Can’t your god make a better miracle than poop stains in a diaper?

May 25, 2016

It was making headlines recently, a poop smear in the shape of a cross in a newborn baby’s diaper. Big poopie whoopie. Wonkette reports via Patheos that the mother, Katy Vasquez, took to Facebook to show the world this miraculous discovery.

This sign came in the oddest form. My babies poop. I went to change his diaper, and he pooped a cross. It might not be the prettiest sign, but he put it where he knew I’d see it. In my babies diaper. Lol. Hard to miss what’s right there in front of you.

If you can, or want to, feel free to share the message. That God is with us. And he gives us signs to let us know that things will be OK. It’s not always the prettiest sign, but he puts it where he knows we’ll see it. We’re good most of the time, but God is good all the time.

I’m sharing, all right — not because of gods, but because of belief in gods and how far gods appear to have fallen in terms of making themselves known to their believers. A poopy diaper? Really? Is that the best trick he’s got? Taking advantage of fabric and natural wrinkles and bodily functions?

While looking for this particular news story, my search also highlighted Yahoo Answers where the question is asked, Did Jesus poop on the cross? The “best” answer comes from someone going by the handle of Non-Believers are Dead Inside (spelling errors kept as found):

Well first of all the crucifixes are actaully censored they have Jesus wearing a loin cloth but actually He was naked as a form of public embarisment for the crucified prisoners. And yes they went to the bathroom hanging upon their crosses. In fact when a person is dying it’s not uncommon for that person to wet and soil themselves.
You make fun of things like this now but one day when you get old or when your dying your going to have accidents yourself. There is a reason why companies make diapers for adults.

No sources cited to verify any little factoids here regarding loincloths but I did find an abstract at the National Library of Medicine:

Death, usually after 6 hours–4 days, was due to multifactorial pathology: after-effects of compulsory scourging and maiming, haemorrhage and dehydration causing hypovolaemic shock and pain, but the most important factor was progressive asphyxia caused by impairment of respiratory movement. Resultant anoxaemia exaggerated hypovolaemic shock. Death was probably commonly precipitated by cardiac arrest, caused by vasovagal reflexes, initiated inter alia by severe anoxaemia, severe pain, body blows and breaking of the large bones. The attending Roman guards could only leave the site after the victim had died, and were known to precipitate death by means of deliberate fracturing of the tibia and/or fibula, spear stab wounds into the heart, sharp blows to the front of the chest, or a smoking fire built at the foot of the cross to asphyxiate the victim.

So, really, pooping yourself would have been the least of your worries.

Back to gods and miracles, though. I’ll have to invoke The Great God Om now. As a Terry Pratchett fan from way, way, way back, I highly recommend his book Small Gods.

The one true god of Omnia has gone through a bad time. Om transformed himself into a tortoise at some point in the past but, due to the lack of true believers now, he’s stuck in this low form. The loudest, most obnoxious religious folk don’t believe in him as much as they pretend they do so they don’t hear him call for help, or writhe in agony as he curses them. In fact, the only real believer he has left is Brutha, a pathetic novice at the temple who can barely hoe the lettuce but knows the books of Om upside down and sideways and Believes in him completely. Om must take Brutha on the path to becoming the next prophet, no matter how difficult a task it may be.

The Turtle Moves. And it should move into your bookshelves immediately.


Lacking other ideas for a Saturday Post

August 9, 2014

Have some Terry Pratchett. Buzzfeed put together a nice set of quotes a while back.


–edited to add–

Equal Rites is a wonderful story about a young girl named Eskarina who at birth was given a wizard’s staff by inattentive accident – the donating wizard thought she was the 8th son of an 8th son at the time – and grows up bonded to it in ways she doesn’t realize immediately. As she ages, though, it becomes clear the staff is working through her and the only solution to this magical problem is to give her adequate magical training.

Granny Weatherwax, a very talented witch on the Discworld, takes Esk under her wing to teach her proper witching – which is to say: how to get things done without resorting to (much) magic. Esk learns a lot from her but when Esk learns of the existence of a school for wizards called the Unseen University, she’s determined to show that women can be just as good at wizardry as the men. Of course, nothing quite goes to plan…

It’s a good one.

A Year in Provence – the unreview (and more)

November 26, 2008

Well, it was bound to happen – a book club selection that didn’t appeal. Peter Mayle’s series of books about life in Provence come well recommended but this one didn’t keep my interest very long. Don’t tell my book club, but I’m going to cheat and watch the A&E miniseries instead, even if it isn’t exactly the same.

The book, written from a diary that Peter kept, is more like a survey of interesting places, characters, events, and customs. It rarely goes into much depth, instead covers his and Annie’s experiences very broadly. In contrast, the film treats fewer subjects but explores most of them in more depth. Where the book only mentions the Parisian French, in the film we meet “Evelyn”, the frantic woman who speaks an almost unintelligible form of English, who has an eye for Peter, and who almost goes mad trying to shut up the neighbor’s cock that crows so loudly in the morning, waking her and her house guests.

What I read of the book did have some interesting and funny situations. At one point, the Mayles decide that they can add a nice table to their back garden by the pool for having meals outside on nice days. Since stone was relatively cheap, they decided to get a tabletop made from a nice shade of marble (I think it was). It was a great idea – until they realized how hard it’d be to move the damned thing where they wanted it. Luckily the brawny men revamping their kitchen area were willing to attempt it.

It’ll be interesting to see what the other women get out of it, I guess. I’m wondering what I could suggest for reading. My tastes lean toward sci-fi and fantasy and nothing overly intelligent or life-affirming.

Oh, maybe one by Robert J. Sawyer would work. Rollback was an interesting conceptual novel about a couple who are eligible for a youth serum of some sort but it only works to rejuvenate the man, not his elderly wife. It’s unfortunate for her, and not just for selfish reasons – the wife was the first to decode an alien message and helped send the reply. Three decades later, a response has finally arrived and SETI could use her expertise again. Her health is very poor and she’s not expected to survive long enough to figure it out. Eyrie doesn’t give it a great review but it’d still be thought-provoking.

Worth a thought, anyway. It’s either that or I pester those poor women to read Hogfather over Christmas, like I do every year.


I love this book. It doesn’t appeal to everyone but I think the story is so terrific. This group of things that call themselves The Auditors hire an assassin to kill the Hogfather (Discworld’s version of Santa). The Hogfather’s realm is the only place Death can’t go so he convinces his granddaughter, Susan, to go in his stead. Death’s too busy anyway – he’s got to do all he can to reboot belief in the Hogfather or the sun won’t come up in the morning.

Which reminds me, add The Folklore of Discworld to my Christmas list…