JessicaRulestheUniverse.com

Watch the classic South Park episode on Scientology (Tom Cruise trapped in the closet) here.

“A major cause of mankind’s problems began 75 million years ago,” the Times wrote, when the planet Earth, then called Teegeeack, was part of a confederation of ninety planets under the leadership of a despotic ruler named Xenu. “Then, as now, the materials state, the chief problem was overpopulation.” Xenu decided “to take radical measures.” The documents explained that surplus beings were transported to volcanoes on Earth. “The documents state that H-bombs far more powerful than any in existence today were dropped on these volcanoes, destroying the people but freeing their spirits—called thetans—which attached themselves to one another in clusters.” Those spirits were “trapped in a compound of frozen alcohol and glycol,” then “implanted” with “the seed of aberrant behavior.” The Times account concluded, “When people die, these clusters attach to other humans and keep perpetuating themselves. . .”

Read The Apostate: Paul Haggis vs the Church of Scientology, in the New Yorker.

This is my voodoo doll. I only use it for World Cup finals. The last time I used it, Marco Materazzi said something to Zinedine Zidane, and whatever it was Zizou was so incensed he head-butted Materazzi, and Italy went on to win the World Cup.

Weird turning point, no? Almost as if . . .voodoo were involved.

It’s the day of the final, so out comes the doll. Whom should we hex, Spain or Holland? I’m taking requests.

* * * * *

12 July 2010, 0240. Bernard-Henri texts: “Found myself in Instituto Cervantes for the game. I’m the only one here for the Oranje! I might be burned at the stake.”

That’s heresy on two counts! Heresy by thought, heresy by word, heresy by. . .three counts! Did you bring your queso de bola? Four counts!

0320. More yellow cards than a Noynoy rally, but still no score. I do not want to see a penalty shoot-out.

There is a total solar eclipse today. Going by Here Comes The Bride movie physics by Chris Martinez, if there is a total solar eclipse in a magnetic field and some Spanish and Dutch players collide, they will swap bodies. Hmmm David Villa is not himself today.

0420. For a hex to work I must feel a powerful dislike towards the hexee, and right now I dislike both teams. Urrgh. On to the existential hell of the penalty shoot-out. No wait, extra time.

Incidentally there is a much-repeated story that Albert Camus was the goalie of the Algerian football team. It is not true.

Iniesta passes the Dutchies!

0458. A goal! Iniesta! Spain 1, Holland 0. I think I’ll have fabada for lunch. A late, late lunch.

0504. Cardinal Octopus, bring out. . .the comfy chair! Spain wins the World Cup for the first time ever! Vive de largo el pulpo! Good morning.

* * * * *

Here’s my favorite post-match video: Iker Casillas is interviewed by his girlfriend, TV presenter Sara Carbonero.

The Countess is the third film directed by Julie Delpy. It’s the story of Erzsebet Bathory, a powerful countess who becomes obsessed with a younger man. She starts taking measures to preserve her youth and beauty, measures which become more and more extreme. First she starts using the blood of virgins as a skin cream. Eventually her henchmen are kidnapping young maidens and murdering them so she can bathe in their blood.

I told Noel about this bizarre movie, and he recognized the Countess Bathory as one of the inspirations for Bram Stoker’s Dracula.

So much bloodshed could’ve been averted if it had occurred to the countess to inject herself with botulism toxin instead. Blood, botulism, placenta, blubber—the beauty business is built on icky stuff.

Satan Comes to the Gates of Hell, one of William Blake’s illustrations to Milton’s Paradise Lost

Yesterday I got this text message from Maria Consolata, aka Maricon.

“My taxi driver is sharing his experiences. . .as a Satanist. Converted back to Christianity. He is now reciting the reverse Ten Commandments. Sounds like a tape recorder.”

I asked Maricon to tape the driver’s recitation on his phone, which he did. We will have lunch today so he can give me the details and I can listen to the recording. The full report later.

This is why I resist the urge to chat up the cabbie. Too much information. Inevitably the conversation veers towards politics or religion and you really don’t want to say anything that will cause the cabbie to drive into a lamppost. Any trip is more comfortable if you remain unaware of the fact that at some point in his life the driver worshipped Satan and his favorite song was “Hotel California”.

* * * * *

Listened to the recording: It’s insane! The ex-Satanist does this rapid-fire stream of consciousness monologue for ten minutes. His nickname for Satan is “Taning”—apparently many local Christians don’t want to say the full name for fear of invoking the bad one. The cabbie recounts how his mother prayed for his conversion by walking on her knees in Quiapo Church for nine Fridays in a row. On the ninth Friday he claims that he spontaneously cried, “Gusto ko nang magbago!” (I want to change!) but it was a difficult process—he’d resolve not to go to the devil worship services, and then find himself there. Freaky stuff, will need time to transcribe it.

On my way to UP for the premiere of Kinatay I received a text joke.

‘Carlo Caparas named National Artist for Visual Arts and Film.’

Hahahahaha, I replied.

Then I remembered where I am.

I’m in the Philippines where the bizarre is ordinary and the ordinary is bizarre.

So I checked. It is not a joke. It is the Ultimate WhattheFuck.

All this week I’ve been blue for no particular reason. I thought I was depressed. This news snapped me right out of whatever funk I was in. My non-problems are nothing compared to this Cosmic Absurdity.

So thank you, Malacanang. You have banished my ennui and replaced it with full-blown Insanity.

Art is Shit. Shit is Art. Mediocrity is Excellence. To quote the bomba star Stella Strada’s suicide note, It’s a crazy planets!

*****

Our friend Noel Orosa is returning to Manila Friday after a year in KL. Hey Noel, Carlo Caparas is a National Artist now. Welcome home, bitch.

Greeting card by Charles Platt, 1994 (found on Boing Boing)

Here’s a tract by a theologian who argues that Santa IS Satan. And it’s not just dyslexia!