I was bitten by a radioactive Jesus

(continued from 4: Your Average Juvenile Humerus)

This sentence no verb. Man, has anything truer ever been said? Not that I am aware of, although my favorite Zen koan is a contender:

A disciple approached the master to ask him a question. “Master, does a dog have Buddha nature?” The master replied: “Mu!” And the monk was immediately enlightened.

That just about says it all, to my way of thinking. Of course the best part is the end. They all end that way: “And the monk was immediately enlightened.” It makes it easy to write your own:

Disciple: Master, what is on TV tonight?
Master: Hockey, and a rerun of The Love Boat on cable.

And the monk was immediately enlightened.

It’s just that simple. Try it at home. The other part of my favorite koan is pretty cool, too: “Mu!” I’ve frequently tried it on people, both before and since I was bitten by a radioactive Jesus. I’m not sure if any of the people at whom I’ve shouted “Mu!” were immediately enlightened, but I haven’t noticed any real difference in the range of reactions since the Kestlerville radioactive Jesus incident, so it seems likely that my super Jesus powers do not include enlightening people.

I think the “loaves to fishes” trick that I can now do is pretty amazing, although none of my uses of it so far have won popular acclaim. My “Wonderbread to perch” effort was not well received at Aaron Burr Primary School in Kansas City. Apparently I had overestimated the “wacky fun value” of suddenly finding your hands full of two wriggling perch covered with peanut butter and jelly. You would think that I would have learned my lesson there, but in my hubris I tried again. But the “croissants to Thresher sharks” stunt I pulled in Chicago got even worse notices. “Thumbs down for Jesus-man,” wrote the Chicago Tribune, while the Sun-Times suggested that I had “been turning too much water into wine to exhibit good judgement, much less Christ-like wisdom.”

These failures were discouraging, but I was just trying to put my powers to good use, and I had to keep trying.

Well, I thank God that Leonard Nimoy stepped in. Many people seem to be unaware of the fact that Leonard Nimoy has been tirelessly working behind the scenes for the safety and well-being of humanity, both before his stints on “Mission Impossible,” “Star Trek” and “In Search Of” and in the years between and since. In 1963 he convinced UFO aliens not to give their alien super-technology to the Fourth Reich conspirators in Argentina, thereby averting a massive increase in the teaching of German verb conjugations worldwide, although John F. Kennedy did not have full confidence in Leonard, and hedged his bets a bit that same year in Berlin. Nimoy saved us all from Mothman in Point Pleasant, West Virginia in 1967. My uncle Ed claims to have aided him in this, and I have no reason to disbelieve him. Leonard has not spoken to me of this affair, and I respect his privacy. In the early eighties he brokered a delicate deal regarding international banking rules between the Vatican Secret Police and the Spymasters of the American Urological Association, preventing a covert war that might have left hundreds of churches priestless, and thousands upon thousands of bladders infected. He never takes credit for these heroics, of course. Leonard prefers that his hand be unseen, and the good that he accomplishes is its own reward.

Many people do not know that the pointy ears he wore as Spock from 1966 to 1969 are real. They are his own, natural ears. When playing most roles he must wear uncomfortable latex prostheses over his ears to compress them into a “normal” rounded shape. If you ever see him at a public function of any kind you’ll see his ears in their naturally acute state.

Anyway, it was with great relief that I received Leonard’s call at a diner in the little hamlet of St. Clair, Missouri. I have no idea how he knew to call me there, but that’s Leonard for you. The connection was not good, and it was difficult to hear each other, so we were both shouting in much the way that one shouts at a deaf foreigner to overcome the obstacles of language and inability to sense auditory stimuli. Our conversation went more or less like this:

Leonard: “Albert, this is Leonard Nimoy calling.”
Me: “Really? This is so cool!”
Leonard: “I want to talk to you about your super Jesus powers.”
Me: “Uhh, OK, I guess.”

To be honest this didn’t thrill me. I was getting pretty frustrated and feeling like a bit of a loser, like I was just blundering around the Midwest using my abilities haphazardly and without any focus or plan.

Leonard: “Albert, you can’t keep blundering around the Midwest using your abilities haphazardly and without any focus or plan.”
Me: “Mr. Nimoy, you are so right.”
Leonard: “Please, call be Leonard.”
Me: “OK, Leonard. I’m really honored.”
Leonard: “Don’t be silly. I’m just a regular Joe like you. Except of course for the fact that I don’t have super Jesus powers.”

We arranged to meet in St. Louis, at a coffee shop hung with colorful paintings of sheep and goats. Leonard became my manager, and sort of my “dispatcher.” He used his incomparable network of connections and information sources in order to pinpoint areas where I could do the most good, and arranged for transportation for me to the sites. The money for those bus tickets came out of his own pocket. It almost makes me want to cry, thinking of Leonard’s generosity.

to be continued…