladder going through stuff on the top shelf of the big closet at the back of the classroom. There’s a big box.
“My Horn, what do I do with this?” I asked. “Nothing. Leave it there. It’s full of cinnamon napkins,” he said. “Ah, OK,” I thought. “Whatever. There is that candy machine just inside the door of the girl’s bathroom.”
And not thinking too much on it, really, I “thought” somethin’ like, “girls … cinnamon napkins .. whatever …”
Later, someone asked ME what about the box. I said, “Mr. Horn said to leave it because it’s full of cinnamon napkins.” Whereupon Mr. Horn’s eyes buged out, watered up and he got so red I thought was fixin’ to explode.
And I was in high school before I put together “feminine napkins” and “cinnamon napkins,” a realization without which I would think my bloggin’ buddy Bitch a “cinnamist” (see part no. 445).
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http://eruditeredneck.blogspot.com
/2005/05/i-love-my-truck.html
The salient part:
Last day of class. We’re cleaning the room for Mr. Horn. I’m on a ladder going through stuff on the top shelf of the big closet at the back of the classroom. There’s a big box.
“My Horn, what do I do with this?” I asked. “Nothing. Leave it there. It’s full of cinnamon napkins,” he said. “Ah, OK,” I thought. “Whatever. There is that candy machine just inside the door of the girl’s bathroom.”
And not thinking too much on it, really, I “thought” somethin’ like, “girls … cinnamon napkins .. whatever …”
Later, someone asked ME what about the box. I said, “Mr. Horn said to leave it because it’s full of cinnamon napkins.” Whereupon Mr. Horn’s eyes buged out, watered up and he got so red I thought was fixin’ to explode.
And I was in high school before I put together “feminine napkins” and “cinnamon napkins,” a realization without which I would think my bloggin’ buddy Bitch a “cinnamist” (see part no. 445).
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