Question #40: Steve's Favourite Biblical Passage

DJ's Question: Dear Steve, What is your favorite bible story?

Current mood: Soggy

Well, DJ, I'd have to say that my favourite passage comes from a lesser known version of the New Testament called Randy Wilminghare's Illustrated Bible and SAT Prep Guide.

The following passage was taken from the chapter titled "The Lost Words of Jesus: The Secret Knowledge of Produce"

"And Jesus said unto them, 'Do not condemn the carrots for doing yoga. For it is only when carrots do yoga that thou can truly know the power of the lord.'" - Randy (huffing experiment 32:18)

Thanks for your question DJ !

Please email your questions to stevetheraven@tds.net

Steve Interviews Breatharian Shoshana-Nirvana Melontwig

Current mood: hungry

After hearing about a spiritual practice known as Breatharianism about a month ago, I've been on a quest to find out more. Breatharians believe they can attain physical immortality by shunning food and drink and feasting instead on a diet of the sun's energy. In this month's Steve the Raven Interviews Dead People, I speak with Breatharian Shoshana-Nirvana Melontwig.

Steve the Raven: So Miss Melontwig, am I to understand that you're a practicing Breatharian?

Shoshana-Nirvana Melontwig: Why yes, I am. I live off the beautiful and loving life force of Grandfather Sun. We're all the sun's children.

STR: So you eat the sun?

S-NM: No, silly! I I'm a sun gazer. I stare directly at the sun and let him fill me with his loving bounty.

STR: Do solar flares cause indigestion?

S-NM: The sun doesn't have any hair, you silly bird!

STR: Right.

STR: How long have you been a practicing Breatharian?

S-NM: I've been weaning myself off food and water for the last several months, but the last time I ate food was about a month ago.

STR: How's that going for you?

S-NM: Beautifully! I feel so much lighter and peaceful and full of energy. But it wasn't easy. The first several weeks were very, very hard. I felt so faint and weak. Everything was just spinning and spinning. I got to the point where I couldn't do anything or even leave my bed. And then in one glorious moment it happened . . . I ascended into Christ consciousness.

STR: I think you're referring to the moment when you died?

S-NM: No, I'm not dead. I'm an immortal flower floating in a sea of crystalline consciousness.

STR: That’s very poetic, but you're still dead.

S-NM: In breatharianism there's no need for physical death.

STR: If you were alive, would I be able to do this? (Steve flies right through Shoshana-Nirvana’s spirit body)

S-NM: Ooh, that felt whooshy! My life . . . my existence . . . it's so unusual now. Enlightenment takes getting used to.

STR: So does being dead.

S-NM: If I didn’t know better I’d say there’s a certain someone who’s a little jealous of my enlightenment! (Shoshanna smiles and winks at Steve)

STR: If you were really enlightened, you’d know you were dead.

S-NM: I smell envy!

STR: You got me there. I strive to be as oblivious and one-dimensional as you are. One final question, Miss Melontwig. What advice do you have for my readers . . . the people who, unlike you, are not dead?

S-NM: My advice is to create a safe space to lovingly hold your flowing essence so that you can meld your entire beingness with the star people – our beloved brothers and sisters of light who are watching over us - the Pleiadians, the Syrians, and the Unitarians. Remember to surround yourself with transport crystals and juniper berries and the loving light of all that is so that you too can attain enlightenment and together we can ascend to the seventh dimension of existence where everyone is blanketed in pink light and cherry lip gloss. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?!!

STR: I have no idea what you just said.

S-NM: Maybe some day when you reach enlightenment you’ll understand!

STR: Christ, I hope not. Thank you Shoshanna-Nirvana for taking the time to speak with me and for educating all of us on the fucked up practice known as Breatharianism.

Did this interview whet your appetite? Would YOU like to learn how to become a Breatharian? For only $10,000 you can learn the secrets of physical immortality including how to completely eliminate annoying grocery bills from the revered master himself, the creator of the Breatharian Institute of America, Wiley Brooks. Wiley claims to be the reincarnation of Adam, Zeus, Jesus, John the Baptist, Joseph Smith and others. Wiley's soul history is a veritable who's who of fictional characters (including his bonus past life as Joseph Smith, the creator of the fictional religion Mormonism)! 

Sign up for Wiley's 'Immortality Workshop' at http://breatharian.com/ before it's too late!

Question #39: How to get your dog to stop eating poop

Hamhock's question: Hi Steve, My Black Lab Rocky insists on eating his poop. I've tried everything to get him to stop. Do you have any advice? thanks. H

Current mood: splendid

Great question, Hamhock!

Here are some products I recommend:

Poop-O-Tine Patches: These slow-release patches provide your dog with that 'just ate shit' feeling for up to 12 hours! (Side effects may include fur loss, coprophagy, weight gain, cerebral palsy, opiate addiction, restless leg syndrome, bleeding gums, gas, panic attacks, sleeplessness, weight loss, suicidal thoughts and paranoia.)

NoDung Chewing Gum (formerly known as Fecalrette): Tastes like real imitation dog shit!

Fecaltine Lozenges: Each lozenge contains approximately one thousand dog-hating parasites armed with tiny spears. So the next time Rocky makes himself a snack . . . watch out !
Now in two flavors - Vomit and Road Kill

Good luck Hamhock . . . and thanks for your question !

Please send your questions to stevetheraven@tds.net

Question #38: Steve's Biggest Pet Peeve

J8N's question: What's your biggest pet peeve Steve the Raven?

Current mood: cockled

I'm afraid that's one of the easiest questions I'll ever answer J8N. Hands down, my biggest pet peeve is littering. And I'm not the only Corvid who feels this way. In fact, the reason you'll see groups of us huddled on the side of the road picking at garbage is because we're cleaning up after you (while at the same time feasting on a nourishing Burger King snack). Littering is the ultimate in disrespect and should be punishable by death.

I realize, though, that not all of you are guilty of this unforgiveable crime. The type of litter we typically find speaks volumes about who's responsible (e.g., cigarette butts, empty cigarette packs, big gulp containers, piss-water brand beer cans/bottles [brewed with genuine beer extract], wrappers from fast food restaurants, losing scratch off instant lottery tickets, etc). You get the picture. I now have a deeper understanding of why this particular group is referred to as White Trash.

Cue Rant: What the fuck is SO TERRIBLY impossible about keeping your ridiculous trash inside your ridiculous 1996 'Support Our Troops/Dale Earnhardt' stamped Chevy-piece-of-shit-Cavalier? Because I'm sure the inside of your car is Martha Stewart clean. Or maybe you're trying to make a good impression for your big television debut when TLC's "Hoarders: Buried Alive" tapes at your double wide next week?

Fucking red necks.

Steve Found Jesus !

Current mood: Cuban

That's right folks, I found Jesus. Grab your bible and a snack. I have a story to tell.

I thought it would be fun to interview everyone's favourite messiah for this month's edition of Steve the Raven Interviews Dead People. You know, get up close and personal with the son of god and ask him a few poignant questions.

Finding the guy wasn't easy. Turns out I was looking in the wrong corner of the spirit world. I was looking in the upper realms where highly evolved spirits hang out. Silly me. When I started asking around I was pointed in an entirely different direction. 'Heaven.' I discovered, is the spiritual equivalent of Las Vegas. Located in the dense nether regions of the spirit world, I'm now convinced that the Christian heaven is Walt Disney's wet dream.

As I approached 'heaven' I saw a bright white light in the distance. When I got closer I realized that the bright light was actually coming from the legendary pearly gates, which were embedded with what had to be several million rhinestones (I saw no pearls) that shone and sparkled so intensely that one glance rendered you instantly stupid. I like shiny things, but this was disturbing.

Inside the gate I heard the welcoming sound of terrible, terrible music. I squinted my eyes and saw an overly enthusiastic Liberaci wearing a rhinestone suit playing empty music on a rhinestone encrusted piano. Holy shit, indeed.

I flew down a sparkling golden path past meticulously manicured gardens that were lined with marble statues of all the popes. I swear they were watching me. Fucking creepy.

Up ahead were the spirits of about ten deceased people chatting away excitedly. They were eating bright pink cotton candy and wearing Grecian-style white tunics. I asked them where I could find Jesus. They all turned to me and one of them said: "The good lord will be appearing at Caesar's Palace tonight!" Another added, "And Elvis is opening for him!" This statement was met with a series of high-pitched squeals and hopping. And then I said, "Get the fuck out." They looked wounded.

I found Caesar's Palace and made my way inside. The place was packed with a trillion Stepford Christians. Elvis came on (he looked like skinny Elvis but performed like fat, drug addicted Elvis) and everyone screamed and cheered, "God bless you Elvis!" "God loves you Elvis!" I don't know what those people were listening to because I thought Elvis sucked balls.

And finally, the moment I'd been waiting for . . .

The lights in the huge auditorium went down and the place was filled with the sound of trumpets. A flood of spotlights illuminated the domed ceiling exposing about 50 pasty looking androgynous cherubic angel-types floating above everyone's heads. Think: 'Cirque du Soleil' meets 'Up With People' meets 'Deliverance.' They sang the same saccharine-drenched phrase over and over again, "Hosanna in the Highest! Hosanna in the Highest!" The nightmarish images and sounds have forever stained my essence.

A single spotlight shone on the heavy red velvet curtains on stage. The room became completely silent. Eerily silent. Slowly the curtain opened revealing the emblazed figure of our blonde haired blue eyed hero. He was so bright I could barely make out his features. And then he spoke. With a deep booming voice that filled the auditorium, he said, "Bless you, my children."

Hey, wait a minute. I know that voice.

The holy saviour and redeemer continued, "Truly, truly, I say to you, he who believes in me will also do the works that I do; and Greater Works than These will he do."

The crowd's hands went up into the air and started swaying and shaking.

Yeah, I know that voice. It was Charlton Heston. "Oh come on," I said. "Charlton Heston? Really?"

My enrapt neighbours ignored me.

"Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again."

I nudged the guy next to me with my wing, "Did you follow that? I didn't follow that. I think Moses might be inebriated."

Again, I was ignored. Damn dirty ape.

I needed a closer look. I flew up on to the stage and landed to the right of Jesus, being sure to remain hidden in the darkness. Boy, did I get an eye full. I saw the Man Behind The Curtain . . . the wizard himself. In what I'm confident is his best performance EVER, Charlton Heston, with eyes closed, was spewing famous Jesus quotes passionately into a microphone back stage. And then I wondered, Why would Jesus need someone to speak for him? Polyps? Bad teeth? Mange?

I hopped closer to Jesus and that's when the truth was revealed to me: Jesus wasn't real. His image was nothing more than glittery, iridescent paint on a piece of plywood illuminated by carefully placed stage lights. Could it be?

[Let's do the math: Jesus → son of god = false + idol + worship = hoodwinked ÷ wasted time = Christianity]

Before I could figure out my next move I was discovered by a group of papal thugs who pointed at me and yelled, "Demon bird! Demon bird!"

The crowd screamed like little girls being chased by zombies. Before making my escape I flew across the stage with talons outstretched and grabbed the good lord Jesus by the halo and knocked him over with a thwack. That should give them something to think about.

So the moral of the story is: I don't have an interview for you this month. Sorry.

Question #37: What happened to Steve?

DiDi's question: Hey Steve - where you been? I've missed your disturbing point of view.

Current mood: MIA

I appreciate your concern, DiDi. One of the following things has prevented me from writing my weekly blog:

A. I was abducted by aliens and am now touring the world with new age conspiracy theorist David Icke

B. After a brief flirtation with opiates, a rather tall and intrusive building jumped in front of me while I was flying home from Atlantic City. After impact I fell into the thankfully over-teased nacho cheese-colored bouffant of a Puerto Rican she-male named Marisa (pronounced Mah-reeza) who happened to be "working" at the time. Lucky me. I suffered a broken wing and a slight brain injury. After detangling myself from Marisa's hair I checked myself into rehab with Dr. Drew and will be appearing with Gary Busey on the next season of VH1's hit reality show Celebrity Rehab.

or

C. I found Jesus.

The answer will be revealed in my next blog entry . . . which may or may not be posted next week.

Question #36: Practical Solutions for Baldness

Roger's question: Hey Steve, I'm going bald. What can I do?

Current mood: puffy

Golly Roger, that sucks. But have no fear, you've come to the right place. I have a few ideas that will make your baldness a thing of the past.

1. The perfect solution: Bring one of your favourite high school photographs to your local tattoo parlour. Choose a photo of yourself that really demonstrates your peak hair experience. Have the artist tattoo your missing hair on to your scalp. This will give those casting eyes upon you the illusion that you have a full head of hair (unless your head starts to sweat thereby creating an unsightly sheen which will give you the appearance of wearing a strangely thin plastic helmet. Simple solution: carry a towel around your neck during warm weather or rigorous workouts and pat your head dry as needed.)

2. A less permanent, earth friendly and unbelievably nutritious solution: Purchase a sack of chia seeds from your local health food store. Mix 1/2 cup of chia seeds with 2 cups of warm water until a thick gelatinous paste is formed. Spread the paste on your scalp and sit in the sun for three days. In no time you'll be sporting a tidy green afro while at the same time becoming your own eco system.

3. Shoestring budget solution: Purchase some yarn and a glue gun.

4. Captain Kirk solution: Staple a beaver to your head.

Please don't staple a beaver to your head, Roger. It's mean spirited and everyone will know you're trying to hide your baldness.

Thanks for your question !