LENTAL SOUP :: The Life (Semi-)Aquatic: Exposing the Lenten Fish Conspiracy...

It's Week 2 of Lent. Historically, this is the week that separates the men from the boys. (Though, if you're an altar boy, that separation was court-ordered long ago.) We hope you've held strong to your Lenten sacrifice. Things fell apart pretty quickly for us here at the TPC. We blame all the Protestants and interfaith couples on our staff. (We also blame your sister.) But don't give up hope; you're halfway there, buddy. This week, Lent-al Soup explores everybody's favorite part of Lent: the Friday Fast. Get some historical analysis after the jump.

The practice of fasting and abstinence on Fridays has been a long-held tradition in the Catholic Church. Technically, every Friday is supposed to be a day of fasting and penance; however, this mandate was circumvented in the 1960s thanks to another long-held Catholic tradition: the Loophole. But during Lent, many Catholics do observe this fast by abstaining from eating meat on Fridays.

Except for your sister. (Zing!)

So what's with the fish? Well, like half-assed vegetarians, Catholics don't count fish as actual living things. Once again, cows and chickens get a reprieve while little Nemo is thrown under the
the bus -- or in the sauté pan, as it were. Why's that? Not surprisingly, it's all about business.

Try to recall what you learned back in Catholic school. No, not the repressed memories of altar boy practice and that weekend you went camping with Father McFeely, but all those religion classes you had to take. All those disciples had jobs before they took off with Jesus, didn't they? Jobs as fisherman? Yep. Remember, a lot of the action of the early Church took place around the water since their leader was a guy who enjoyed walking on it.

Show off.

Now, fast-forward to Rome. According to legend, a mistress of one of the early Popes had a husband in the fishing industry. The mistress allegedly withheld sex until the Pope agreed to mandate that fish be consumed on Fridays during the fast so that the fishermen could move their product before the weekend. The Pope gets laid, the fishermen make money, you get a loophole to your fast. Everybody wins.

But one loophole is never enough. What about people who live in places without an abundance of fish? Or people who don't like fish, but still want to find a way around actually observing a real fast? Worry not; we'll just start reclassifying species for you.

Yes, in a special dispensation, the Catholic Church classified the capybara as a fish. While there are differing accounts of how exactly this arose, the popular story details a group of 16th-century missionaries who made a request implying that the semi-aquatic animal might actually be a fish, and therefore, suitable for consumption during Lent. Once again, the Catholic Church's ever-competent grasp of science and biology prevailed. There are other references to German's eating beavers in a similar exception.

Turns out we've been observing this all along.

If any of us here were still Catholics, we might actually be disenchanted. But growing up in the Church has taught us that, like those sore your sister gave us, the more you pick at these things the uglier they get. It's nothing but lies and bullshit and disappointment -- kinda like LOST, but with more pedophilia.

In the Catholic Church, we'd call this "Exhibit A."

To wit: The Catholic principle of transubstantiation holds that during the act of Eucharist the bread and wine transforms into the body and blood of Jesus. (For reals.) If that's the case, then technically, you shouldn't take the Eucharist on a Friday during Lent. Human flesh counts as meat right? But we guess, divine flesh doesn't count. And after all, Jesus was 100% human and 100% divine. We know; the math doesn't add up, but remember, Catholics are as good at math as they are at science.

See what we mean? The clusterfuck that passes for Catholic doctrine reads like Chris Claremont's run on X-Men -- nothing but retcons, ripped off of fairy tales, and bs origin stories. Semi-aquatic mammals, cannibalism, divine loopholes? Maybe, all this is moving toward some kind of cosmic convergence. In another 1,000 years Catholics will be eating humans and worshiping this:

"Dominus Spiritus est ubi autem Spiritus Domini, illic libertas."

Next week: "Ladies Plight: Vaginas, Theodicy, and Institutional Misogyny" ...TPC.

Don't Ask Don't Tell: A Plea to Carly Simon...

Thirty-eight years after its recording, Carly Simon's "You're So Vain" has left music fans guessing as to whom the song was actually about. Candidates have ranged from Warren Beatty, Mick Jagger, Cat Stevens, and David Geffen. A new recording of the song may contain some clues. Apparently, Simon whispers the name "David" backwards on the track. However, it seems like this is a red herring since she also whispers "Warren" backwards on another track. So who knows.

All this has us concerned. Some secrets should be kept secret. Sure, we all want to know who pissed off Simon enough to inspire one of history's best fuck-off songs, but the truth can't match our imaginations. It's like LOST; we've endured five seasons of mysteries and questions, and now in the final season, learning the truth has been disappointing, uninteresting, and downright far-fetched -- even for LOST. (The Temple has a hot tub that brings people back from the dead? ...Fuck you, guys.) Please, Miss Simon, don't reveal the name. The mystery is better than truth.
- TPC

LENTAL SOUP :: After the Rapture Pet Care...

It's Lent, which means Catholics everywhere are ostensibly entering into 40 days of reflection and sacrifice while continuing to furiously masturbate behind closed doors (it's okay as long as we feel guilty afterward). To celebrate this somber season, we here at the TPC are bringing you a weekly report on the best the Christian World has to offer. This week, we investigate After the Rapture Pet Care. Get our full report after the jump.

For you heathen non-believers, the Rapture is a biblically prophesied event in which all the "saved" of the world will be taken up to Heaven in an instant -- poof -- just like that. Think of it like FlashForward, but without all the shitty writing and contrived plot points.

It's comforting to know that in the wake of global disaster, the FBI still has time to make poop jokes.

So anyway, there are people out there who actually believe in the Rapture -- people who believe that one day they're going to wake up, and abracadabra, they're on the express train to Jesus Town. Just like FlashForward (we really wish there was a better show to reference, really we do), such an event would result in massive global devastation. If you're a believer, no worries; you long gone.

Meanwhile, the rest of us are stuck down here dealing with the fall out from having millions people instantaneously disappear -- you know, train wrecks, car crashes and planes falling from the sky because Captain Sully got drafted by the Saints. While it's been rumored that Christian airline pilots are always paired with non-Christian ones just in case, it's apparently not true. (Why the fuck not?)

Bet they wish Jesus was their co-pilot.

The Rapture is kind of like Jesus' final fuck you to all us unfaithful atheists, secular humanists, and religious folks who bet on the wrong horse (i.e. Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists). In case you missed the memo, JC decided to dispense with all the peace and love for the Second Coming. Jesus 2.0 is kind of a dick.

So faced with the impending Rapture, the first question any good believer asks is: "What will happen to my pets after I'm gone?" Enter, After the Rapture Pet Care. For $9.95 a month, ARPC will ensure that you pet is safely looked after when you're raptured, because, apparently we'll have nothing better to do in the post-Rapture devastation, but look after your stupid fucking cat.

Immediately, several questions arise:

1) You non-believer friends are not good enough to get into Heaven, and we're good enough to take care of your dog? First of all, fuck you, buddy. We don't want to take care of your damn pets. We're going to be too busy going to pansexual orgies and gay-marrying aborted fetuses to give a shit about feeding Fido.

2) Second-of-ly, you're going to trust non-believers with your pets? Don't forget; we're godless heathens. Chances are, we're going to be bringing them along to said pansexual orgies.

3) Also, why don't animals get raptured? Are there no dog parks in Heaven? No Lolcats? If you ask us, that doesn't sound like Heaven at all. And wait a second, Pios Pam; you mean to tell us that you never baptized your goldfish? (He's already in water; you're halfway there.) And you never married the dog and the cat. Have they been living together in sin this whole time? If you ask us, thinking you're a lock Rapture roster seems a little presumptuous.

No, Mr. Boots, no you can't.

By now, you're probably wondering how someone managed to cook up an idea like After the Rapture Pet Care. A quick read of ARPC's website explains the origins of this fantastic idea:

"In the fall of 2009, a non-believer friend of mine named Carol brought up a question: 'Hey, if you get raptured, what happens to Petey?' It was an excellent question, and I didn't have an answer. [...] A couple weeks later Carol came back and suggested we start After The Rapture Pet Care together. She said she had asked several Christian friends the same question she'd asked me, and every one of them would pay for a service to ensure the care of their pets after the Rapture. I had also asked some fellow Christians their thoughts. In every case they wished there was a way to prepare for their pets' survival."

We know what you're thinking, "This is a scam, right?" Probably. But if you ask us, Non-believer Carol is a fucking genius who's figured out how to fleece all of her dumbass Christian friends out of $9.95 a month. Brilliant! And here's the best part: even the believers acknowledge that the Rapture might never happen in their lifetime. And they're still willing to pay. Here's the even better part: if your pet dies, you don't get any money back. And they're still willing to pay.

So basically, these people are suckers on multiple levels. They spend their whole lives believing (and hoping) that at some point Jesus is going to wiggle his nose like Samantha Stephens, and they'll be beamed up to that big Church social in the sky. And then, they shell out 10 bucks a month to make sure their pet is cared for when they go? These are probably the same people who actually held Windows 7 launch parties. It's just sad, really.

Why can't someone rapture these lame-asses?

To be fair, Catholics don't buy into the Rapture thing. They have their own convoluted end of the world scenario. True to Catholic form, it involves being judged, persecuting the Jews, and fighting a war for 1,000 years. (If it ain't broke...)

Apparently, the notion of being called up to Heaven in a flash is a little too kooky for the Caths. And yet, meanwhile magical cannibalism makes perfect sense. This raises another interesting doctrinal question: if the Eucharist is technically human flesh, can you eat it on Fridays during Lent? (And what about all the vegetarian Catholics?) ...Questions for another post, we suppose.

Still, we're inspired by this business model. How can we get us some of that some of that sweet, sweet Christian cash? Maybe, we can provide a service where we get paid to update believers' Facebook pages.

That'll be $9.95, please.

Next week: We go fishing with the Catholic Church. ...TPC.

PHOTOFLASH :: Joe Biden Shows Some Ash...

Civil Rights groups lashed out at Vice-President Biden for his tasteless appearance in blackface during a press conference Wednesday. ...TPC.

Winter Musings from Spider: Snowmageddon...

(Click to enlarge.)

PHOTOFLASH :: The Bush Billboard...

So there's a real billboard of George W. Bush in Wyoming, MN that says, "Miss me yet?" We like ours better. ...TPC.

Bikini Waxing: We Try to Get Excited for the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue...

The Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue comes out this week, and it's got us kind of nostalgic. Get our analysis after the jump. (Apologies in advance to all female TPC staff and any other females about to read this.)

Remember, the days before Internet porn when staring at a magazine full of women in bikinis actually used to get us off? We remember scoring a copy back in like eighth grade with Tyra Banks on the cover.

Tyra Banks as a sexual object? How antiquated is that notion? Believe it or not, children, there was a time not so long ago called the "1990s" when Tyra wasn't a comically self-absorbed, batshit crazy talk show host. It's true; she was actually hot, and did shoe commercials with something called a "Lil' Penny."

An athlete's greatest shame is when his ad campaign outlives his career. (Watch out, Kobe.)

Simpler times, we suppose. Now, we're just desensitized. In a Post-"2 Girls, 1 Cup" world (no link provided; Google it yourself, pervert) the Swimsuit Issue looks like a charity calendar for the Sisters of St. Joseph. Bikinis? Only partially-exposed breasts? No DPDA? It's just quaint, really.

That being said; kudos to Andy Roddick for marrying 22-year-old model Brooklyn Decker. Way to lock that down, brother. If you can't beat Federer on the court, at least you got the hotter girl. Seriously, someone should tell Mrs. Swiss Miss to lay off the chocolates. She looks like Ann Veal from Arrested Development.

Her?

It's (Still) the Economy, Cupid: 4 More Tips for a Recession-Friendly Valentine's Day...

So Sunday is Valentine’s Day, and if possible, we care less about it this year than we did last year. We’ve never been big fans of manufactured holidays – Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, Earth Day – they’re all just ploys to make you waste money on useless junk; conspicuous consumption under the guise of schmaltzy sentimentality. (Suck it, Al Gore; what the hell are we supposed to do with all these "Save the Planet 2009" polyethylene bags?)

Nonetheless, some of you people out there (women) still buy into this cheese. But let’s face it, ladies, times are tight. In this economy, diamonds, roses and Coldplay tickets just aren’t in the budget. (And besides, your guy hates Coldplay.) That being said, doing nothing is not an option, either (unless, your New Year’s resolution was to no get laid this year). So here's another round of tips to help you have a recession-friendly Valentine’s Day after the jump.

1) Dinner & a Show (at home). It’s a Valentine’s Day staple, but why deal with the hassle of crowded restaurants and pricey movie tickets? Stay home, and dazzle your dame domestically. It’s a proven fact that girls love a guy who can cook (based on our extensive research, at least). Make something simple – pasta, pizza, a stir-fry – there’s no need to try a new recipe or show off (the fact that you can even boil water will probably impress her right out of those).

After dinner, head for the couch, and let Jim and Pam do the rest. Get some Office DVDs and you’re on autopilot. We know we suggested this last year, but we're bringing it up again because it really works. Just pop in a disc and trust us. Once you get that thing in there, you won't be disappointed.

"That's what she said."

2) Make a Mix CD. Nothing is sweeter than giving her a mix of songs that remind you of her. But burner beware: an improperly vetted playlist can have unintentional and potentially disastrous consequences. Make sure your mix conveys the right message (e.g. "Happy Valentine's Day — be my fuck buddy"). One misplaced Ray LaMontagne song can propel your relationship status into “serious” territory faster than you can say “I just wanna be friends.”

Pictured: the right message.

Our advice: keep it light. Don’t forget to keep a good balance of the familiar and the obscure. A mix that reads like a commercial radio playlist is impersonal, lazy, and tell her what a lame-ass you are (newsflash, bro: nobody likes Nickleback except for you). Likewise, keep the Sufjan Stevens and Animal Collective to a minimum (or, better yet, lose the AnCo altogether.)

3) Go Dutch. So your special lady friend wasn’t thrilled with your offer to cook a romantic dinner at home. She sees right through your thrifty ways, and isn’t letting you off the hook that easy. It’s V-Day, and she’s gonna make sure you do it right even if it bankrupts your unemployed ass. Wow, your friends were right about her. (Seriously, we’ve all been talking about her for a while now.) What kind of an unappreciative pain in the ass would thumb her nose at your grandma’s marinara and a bottle of Chianti? (FYI, we also heard that she doesn’t even like The Office.)

Well, if this isn’t your wake up call to finally ditch this diva (see Tip #4), then it looks like you’re hitting the town. Tough break, guy. Dining out Valentine’s Day is definitely not recession-friendly. If you don’t break the bank on the meal, you’ll surely get sunk with all the add-ons – the flowers, the gifts, more gifts (we're guessing that materialistic harpy won't let you off the hook with just one).

But don’t worry; in these modern times of gender equality and women's rights and such, it’s perfectly acceptable for you to split the bill on dinner. In some cultures, it’s even encouraged (the Dutch, for example). When the server drops the check, just throw down your card, shoot her an expectant look, and give her some line about money being tight – you know, really guilt her into it. (Hopefully, it will go better than the last time you tried to guilt her into something.)

"Come on, babe...it' my birthday."

And don’t get nit-picky about whose meal cost more or who had more to drink, though. You’re already skirting the line of proper relationship protocol by going Dutch on Valentine’s Day, making her pay for that second glass of Pinot is just gauche.

4. Break Up with Her. It doesn’t get much more inexpensive than this. To be sure, there are some consequences to consider (the aforementioned not-getting-laid factor being chief among them). Though, if she’s anything like the winning lady we described in Tip #3, cutting her loose might be long overdue. And chances are, she dropped your cheap ass after that whole “going Dutch” thing. (What were you thinking?)

Personally, we’ve never been good relationship-enders. They tend to end up like the milk you leave in the refrigerator too long – neglected long after its expatriation date until you’re finally forced to do something about it, and by that point it’s just sour, unpleasant and smelly. (Though, we’ve found that sometimes if you leave it long enough, the milk turns into cheese, which is good again, but sometimes smelly, and a man can't love a piece of cheese. Though, with all those holes...)

Sorry, this metaphor got away from us somewhere.

But winter is long in the end, and that Snuggie she bought you for Christmas is going to feel mighty lonely without her. Maybe, you should just stick it out. She’s not that bad, right? (BTW, she also hated you mix CD.)

Sure, money is tight, but this is America; and not spending your money irresponsibly is like telling America you don’t love her. So pull out that Visa, buy the roses, hit the town, and show both girls some love by going even deeper into crippling debt. Happy Valentine's Day!

Palm Pilot: Sarah Palin Takes Notes at the Tea Party Convention...

This weekend, Sarah Palin gave the Tea Party Movement a collective by boner by delivering a speech at their unwittingly co-opted convention in Nashville. During her speech and the ensuing Q&A, many observers noticed a series of notes scribbled on the palm of the former-governor's hand. (Check out our slide-show to what else she was jotting down.)

So in a speech where she criticized President Obama's dependency on teleprompters, she actually had the balls to bring crib notes? Sure, why not? Recently, Palin has had no problem rocking the double standard. To wit, check out her awkward justification of Limbaugh's use of the word "retard" just days after she called for White House Chief of Staff Rahm Emanuel's resignation for using the same word. You're a real piece of work, Sarah.