Author Richard Cahill's Website--Living By Our Motto:"There Are No Stupid Questions, Just Stupid People Asking Questions Everybody else already knows the answer to."

The Ark Encounter, a gigantic replica of Noah’s original world-saving watercraft, has not been an economic boom to the impoverished Kentucky county it is located in, as county residents had anticipated. While Ken Ham claims that the Ark is hitting its attendance target, local merchants are sniffing that the visitors are “a bunch of Christian cheapasses,” who are failing to line their pockets with the manna of moolah.
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Certainly, the type of person who likes to look at pairs of caged plastic animals all day, while reflecting that his or her belief system requires them to think that all of humanity is descended from a small, Middle Eastern family who spent 40 days and 40 nights at sea with a menagerie of grunting, stinking, shitting creatures, may not be so quick to buy six-dollar cotton candy or spend a dime at the Bible-inspired Mall of Jericho.

Clearly, if you look at any town that has prospered from hosting a major tourist attraction or two, like Anaheim or Orlando, the main difference between them and the Kentucky back country* is that their theme parks offer rides. And rides mean kids. And kids mean Mom and Dad spending money.  What the Ark needs is a back lot full of Biblically inspired rides. Here’s few ideas:

FALLEN ANGEL ZIP RIDE: Experience the original free fall, of Lucifer getting the boot from Heaven. Feel your underwear flapping all the way to Hell, as you zip from painted clouds above to singing, stabbing animatronic imps below. Height and weight restrictions apply.

HOW LONG CAN YOU TREAD WATER? Not for forty days and nights, that’s for sure, but you can give it a shot in our all deep-end wave ride. Feel what the people of Noah’s day felt when God got sick of their sinful shit. No flotation devices allowed.

FLAT EARTH TEACUPS: Sit in one of these and crank the wheel, and you soon see that the if the Earth was really a spinning ball shooting through space you would be constantly upchucking your lunch, just like you will when this ride is over.

BIBLE THUMPER BUMPER CARS: Being a good Christian means constantly trying to control your sinful impulses. Murder is out, and so is masturbation. There’s nothing like a bumper car ride to harmlessly channel built-up anger or sexual frustration. Bang unto others like others bang unto you. For extra fun, pretend all the other cars are being driven by atheists and Jews. But they’re probably not.

GARDEN OF EDEN JUNGLE CRUISE: Float effortlessly through Paradise, drinking from bubbling Slushie springs and plucking Twinkies from trees, in this genuine reproduction of the world before Adam sinned. But watch out for the snake!

RED SEA CAN’T GET ME! Are you a Moses or a Pharaoh follower? Find out as you dash through a tunnel surrounded by crashing waves. Better make it to the other end before a wall of water flushes you and your chariot away.

That ought to do it for now. Even if the Arksters can’t start construction right away, they should hang up signs saying “Coming in 2018, unless the Rapture comes first,” and believers will be thronging the gates as soon as spring comes to Kentucky.

*We were just kidding about the only difference between Orlando and Anaheim and Kentucky were that the first two had parks with rides. Orlando and Anaheim also have Asians, Mexicans, gay people and foreigners, which you don’t get in Kentucky. And people with dental plans. You don’t see all that many people chewing tobacco, either. And spring starts in March instead of May. We could go on, but you get the picture.

Now that we’ve survived the first month of the Administration of Agent Orange*, some of us are preparing for four years of resistance, including MILF pop princess Madonna, who celebrated the Inauguration by channeling her inner Ted Nugent in DC.

Some of us though, resigned that there is going to be nothing that makes us politically satisfied for at least four years, are vowing to turn away from political strife and immerse ourselves in other, life-enhancing practices. For those people, there are two newly-offered obsessions—beer yoga and smell porn.

​Beer yoga is not what I first thought it was, which would be drinking beer and watching women who are far too young to sensibly consider me as a sexual partner do yoga.

No, beer yoga actually consists of incorporating a bottle of beer into classic yoga moves, as you can see by the pic. The half-boat posture becomes the half-loaded posture, the Cobra position now incorporates a 40-ouncer of the classic malt liquor King Cobra. You get the picture.

Ordinarily, I don’t think of myself as stretchy, flexible and coordinated enough to do yoga. The danger for me, if I took up this new fad, is that I might consider myself to possess those qualities if I drank enough beer. I could end up a twisted, helpless, intoxicated heap on my mat. If that happens, stay calm and please administer more beer.

Smell porn I am not likely to indulge in either, because it requires the purchase of equipment and supplies and I, like every natural cheap American, currently spend zero money on porn. You need to buy something resembling a gas mask and odor packets to load it up with, then hook up online with a “cam girl,” like smell porn advocate Victoria Ryan, also pictured above. Victoria, in addition to twisting herself into every position and performing any act you desire to watch her attempt, will release the odors she calculates will arouse you the most. These odors, according to my source article, include “licorice and donuts.”

Yep, Krispy Kremes and chewy candy make you horny. It’s safe to admit that, now.

Odors of urine and feces will not be available in smell porn, at least for the rollout. Just when everyone was eager to take a golden shower, too.

Other porn pioneers scorn the new technology. They are advocates for artificially intelligent sex dolls,** or at least robot hands that will tirelessly stroke you for years at a time. Maybe even four years at a time.
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Oh, boy. Now we’re back to politics. 

*The GRU's favorite nickname for Trump
**This link goes to Breitbart, which shows you what kind of people are looking for sex dolls.

A “prayer shield,” an impenetrable theological umbrella erected by hordes of “prayer warriors,” over the person and actions of Donald Trump has been in place since before his inauguration, to no observable effect. The constant clamoring of sincere believers in the ears of God has not kept his administration from coming off as an astonishing clusterfuck. There are several possibilities for this, the first being that God is just laughing off any prayers, no matter how heartfelt, on behalf of any preening ignoramuses who live to cheat their friends, lie about their enemies and brag on fingering unwilling vagina.

Don't dismiss this possibility. When confronted by supplications regarding Trump, God just might splutter and say, “Oh, for My sake!” or “Jesus Christ, can you believe this?”

And after Jesus replies “Oh Me, fuck no,” they both go back to adjusting the galaxies, leaving Trump on his own to search Craigslist for people willing to be his National Security Advisor.
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Another possibility is that prayer has no effect on any course of events at all. Many people disagree with this. I found that out the hard way, by posting this on Facebook:

This is a rotten thing to say, although fairly typical for an apathetic agnostic with a mild hangover. While my position had its supporters, many people argued for the efficacy of prayer in the comments, and still more thought that it was extremely tasteless of me to crack wise about cancer. I reject this latter argument, because if God did not think cancer was funny, why did He invent it in the first place?

The third possibility is that a prayer needs to be constructed to specifically address the problems of the President. Instead of throwing up a prayer shield consisting of random Hail Mary’s or Glory Be’s, the rampart of supplications to Heaven needs to detail out a to-do list for the Almighty concerning Trump. Here’s a possible example:

Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be the name of Trump. May Trump’s kingdom come, in America as well as Russia, Scotland, Dubai, Uruguay or any other place where Donald owns a hotel or golf course. May his will be done, in the Senate, the House of Representatives, the Supreme Court and Mar el Largo. Give him this day a secret loan from the Kremlin and a sweetheart licensing deal in China and forgive those who fact-check him, for they are fake news. For Trump’s is the kingdom, the power and the pussy, forever and ever, Amen.

There, that ought to do it. Can I get a thousand likes?

Kellyanne Conway called me yesterday. I was surprised to hear from her, but she quickly explained that no one else in the media is willing to talk to her anymore. “Screw CNN and MSNBC,” she said. “Their insistence on me being honest with them is the epitome of fake news.”

I’m not following that exactly, Kellyanne, but everything published here is fake, so you’re always welcome. It’s been a tough week for the Trump Administration, what with Michael Flynn being forced to resign.

“Wasn’t that a bitch? I told Michael to keep his mouth shut around Mike Pence ever since I overheard him muttering to himself ‘President Pence—doesn’t that just roll of the tongue?’ in the Situation Room loo, but Flynn’s always been a blabbermouth. He was just planning to exchange recipes for Christmas cookies when he put that call into the Russians--Michael makes a mean batch of Christmas cookies, you know--but they got to yacking about sanctions instead. The National Security Advisor needs to know when to keep his mouth shut. Just like those traitorous leakers over at the CIA and FBI.”

You mean the ones that are saying that Trump is tighter with the Russians than a pair of yoga pants on Mama June?

“Exactly. They should report that to Trump, not the Washington Post. And the President is not cool with the security briefings he’s been getting from America’s spies.”

I heard that the CIA doesn’t share all its info with Trump because they’re afraid it goes right to the Kremlin.

“Well, they better not say that out loud, but yeah, we suspect it. I mean, you expect more out of a top secret intelligence briefing than the spy guy saying ‘Totally globally cool,‘ or ‘Everything is okey-dokey, artichokee,’ which is what we’ve been getting. And we specifically asked for a world map with all the nations marked as ‘good,’ ‘bad,’ or ‘Who gives a crap?’ weeks ago, so we could proceed with international diplomacy.”

And they wouldn’t give you one?

“Sure, but it was wrong. Mexico was marked as good and Russia was down as bad, and Uruguay as ‘who gives a crap?’ so we sent it back.”

Who does give a crap about Uruguay?

“The President, because he has a golf course there. The CIA is completely indifferent to the problems of golf-course-owning Americans is what Donald Trump has found, which is another reason why he doesn’t trust them bigly.”

I don’t know how the US is going to deal with threats around the world if the President doesn’t get any info from the CIA.

“Oh, we’ll be fine. Steve Bannon has a big globe in his office. If we have to act, he just spins it and puts a cigarette out on it. Wherever the scorch mark is, we send American troops. Any other questions?”

Yeah, what did you tell Mike Pence when he discovered you in the men’s room with him?
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“He was worried I was transgendered, because if I was, it would be against his Christian faith to pee next to me. I told him to chill out—I was just using the alternative ladies room.”

The mainstream media keeps making a fuss about things President Trump keeps saying he believes, things that are obviously not true, like millions of illegals voting for Hillary Clinton and that the US murder rate is at its highest ever.

Possibly, if you’re part of Trump’s inner circle, you’re worried that the most powerful man in the world doesn’t have much of a grip on reality, but you can have fun with it, too. Here are the top ten yarns spun to Trump by his confidantes just for the lulz:
 
IVANKA TRUMP: Claimed she invented yoga pants but somehow got screwed out of the patent. Needs to sue somebody, soon.

SEAN SPICER: Confided that Melissa McCarthy once approached him and said she was DTF. He turned her down and that’s why she’s such an a-hole to him.

MIKE PENCE: Said that he has x-ray vision like Superman, but doesn’t use it to look under people’s clothes because of his Christian faith.

MELANIA: Insists he’s Barron’s real father.

IVANA TRUMP: Both his sons are so ugly because he forced sex on her while she was pregnant.

BETSY DEVOS: All winter she sleeps under the hide of a grizzly bear that she killed herself, using  a #2 pencil.

JARED KUSHNER: Told his father-in-law that because he is President, Mexico already pays for all of his dry cleaning and car washes.

STEVE BANNON: Says the ghost of Abraham Lincoln appeared to him one night when he woke up at his West Wing desk with his face in the ashtray and an empty whiskey bottle in his hand, and told him the Emancipation Proclamation was “a huge misunderstanding.”

REINCE PRIEBUS: Pretended the “nuclear football” was actually a football, and gave Trump an NFL regulation one with “Nuclear” printed on it to keep on his person at all times. Constantly invites him out to the White House lawn to “toss it around.”

PAUL RYAN: Claimed in confidence that the House of Representatives has the statutory power to repossess all the big screen TV’s in the White House to pay for Social Security.

VLADIMIR PUTIN: “I deleted all those videos.”

The Trump Administration’s release of 78 terror incidents which it claims were underreported by the media has been widely criticized, both for containing incidents that the media dwelled on for weeks, such as the San Bernardino massacre, and for containing incidents that were not terrorist at all, such as the stalker killing of a tourist woman in Australia.

Some incidents were left off the list entirely, believe it or not, and both the Trump White House and, naturally, the LYING MAINSTREAM MEDIA, ignored them. In an act of journalistic vigilance, this column will offer the known details in all ten of these unreported assaults on our way of life. All were committed by known or suspected Muslims. They are ranked in ascending order of offensiveness:

1. Emir Abbasi, green card holder, fails to give correct change while working as cashier at mini-mart. Dayton Ohio, January 17, 2014.
2. Uber driver Ali Fakroun, legal resident, abruptly told his three teenage passengers to “shut up, please,” because they were continuously talking about Justin Bieber. March 2, 2015
3. Nativity scene on church lawn knocked over during snowstorm by unknown man riding a bicycle and wearing a Muslim skullcap. While the man did place the figurines upright again before vanishing, both the sheep and one of the Wise Men were set facing the street instead of the manger. Clear persecution of Christians. White Plains, New York. December 11, 2015
4. Swarthy man set Patriots jersey on fire in street in Amherst, Massachusetts, while yelling "Tom Brady is homosexual!" in non-native accent. February 6, 2014. Fled scene before visa status could be determined.
5. Express Gas station co-owner Assoud al Libi, in spite of having recently attained US citizenship, told native-born American customer who was mocking his pronunciation of English that he could go buy his gas somewhere else. Did not even, as was al LIbi's usual habit, address the victim as “Boss.” Tampa Bay, July 12, 2013
6. Omar Zeidan, green card holder and manager of a 99 Cent Store in Little Rock Arkansas, when asked when the store was going to start carrying 99 cent Confederate flags again, said “Never, because they’re racist.” Which was none of his business.  May 23, 2011.
7. Unknown man in turban combed his beard on bus in full view of white children, then escaped into a mosque. Kennett Square, PA, October 11, 2016.
8. Pakistani landscaper and work permittee Abrahim Ansari, when told to mow church lawn in a cool alternating pattern like a major-league baseball field, just mowed it the regular way, in another blatant attack on the Christian religion. Sherman Oaks, California, April 12, 2016.
9. After being rear-ended by a normal white American at a stop light, legal visa holder Salem Abu Bakr jumped out of his car and shouted “Show me proof of insurance, you son of a bitch!” Sparks, Nevada, September 1, 2013.
10. At a Muslim wedding party held on a rooftop in Hoboken, New Jersey, in full view of downtown Manhattan, guests were seen wildly celebrating just 12 years, two months and four days after 9-11.  November 15, 2013.

In a completely unexpected political development, a Terminator from the future walked into the Oval Office and assassinated President Donald Trump, just as the President was composing Twitter attacks on Mahatma Gandhi, because he was under the impression that Gandhi was still alive, and the "so-called" Girl Scouts, because there was a broken cookie in a box they sold him. Afterwards the Terminator held a brief press conference in the Rose Garden before dematerializing back to his own century. Here is the unedited transcript of that press conference:

(Shouts from every corner) Mr. Terminator! Mr. Terminator!

THE TERMINATOR: Yes, the gentleman from the Washington Post.

REPORTER FROM THE POST:  Sir, no doubt many people all over the world are thankful for what you have done. Don’t you think, however, that by interfering with the past you may change the future you live in in unknowable ways?

THE TERMINATOR: You mean I would cease to exist? (holds up a massive forearm composed of insanely advanced metal alloys) Am I starting to look transparent to you? (Laughs) Don't worry about all of that temporal paradox, Back to the Future crap. All of our history books tell us that a Terminator from the future appeared one day and assassinated Trump. It has been an ongoing project for the United States of the Future, lasting years and costing billions of digital dollars, to develop both time travel and Terminators, so that one day I could come here and kill Trump before he could screw things up really royally. Yes? The lady from CNN?

CORRESPONDENT FROM CNN: Did you meet any resistance?

THE TERMINATOR: Not much. The Secret Service force present, while all sworn to take a bullet for Trump, decided that resisting an invincible Terminator from the future was not covered by their oaths of service. Steve Bannon pooped his pants explosively when he saw me, if you want to call that resistance. A short video of that incident is available on Twitter under #STEVEBANNONNOTFULLOFSHITANYMORE. Kellyanne Conway escaped by quickly drawing a pentagram inside a circle on the White House floor and disappearing through it in a puff of sulfur. The New York Times has a question?

REPORTER FROM THE NEW YORK TIMES: Do you have other targets to assassinate while you’re in this century?

THE TERMINATOR: It will not be necessary. Mike Pence will be remembered as being one of the most open-minded and fair Presidents ever, because he also saw me kill Trump swiftly and mercilessly. That gave him a whole new attitude right quick. Other people who know they deserve to be Terminated will get the message. Vladimir Putin has messed up his last foreign election and bombed his last hospital. Mitch McConnell will resign his Senate seat and be replaced by Garth Brooks. Paul Ryan will enter the priesthood. Kanye West, Judge Jeannie and Bill Belichick will all drop out of sight. Yes? FOX News?

CORRESPONDENT FROM FOX NEWS: Can you tell us what the future is like?
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THE TERMINATOR: Well, we haven’t had FOX News for a couple hundred years (The garden explodes with cheers and laughter), so that’s a good thing. I was told not to be too specific if I was asked this question, so I’ll just say everything in the future is cool and nice. And it’s all because of people in this century. Because now that you know that the future has Terminators, you’re going to be a lot more careful about it.

Robert Lanza, a scientist, has recently published a book that claims that quantum physics proves that there is an eternal life.

Other quantum physicians say it doesn’t prove any such thing, but let’s take a look at Lanza’s theory anyway. Lanza believes that people believe in death because they identify with their bodies. People do this for sure. It’s an easy mistake to make, as anybody who has ever bought clothes or needed to urinate during a long subway ride knows.

It’s Lanza’s opinion, however, that when we choke out our last breath, we pop over to a parallel universe and just keep on trucking, so to speak.

How quantum physics proves this is difficult to explain because, like religion, very few people really understand it. While religion is usually based on scriptures written by ancient prophets and translated from dead languages, quantum physics is based on math equations that look like someone spilled half a box of Alpha-Bits on the floor. In either case, we lay people have to go to the experts for an explanation, which leaves plenty of room for professional scientists or preachers to put their own spin on things. Thus, we end up believing in stuff like the Virgin Mary and Schrodinger’s cat without really understanding how either one is possible.

Lanza’s afterlife is pretty sketchy, because, unlike religion, quantum physics did not exist during the Middle Ages, so no one painted any pictures of it. For sure it’s not a bunch of angels standing around hosanna-ing, so better than some theoretical eternal lives, which are basically one long, continuous religious service. For someone like myself, who thinks that all religious services that don’t actually include human sacrifice are mind-numbingly dull, this is good news. But Lanza doesn’t promise us the kind of eternal existence I could get behind, where everybody is sexy and wanton and there’s a lively nightclub scene, and you can hang with your dead relatives or avoid them, depending on whether you liked them much when they were here.

There’s no guarantee the parallel universe we go to is going to be better than this one. You could end up in one where Trump is President for Life, Kate Upton never posed for pictures and canned asparagus is served at every meal. That would be like Hell, only you wouldn’t have to keep it that warm. Lanza is not clear on whether you could check out of there by killing yourself again, while crossing your fingers, to go to a universe where Obama could have a third term, Kate Upton was your main squeeze and all food served was wrapped in bacon.

Everybody goes, too. There is no place of eternal damnation, so Hitler, Mao and Dick Cheney could be your neighbors in the afterlife, drinking, barbecuing and lying as if they were car salesmen rather than mass murderers. Hopefully you’ll have the option of killing them off again as soon as they appear, thus packing them off to the parallel dimension one stop over.

There’s nothing you can do to influence your quantum afterlife, either. Kneeling, praying and chilling with lepers does you no good; you go to the exact same spot as someone who’s spent his life downloading porn.

But it’s good to know that there’s something beyond the grave, I guess, even if it’s as random and pointless as our current existence, and the fact that the concept is being promoted by someone who is hoping to make a lot of money by selling a book about it doesn’t necessarily have to shake our faith. The only thing we can say for certain about Quantum Heaven is that Schrodinger is already there.
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And so’s his cat. 

Illustration by Marck Juarez
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