I think doing stand up comedy is the only thing that allows me to be extremely disenchanted with life as a whole, and yet still have something to look forward to.
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I am watching a show about an upcoming show that takes people who were in this other show and makes them live an opposite lifestyle in this new show. Is this what tv is now? The show that this show I am currently watching is about is called "Exiled," and they take girls from that "Sweet 16" show and make them live in a village in Africa. I'd like to think that all those terrible "Sweet 16" shows were just a set up for this show...doubt it though.
So it seems that open mic on monday went really well. A lot of people who weren't my friends told me they really enjoyed my set. Of course I had to go first and the MC didn't do a great job of warming up the crowd. But another comic told me that it was probably a good thing because at least everyone was listening; where as the later comedians had to battle the chattering scenester kids who show up for karaoke.
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In the middle of my set I do a few jokes on blue tooth headsets and a guy in the front was wearing one. I was really waiting for him to say something but he never did.
Anyway, I was invited to perform at this thing thursday night called relapse theater at 380 14th street. it is BYOB and a 5 dollar cover that starts at 9. I am told it is stand up with a very underground sort of ambiance. So anyone who wants to come, I will be there.
I will be doing an entirely different set than monday because I have so much fuckin material I am just trying to try it all out to see what works best. So if you saw me monday, you won't have to sit through the same exact shit.
I was also invited to do this comedy club in stone mountain. Apparently the guy is desperate for white comics. The crowd was described to me as the exact opposite of my kind of crowd...and that they'd probably never relate to me at all...so we'll have to see about that.
I'll be doing stand up at the star bar monday. 9 o'clock
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I am convinced now that eharmony.com is set on "keeping people with their own kind." Look at these commercials! There is no testimonial given by an interracial couple. They even have an Asian couple. An Asian person with another Asian person in America? Have you seen much of that?
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I think it is pompous and quasi-decemnovenariate to use "quasi" before obscure or obsolete words containing more than five syllables.
When I was a kid I purchased everything with change found in the couch cushions. I grew tired of counting out coins on counters that were over my head; so I came up with an idea that would revolutionize coins...weight system! Make the weight of a coin relative to its worth. A penny is one gram...nickel is five etc. But recently I had a dream where my system was in place and I was cheating it by putting fishing weights in the bag with my coins. Then I thought I would be caught, so I started smearing a little gunk on every coin I had to weigh them down. This forced clerks to quickly glance at every coin before putting them on the scale, which pretty much nullified the purpose of the system. If you have to glance at every coin, why wouldn't you just go ahead and count them?
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If you see this lady turning in clockwise you are using your right brain.
If you see it the other way, you are using left brain.
Some people do see both ways, but most people see it only one way.
See if you can make her go one way and then the other by shifting the brain's current.
BOTH DIRECTIONS CAN BE SEEN
Experimentation has shown that the two different sides, or hemispheres, of the brain are responsible for different manners of thinking. The following table illustrates the differences between left-brain and right-brain thinking:
Left Brain Right Brain
Looks at Looks at
Most individuals have a distinct preference for one of these styles of thinking. Some, however, are more whole-brained and equally adept at both modes. In general, schools tend to favor left-brain modes of thinking, while downplaying the right-brain ones. Left-brain scholastic subjects focus on logical thinking, analysis, and accuracy. Right-brained subjects, on the other hand, focus on aesthetics, feeling, and creativity.
At first it was turning counterclockwise, but I can reverse it with a little effort. For me, going from clockwise to counter-clockwise is instantaneous, but it takes about 10 seconds the other way around. I am supposed to be dead even in regards to what side of my brain I use more. I have always been ambidextrous and even made the same score on math and verbal on my SAT's. This may explain why I have a panoply of interests which are scattered from one end of the spectrum to the other. I am a jack of all trades and have short bursts of ambition towards one pursuit or another that ends up unsuccessful. I have repeatedly thrown myself into disenchantment by meandering hither and yon between a number of short-lived "goals." If I was all left brain I might have gone through with academic goals. If I were all right brain I might be able to get more writing done... Instead I am a poker playing, skateboarding,board game nerd with a penchant for writing, riddles, biology, physics, and words.
I am such a softy. Someone I know recently pissed me off by being a big asshole and before confronting him I had rehearsed a scathing tongue lashing...of course when I actually broached the issue, I meekly stated my qualm and avoided demanding an explanation. In fact, he acted offended that I attacked his character and said "so what." I am so bad at telling people off.
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I met a new person who is really cool. I am awestruck at their ability to spout copious amounts of knowledge on a panoply of random subjects. It has been a while since I have had a conversation with an interlocutor who was so sharp.
Valentine's Day seems to do nothing but make people feel bad. Many single folk feel the need to protest the holiday by goin out with other singles. Couples are forced to do something for their significant others on VD because not doing something on that one day will negate all other days of amorous admiration. ...of course, there is a stigma attached to V day for me. In third grade I won a fake gold bracelet from an arcade and put it in the valentine of a girl I had a crush on. She found it hilarious and so did the other girls...embarrassing doesn't quite cover it.
On another note, I find it ironic that we have reached a time where a black guy or a woman could be the next president, and yet we still speak of America as if races and gender decide a person's identity. "Hillary has the asian vote"..."Obama carries the young white male vote." The media acts as if the big riddle is figuring out who black women will vote for. Everyone assumes that the democrats are certain to win but people forget that republican voters seem to silently vote in droves...It is as if many Americans privately wish to keep old white guys in office. I don't think that the country will eagerly elect a democrat as a response to the mess republicans have made. People can be convinced that McCain will finish the job in Iraq and that democrats will just pull out.
Has no one noticed that Hillary and Obama are the same? Between the two though, I lean towards Obama because he at least has clear positions that don't change to better suit opinion polls. Hillary voted for the war because she was afraid of appearing soft on terror. Her experience only illustrates that she is accustomed to the way politicians bullshit through everything. I believe any smart and competent person can excel at a job that was previously held by an idiot.
This sobriety is fucking killing me. I simply don't know what to do with myself. Most nights, I am the designated driver because my apathy renders me entirely sequacious. Every time I'm with my favorite people and I am the only one not drinking, I want nothing more than to be somewhere else. I can say for sure that I can't stand being around drunk people. And, in a hodiernal sense at least, I am averse to people in general.
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Unweaving the paradox of social interaction: Why don't fat people have more friends than the average person?
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Newton's universal law of gravitation states that every object in the universe exerts a tug on every other. It's true: the laws of gravitation do not just apply to "the heavenly bodies"...in fact, it is safe to say that it is more a tour de force in those of us with unheavanly bodies.
By this form of reasoning, one would deduce:
Fat person --> More Mass --> more gravitational pull
And yet it seems that larger people, as a rule, have less friends. Though I am certain that a fat person can rely on the quality of their friends, I am talking about quantity and the collective mass of friends without much regard to depth.
The answer to this pickle of a paradox brings us right back to Newton. Newton realized that the pull of any two objects is proportional to the mass of each and varies inversely as the square of the distance between them. Put another way, if you double the distance between two objects, the attraction between them becomes four times weaker.
F = Gmm/r^2
I think it is well known that there is an attitude of disdain directed toward the huskier folks of society. There is no need to get into the unjustified reasons for this. It is only important that it be acknowledged.
It is clear that, while bigger people have more mass and thus more gravitational pull...the logistics involving range of vision in reference to the gravity of people proves to be entirely askew. People can see a fat person from far enough away that they are able to avoid the increased force-field of gravity. In relation to the gravity that is pulling us toward earth, gravity of a horizontal nature between other people is negligible. And to add to this; being fatter may increase your gravitational pull, but it also makes you easy to spot.
All in all, I would only recommend getting fat as a side-effect to leading a satisfying life...not as a means of acquiring more friends.
What's the big hoop-la with these fabricated benchmarks? I know I tend to be the village cynic and it seems like I take pleasure in pissing on what everyone holds dear; but I swear this isn't the case. Yesterday was 2007 and today is 2008. This is no more significant than July 11th and July 12th. By the same rule, your birthday only matters to you because you decide that it should mean something.
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If, for instance, you had a resolution to quit smoking; do you think you will just quit at 12am after sucking down as many as humanly possible in every minute preceding that particular stroke of the clock? If you really want to do something, you should be in the process of doing it as soon as it is decided to be the right thing to do.
It's not that I am annoyed by people making goals for themselves. It is just that everyone's self-perceived short-comings are channeled into the concept of a New Year's resolution. And why are people so ready to share this information with me? I don't want to know if you think you are too fat. I don't want to know if you are in search of a soulmate. I don't want to hear some crock-o-shit answer like, "I want to watch more sunrises and/or sunsets."
I hate myself as much as the next person, but I have the decency not to tell you in person what faults I need to change. And I certainly will not make up some spectre of a fleeting, phony resolution. Would I sound too much like a nay-saying curmudgeon to propose that the best resolution is to not make a resolution?...or at least not in response to having a new calendar on your wall.
This is a speech by Steven Weinberg, who I mentioned in my last post. I think he brings up an interesting point: More heroes, less prophets.
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The really good stuff starts at about 2min, 15 sec.
Before I completely nerd out, I would just like to ask the journal viewing community if I am the only person who takes notice of eharmony commercials...Every one of the testimonials are by people who have been matched up with someone of their own ethnicity. Maybe I am conditioned to expect a melting pot of races crammed into every commercial and alarms automatically go off if things are otherwise...but it just seems odd to me.
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I've been immersing myself in an old past time: quantum mechanics/particle physics/the search for a grand unified theory etc. It is truly a challenge to envision certain things that go against the very nature of our comprehension. Time and space are such priori concepts to us that it is hard to contemplate down an avenue of thought in which they are both pointless. We consider temperature as a measurement that effects certain processes within a certain proximity; but we don't consider temperature when thinking in terms of sub-atomic particles because it is of no use. The fact that time and space are inherent in our thought process makes it difficult to disregard them for the purposes of situations in which they do not apply.
What intrigues me most about this obsession with a search for a grand unified theory is that our own ways of thinking about it tend to limit us. To be in search of a unifying theory would imply that we are cognizant of all that needs to be explained. Simply because quantum mechanics is very useful in explaining the behavior of particles on a sub-atomic level, and relativity explains the universe on a very macroscopic scale...this does not mean that we need only find that little link which coheres the two theories.
Things don't work that way in general. These explanatory theories are not of a deterministic nature. They do not say that there are certain laws that govern everything and that we will be able to understand them completely and "know how the world works." These theories help to understand the actions of particles so that we may better know the probability of future occurrences...and this is the most we will ever understand things. Everything is not encapsulated in a bubble and strictly orchestrated with purpose in mind.
Randomness is the very essence behind everything. Read "Guns, Germs, and Steel" and notice how the fates of human civilizations were driven by randomness. In the same way, the most basic quarks and leptons that make up our universe are inherently random within the margins that are enforced by the laws of physics. Understanding what laws govern particles can only lead to an understanding of the probability of their actions. The human desire to understand everything sometimes eclipses the fact that it is impossible to know the future.
One can waste their time in wonderment about how all these conditions had to be "just right" in order for us to be here. But I think Nobel laureate, Steven Weinberg, brings up an interesting point. In the very plausible theory of the multiverse, there could have been an unfathomable number of big bangs and perhaps few of them resulted in universes comfortable for life...and of course, those who inhabit places suitable for life are the only ones wondering why. It amazes me that one can think of how improbable their existence is...about how the sun is neither too close nor too far etc. When in our own lowly solar system there are lifeless planets all around us and of course, we here on the third rock from the sun are the only ones capable of pondering this. If Earth were the only planet around the Sun, there would be some merit to being amazed at our proper proximity. This, however, is not the case.
You could say we are lucky, but there are no people who are unlucky in this respect...to be unlucky in this regard would mean not being at all. So, if everyone who ever lived is "lucky," who exactly is unlucky? Should we pray for all those unlucky souls who never were?
I flew to Illinois Saturday and fell asleep before the plane took off. I woke up and, unbeknownst to me, we were in the air. There was a sharp turbulence dip to the right and I was under the impression that we were still on the runway. Instinctively I said, "holy shit!" because I thought we were crashing off the fucking runway. The passengers were already a little tense because of the dip, and they looked at me in absolute horror because they thought that I had seen some sign of impending doom; like a wing flying off, or a missile headed our way. The terror was brief and was followed by laughter. I then tried to explain that I thought we were still on the runway and...anyway, it was a sufficiently awkward explanation in its own right.
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When we had a home invasion, I was the first to see the gunman and said the same thing: "holy shit!" It appears that these two words will be my last, whenever that time comes. I don't want "holy shit!" to be my last words.
This whole depression thing is so vague. As a person who overthinks things; it is hard not to overthink the problems which come about when I overthink things. I am, at the moment, not "depressed" in any particular way. I don't feel like I am completely me either. Perhaps I have been in and out of misery for so many years now that I don't really know me anyway and simply assume that whatever aspect of me which is seemingly more productive is the real me.
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I feel like Bernard Marx in Brave New World; except that I am not refusing the Soma...I am taking it (Zoloft= neo-soma). It's true that I have only experienced what I would consider happiness in short bursts...so I am not too clear on exactly what "happiness" is... However, my lack of depression has not manifested any increase in "happiness" and has been rather depressing in its own right. I don't feel like I have been alleviated of this chemical imbalance that "makes" me depressed. My depression has always made sense to me in a logical way. Of course, the reasons for my depression are just as valid as they ever were, and yet I am not noticeably depressed anymore. It feels like I am taking medication that makes me not ruminate negatively. It isn't as if I view my depressed self as irrationally pessimistic. I think I was actually more in-tune to the nature of my surroundings while void of any meds. I am very uncomfortable taking something that is apparently prohibiting my focus on certain undeniable truths. Ignorance is quite the opposite of bliss in my mind. Not that pills are making me ignorant...but they seem to get me into a mode where I "do" more and have to force myself to get lost in thought; which has always come naturally. This is still somewhat difficult for me to explain...perhaps I will have a clearer understanding of things sometime later on.
Caveat: I will concede that I am none-to-astute in the practices of homeopathic "solutions." I will also readily admit that I am not the healthiest man alive. In fact, if vital signs were disregarded, I'm certain there are dead people healthier than me.
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I feel ok. I don't feel "great," but who does? Well, I suppose a few people do. Anyway, if I wanted to feel great, it is not my first inclination to be stabbed repeatedly by a chinaman. I know someone who swears by acupuncture. He says that it is an ancient practice that has been used thousands of years to relieve tension.
I think I understand the logic now...Fuck all these "advances in modern medicine." Surely something that is really old is more respectable. This is why I now go to a medieval barber who preforms blood lettings. It does wonders for the tension. All that blood swirling around in me...it just feels good to let it out.
Whereas, on or about the night prior to Christmas, there did occur at a certain improved piece of real property (hereinafter "the House") a general lack of stirring by all creatures therein, including, but not limited to a mouse.
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A variety of foot apparel, e.g. stocking, socks, etc., had been affixed by and around the chimney in said House in the hope and/or belief that St. Nick a/k/a/ St. Nicholas a/k/a/ Santa Claus (hereinafter "Claus") would arrive at sometime thereafter.
The minor residents, i.e. the children, of the aforementioned House, were located in their individual beds and were engaged in nocturnal hallucinations, i.e. dreams, wherein vision of confectionery treats, including, but not limited to, candies, nuts and/or sugar plums, did dance, cavort and otherwise appear in said dreams.
Whereupon the party of the first part (sometimes hereinafter referred to as "I"), being the joint-owner in fee simple of the House with the parts of the second part (hereinafter "Mamma"), and said Mamma had retired for a sustained period of sleep. (At such time, the parties were clad in various forms of headgear, e.g. kerchief and cap.)
Suddenly, and without prior notice or warning, there did occur upon the unimproved real property adjacent and appurtenant to said House, i.e. the lawn, a certain disruption of unknown nature, cause and/or circumstance. The party of the first part did immediately rush to a window in the House to investigate the cause of such disturbance.
At that time, the party of the first part did observe, with some degree of wonder and/or disbelief, a miniature sleigh (hereinafter "the Vehicle") being pulled and/or drawn very rapidly through the air by approximately eight (8) reindeer. The driver of the Vehicle appeared to be and in fact was, the previously referenced Claus.
Said Claus was providing specific direction, instruction and guidance to the approximately eight (8) reindeer and specifically identified the animal coconspirators by name: Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner and Blitzen (hereinafter "the Deer"). (Upon information and belief, it is further asserted that an additional coconspirator named "Rudolph" may have been involved.)
The party of the first part witnessed Claus, the Vehicle and the Deer intentionally and willfully trespass upon the roofs of several residences located adjacent to and in the vicinity of the House, and noted that the Vehicle was heavily laden with packages, toys and other items of unknown origin or nature. Suddenly, without prior invitation or permission, either express or implied, the Vehicle arrived at the House, and Claus entered said House via the chimney.
Said Claus was clad in a red fur suit, which was partially covered with residue from the chimney, and he carried a large sack containing a portion of the aforementioned packages, toys, and other unknown items. He was smoking what appeared to be tobacco in a small pipe in blatant violation of local ordinances and health regulations.
Claus did not speak, but immediately began to fill the stocking of the minor children, which hung adjacent to the chimney, with toys and other small gifts. (Said items did not, however, constitute "gifts" to said minor pursuant to the applicable provisions of the U.S. Tax Code.)
Upon completion of such task, Claus touched the side of his nose and flew, rose and/or ascended up the chimney of the House to the roof where the Vehicle and Deer waited and/or served as "lookouts." Claus immediately departed for an unknown destination.
However, prior to the departure of the Vehicle, Deer and Claus from said House, the party of the first part did hear Claus state and/or exclaim: "Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!" Or words to that effect.
I am surprised that I have been to the fair more than once. The fair sucks. Hell, the name alone implies mediocrity. There is a reason they don't call it the excellent. At best, your experience will be less than satisfactory, but a notch above poor.
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The last time I went to the fair, I spent way too much money trying to make a basketball shot so that I could win a stupid toy that I would never buy right out. So, what possessed me to spend money on the chance to win something that I'd never spend money on?...I have no idea. I'm pretty sure that the diameter of the rim was only a centimeter larger than that of the ball.
But what perturbed me most about the fair was the bumper cars. Actually, the sign read "Bumper Car Racing." I was under the impression that a "race" had to have a final destination...other than neck injury. In no way is this a race. There are no winners in bumper cars. It is essentially a rink of carnage with nowhere to go but into each other. If you ponder it long enough, it will be apparent that bumper cars are a depressing metaphor for life.
It is interesting to watch the people who have been driving real cars for a long time while in the bumper car thunder-dome. They act as if they are surprised when they get hit. You can see that, for a split second, they are pissed off and have to remind themselves that they are having "fun." How could you be surprised in this situation? What did you think you signed up for? Did you think you were going to win the race?
Of course, I say this and what happens when I get into a bumper car...I get hit right off the bat and snap into road rage mode. I instinctively yelled "what the fuck!?" to the driver behind me; which turned out to be a 9 year old kid. I would feel bad about making him cry, but I think I taught him a lesson. Think about it: these kids are going to be driving real cars in a few years. With most kids, the only experience they'll ever have behind the wheel of anything is either racing around in go-carts, or ramming the shit out of each other in bumper cars. Me frightening this child may have prevented him from slamming into other drivers while pointing and laughing at them. Ya never know.
I am so proud to live in a progressively modern state like Georgia, where we deal with a drought by praying for rain. In case you didn't know, a while back our governor Sonny Purdue lead us all in a rain prayer on the steps of the capital. How did this come about? How was it decided that a Baptist rain dance was in order?
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I imagine people sitting around the Governor's office and one guy saying, "geez, we are really running out of water. Perhaps we should reconsider our water management practices." And Sonny says, "nah fuck all that. God just ain't payin atteention. How bout I lead us all in prayer, let God know what's up; and see warr that takes us."
I mean, it is pretty serious, but people are going a little overboard. The state's definition of "State of Emergency" must differ from my own. I don't see it as a sign of the apocalypse that I can only water my lilies every other day.
And of course, it rained less than a quarter of an inch the next day. "Eets a miracle! Praise the low-wurd!" says a dentally-challenged woman on the channel 2 news... If this is indeed a miracle of the low-wurd, we have low-wurd expectations of what a miracle is.
My mom gave me an early Xmas present: The Portable Atheist. It is a new book, compiled by Christopher Hitchens, that includes excerpts from every great thinker you could imagine. Coming from an atheist family, I've always felt that we've consistently mocked the "true" spirit of Xmas in the way that we celebrate. When my dad gave me a Nintendo for Xmas it was from "Santa & Jesus." The question that this prompted was "who is Jesus anyway?" I think that my dad had spent some time telling me about santa and had never really spent time explaining the myths of Jesus. But he more told me about the story of who Santa Claus is, and never implied that a fat man in red actually delivered toys to every girl and boy via chimney chute. He told me about Jesus in the same way, prefacing every extraordinary claim with "and some people believe..." I remember also asking my parents "what are we?" after talking to a kid at school who identified he and his family as baptists. My parents' answer was, "we're Sandfords!" My mom has also used the term "Sandfordism."
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I think that this might be the reason that I make fun of religion so much. I tend to drill things into the ground anyway, and the whole Jesus thing is of endless fascination to me. I guess people that are jaded to the inanity of the whole bit just don't find it that funny to constantly make jesus jokes, but I do. I don't think I will ever get used to the story. I was never taught to approach any religious folklore with a somber sense of seriousness. All of it was explained to me as something some people just decide to believe in. I was never taught to see faithfulness as a noble attribute either. And I am not playing dumb when I genuinely ask that someone explain to me how such a trait could ever be considered virtuous. I can never be sure how much an effect a person's parents have on them, but I am fairly thankful for the way my family is I spose.
So I see this piece on Dateline about the "buy nothing campaign." It is a movement which is attempting to counter the materialistic and over-consuming spirit of Xmas. Apparently, I have been an advocate of this for years...I just didn't know that being broke could make me part of a "movement." If you have been friends with me for years; that means you have an extensive macaroni necklace collection. And when I'm real hard up, it's macaroni braceletes.
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The controversial slogan of the buy nothing campaign is, "What would Jesus buy?" Implying that he wouldn't buy anything. But this got me thinking: what would Jesus buy? I am not the type to expect a nicer gift from someone who has more money... but if you have magical powers and are of close relation to an all-powerful God, you shouldn't be handing out chia pets for Xmas. If I was an apostle...actually, if I were the fucking doorman of Jesus's apartment building, I'd be expecting a mind-blowing gift. But Jesus is a total dick, so I could picture this happening...
ME: Oh hey Jesus. Merry Xmas!
JC: Ditto, pal! I got you this!
ME: (with furrowed brow) Um, this is a nice sweater Jesus...but I was thinking something more along the lines of the gift of flight. And I know you can read minds, so you knew that and gave me this stupid sweater anyway.
JC: Well, you are being unreasonable.
ME: Well if flying is unreasonable, then I'll take one of those invisibility cloaks.
Or is it Harry Potter that has the cloak? I get em confused sometimes. It is basically the same story: Boy wizard overcomes dark forces. Although I have to give more credit to Harry Potter because I think he is savvy enough to realize that if you have magic powers, no one should be able to nail you to a cross.
Though I will say that Jesus, while lacking in the powers of self-preservation, knows how to party hard. I think it is common knowledge that Jesus was a wino. I know that if my drunk uncle (or drunkle, if you prefer) had the ability to change water into wine; he'd be doing the crazy type of shit that Jesus did in the Bible...check this out...
"The next day as they were leaving Bethany, Jesus was hungry. Seeing in the distance a fig tree in leaf, he went to find out if it had any fruit. When he reached it, he found nothing but leaves, because it was not the season for figs. Then he said to the tree, "May no one ever eat fruit from you again." And his disciples heard him say it."Mathew11: 12-14.
Is this the son of God, or the son of Rod Stewart?