Typical email from one of his fans

I find Allen Hunt's show very refreshing and his teachings are from the Bible and from Tradition. Those comments made by people who do not know the Catholic Faith, a Faith that comes to us from the apostles is a 2,000 year old Church and will with the promise of Her Founder Jesus Christ will endure until the end of time. Those who rile against the Church will do well to examine their beliefs according to the Bible and to Tradition and not by prejustice.

Why Erik is a better Christian than Allen

• All are welcome in Erik's world. I don't care who or what you are, where you've been, what you've done. I accept everyone. All sins are forgiven. You can't come for sleepovers if you are an axe-murderer or something, but other than that, all are welcome. Allen makes his living by the sword of judgment. He and his Catholic brethren are apologists for Moloch, the heavy judger of men, but as for me, I'm just a poor sinner. You are welcome here.
  
  
• Speaking of sin- how is Allen an expert on sin when he lives such a squeaky clean lifestyle? Now ME, I'm an expert. I'm a sinner. I've done (or contemplated doing) damn near everything. "Sin boldly," said Martin Luther. Allen and his pious brethren have forgotten our sinfulness is what makes us human. One can not be saved unless one is a sinner. St. Paul was wrong: continue in sin that grace may abound.
  

• I don't need anything from you. Radio Allen needs sponsors in the same way as Preacher Allen needed converts. But Preacher Erik asks nothing from you. I'm not selling anything. I don't need the mega-faithful or seedy sponsors. It's just you and me, kids.
  
  
• I say what I want: fuck the Sanhedrin. Allen is beholden to advertisers, to his ignorant Christian listeners, and even to the Roman Catholic Church. The beliefs he has to swear to as part of his faith are a litany of absurdities and contradictions. Example: if you use birth control, you will go to hell; if you are not Catholic, you will go to hell; if you die and have not had a priest forgive your sins, you will go to hell. These are REAL beliefs that he HAS to hold or the church will kick him out. Don't you think it influences what he says on the radio? Of course it does. He can only say what is allowed. Meanwhile I can say anything that I find to be true. Or just worth saying. Watch: Hey Pope Benedict, go fuck yourself, you scary piece of shit.
  
  
• I offer holy communion to EVERYONE right now. Just go outside and look at the sky. Or look in the mirror. Or sit down somewhere quiet and think about life and death.
  
  
• I offer salvation to all. Here is what you must do: Be born, live, suffer, break the rules, drink, dance, heal, hang out with whores, tell the religious authorities to go to hell, suffer, die to what you were yesterday, go to hell, be broken open, resurrect, say blessings. Find your father.
  

Wanted: Death Buddy

I guess I am a little older than the generation that popularized the concept of a Fuck Buddy. I think it's a fine idea, having someone with whom there is mutual understanding that you are there to gratify each other's physical needs, and that's all. Could probably be the answer to 9/10s of the world's problems. Men obviously get the better end of this deal; however as long there are still misguided women with intimacy issues, there will be Fuck Buddies available. Speaking for us guys I can't tell you how reassuring it is to know that you can a piece of ass whenever you want. That's why half of guys get married, only to find out it's not the 24-hour all-fantasy fulfilling fuck train they signed on for. A fuck buddy, though. Perfectamundo, as Fonzy would say. If Catholics really want to prevent divorce they should encourage the proliferation of fuck buddies, and not only for priests this time.

It may surprise you to know that a fuck buddy is not what I am after. As much as I think of the FB deal, it seems to lack something. There is some sadness that attends the relationship, a suspicion about the basis of desire I suppose, and how quickly the deal would be off if one or the other partner became suddenly decrepit. Who would be there if my bone marrow suddenly dedided to go rogue, and started vomiting leukemic cells into my bloodstream? Would a fuck buddy tend to me as I faded in some hospital room, worn down to a blood-oozing skeleton by wave after wave of chemo? Doubtful.

It's true that my family and friends would be there, but that's just the problem. I spend half my time evading family and friends. If I was stuck in some deathbed I wouldn't have that option. Plus everyone wants something from the dying. Children are fearful, guilty even, wanting you not to die; friends require you allow them to cheer you up; family want forgivenes or blessing or to get you to change your will; clergy want you to confess or convert; spouses want deathbed love proclamations..."I always loved you best, darling....gasp...I see a white light...cough...there's my dead uncle Norquist...sputter, cough ....goodbye dearly beloved..."

Fuck THAT.

What I want is an attractive gal, 18-44, under 250 pounds, to be with me if I am ever dying. This is the deal we could make: if either of us is diagnosed with a terminal illness and has a short time to go, the other would drop everything and come hang out. She wouldn't have to do anything special. I am not trying to combine the death-fuck buddy into some weird hybrid (although you are free to improvise if you want to make this deal on your own). I am thinking she would just be there, mostly. She would laugh a lot and we would tell jokes and make fun of people. She would listen to my fears without judgment and without an agenda. As I began to go she would sing songs and maybe burn some sage. At the end she would touch me, wet my lips, and bless my organs as they failed. I would make my confessions to her and be absolved.

Maybe in reality it wouldn't work out so well. Or maybe I will just die in a car wreck and avoid the maudlin little scene above. But wouldn't it be nice to know that no matter what you wouldn't die alone?

The death buddy, brought to you by Erik in Athens. I hope it catches on.

BTW: Allen Hunt Show still sucks.

Google This!

I haven't been getting as many hits from people searching for "Allen Hunt Show" off Google lately. Apparently Google doesn't realize this site has to do with Allen Hunt or his Allen Hunt show (one of the few things the Google doesn't know), so I need to post more stuff with "Allen Hunt" or "Allen Hunt Show" in the body of the post. Hence these gratuitous mentions above. "With usury the blog grows thick..." says Ezra Pound. Actually he said "line" not "blog," but who cares. Allen Hunt and his Allen Hunt show still suck.

Thanks for Not Holding Us Accountable Pt II

Allen's website features blogs by his advertisers. These aren't so much actual blogs as they are infomercials for various crappy over-priced products and services.

Of course since they are paying his light bill Allen apparently is willing to suspend his moral integrity and judgmentalism where advertisers are concerned. In my previous post I pointed out that one of his adver-bloggers, Fitness Together, was pushing a health tonic of dubious effectiveness. Now he is enabling and endorsing them as they apparently infringe on copyright, reposting articles from Psychology Today and the Associated Press, as well as appear to plagiarize the website About.com.

From Allen's site:

















From About.com:
















Faith and fraud are just two sides of the same coin, people. A white lie and a black lie. Embrace one, you embrace the other.

Desperate Times

I want to take a break from complaining about Allen to address the root of our nation's current economic problems. To paraphrase Gus Grissom, the problem isn't money, the problem is pussy. You see, our economy doesn't run on credit or capital or gold or love or sunshine or anything else that people commonly hold to be of value. The economy runs on pussy.

If it weren't for us men, and our desire to get laid, there would be no economy. Men only care about real estate, durable goods, technology, medicine, commodities, agriculture, etc as a means for getting pussy. If it weren't for this basic desire we men- we who built the entire economic infrastructure- would be sitting around eating, drinking, smoking, watching tv, and getting fat. In short, we would be women.

If we continue to ignore the root cause of our economic woes, we will be doomed to a long and painful depression. Many Americans do not realize that the top 1% of dudes in the world get 90% of the action. This disparity must be addressed. Which is why I am proposing Erik's Three Point Economic Recovery Plan:

1) I call on the President and the Congress to work togther to enact sweeping legislation which will ensure a fair and equitable distribution of attractive poon. For too long all the hot women have gone to rich guys, jocks and assorted arrogant assholes.

2) I am calling on women everywhere to immediately free up the pussy market. Stop hoarding your vaginas as if they were made of gold bullion.

3) I am calling on my fellow men to work together to end cockblocking as we know it.

My fellow Americans, you must act fast; your country needs you.

I'm It.

It looks like my friend Andy has 'tagged' me (part of a blogging game) to write 6 random things about myself. Sitting down to write, it's actually harder than you think. I am tempted to either write about what he wrote or write something that casts me in some kind of favorable light or advances my anti-Allen agenda somehow. OK. Clearing the mind and trying to be as random as possible...

1. I laugh out loud a lot. I love to laugh and have a few friends that can really get me going. Also find myself watching the same movies over and over and just laughing my ass off at them. That's a hard trick for comedy I think, because it depends on freshness. Some favorites: Joe Dirt, Play It Again, Sam. MST3K.
   
   
2. I cry a lot too. At least a couple times a week. I don't think I cried enough in my twenties, but I am making up for it now. It's part of becoming a man, I think. Really learning how to weep.
   
   
3. I love all things gummy. Gummy bears, gummy dinos, gummy fish, gummy worms. If it's gummy, I'm for it. You could mix a dog turd with a gelatinous base and I would eat it. I find myself eating them on airplanes a lot for some reason. It never fails to get a slightly amused smile when I'm sitting next to some brooks brothers business drone and pull out my gummy fish and offer him some.
   
   
4. I seriously consider killing myself at least once a week, and have done so for years. (note to internet do-gooders- it's just a thought. I'm obviously too cowardly to go through with it.)
   
   
5. I talk to God when I'm alone sometimes. I say, "Hey you fuckin' asshole, it's just you and me, now I want some fucking answers and I want them now." I'm serious. Not just saying that to be funny or snarky or something. I do this.
   
   
6. I've never voted in an election, but I almost always campaign. I've volunteered for political campaigns- put out road signs, etc. I even wrote a speech for one local candidate. He did get elected, but no thanks to me. Never voted.
   
   
7. I know we are only supposed to do six, but you know with 7 being one of the Bible's mystical numbers of perfection, I just couldn't resist. One of my favorite places in the world is the "Arrivals" area at Hartsfield. You come up that long escalator tired from traveling, tired from the plane and the luggage and everything else, and at the very top there is always this big crowd of people who are anxiously waiting for someone special, someone they love, to come home.
   
   

Well, I guess that does it. Your turn.