Not fat, just bulky journal jesus
1990, accident driving drunk, ascii art, chick, might, gigglechick, tranq. nguyen, angry, conspiracy duck, movies, seth diamond, nihilism, momfucking son, devil, jesus, timothy mcsweeney's, disability leave, simpson, massachusetts drunk driving law, I first met the rapist briefly when I was introduced to him when the rapist and my ex-sister-in-law were dropping off my niece at my brother's journal house. Then, during a visit home for my niece's birthday party at my ex-sister-in-law's parents' house, I greeted the rapist with a handshake, a few mumbled words of greeting. And at some point, looking around the house, journal the linoleum brick floor, journal the dark-enameled fake mahogany curio cabinets filled with unmatched china pieces, Hummel sculptures of birds, of children, the old, musty, beige afghan-covered couch, and the dining room chairs with fraying red cushions scattered about, and all the children there for my niece, her cousins, her school friends, her church friends, and I felt a disgust welling up in me like earthworms after a storm, and I realized my complicity in the event, that my presence was saying everything was alright, that we had moved beyond the point of two-families-who-had-once-been-joined-torn-asunder, that we were all putting on masks and airs and that the food cooked by my ex-sister-in-law's mother, the excess of the chickens and cakes and rice dressings and jambalayas and the rabbit stew, and all of the gifts, just spoke to how far we had
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Not fat, just bulky and round. He wears glasses, thick, brown ones. He jesus has thin lips, a flat nose. His bristly, curled hair is cut close to his scalp. His wide head seems to just rest, a lead balloon, on his shoulders. His hands are tough and thick with muscle, his arms rounded with tanned skin from driving around in short sleeves. I don't say these things jesus to condemn the jesus man. He isn't ugly. I just wonder if I would see his doughiness as innocence if he wasn't the rapist, his middle-aged bulk as a sign of self-doubt, finding himself in a relationship with my ex-sister-in-law where there was honestly love, but in the middle of families who despised him for simply being there. But he is the rapist. And every thought of him has that taint.      The point here is that I did shake hands with the rapist. I have always thought of myself as someone who is above the fray, able to see clearly in any situation. Even though my brother's wife left him and started dating the rapist almost immediately, I have always thought that it was for the best, that sometimes marriages don't work out, that if my ex-sister-in-law really went through that tidal shift in her life perspective, then fine, good sailing, go on your way.
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