That Dirty Book, the Holey Bible

Yet AGAIN, late last night, I tried to read that Bad, Baddest, Bad-Assed Book, The King James Bible. Love the lurid, licentious language, but the text is generally too psycho-pornographic. Beginning with the geriatric jism of Genesis, and ending with the ergot-induced rascals who rabidly wrote the ribaldry in Revelation, the Holey Bible is just too dirty, even for me. Too much Sodomy in Leviticus, and the erotic imagery of the Song of Songs gets me too hot and bothered to fall asleep without dramatically increasing my valium dosage. Too many women get stoned, not with enjoyable herbs, but with boulders. Too many cities wiped off the map, and hapless wenches transformed to pillars of salt. God is a mean and sadistic old man, and he badly needed an editor. I like Shakespeare, but Old King Jimmy didn't benefit enough from his scribes' abilities: most of the passages are sophomoric, redundant, and redundant. The Bible: Pretty much a real snoozer, fit only for a boozer.