Hollywood Idiot and Holy Man Mel Gibson has cast aside his religious and material accoutrements, spurned his lustful passions and announced He will go forth as Jesus did in simplicity and love, and He spake his first sermon from a barren Malibu, CA hilltop, preaching to the gathered throng, "F–king Jews…the Jews are responsible for all the wars in the world."

The rabble hemmed and hawed amongst themselves at these remarks. Some jotted the words spoken by Him down on note paper. Others repeated the words out loud while rocking to and fro and occasionally bumping their neighbor. Then an odd disruption was heard from in the back as an attentive listener became dismayed at the rabble's excessive chatter:

 

MR. BIG NOSE: Will you be quiet?!
MEL GIBSON (On the speaking mound): You motherf—-r. I'm going to f— you…
MRS. BIG NOSE: Don't pick your nose.
MR. BIG NOSE:I wasn't picking my nose. I was scratching.
MRS. BIG NOSE:You was picking it, while you was talking to that lady.
MR. BIG NOSE:I wasn't!
MRS. BIG NOSE:Leave it alone. Give it a rest.
MR. CHEEKY: Do you mind? I can't hear a word he's saying.
MRS. BIG NOSE: Don't you 'do you mind' me. I was talking to my husband.
MR. CHEEKY: Well, go and talk to him somewhere else. I can't hear a bloody thing.
MR. BIG NOSE: Don't you swear at my wife.
MR. CHEEKY: I was only asking her to shut up, so I can hear what he's saying, Big Nose.
MRS. BIG NOSE: Don't you call my husband 'Big Nose'!
MR. CHEEKY: Well, he has got a big nose.
GREGORY:Could you be quiet, please?
MEL GIBSON (faintly in the distance): What do you think you're looking at, sugar t-ts?

—Life of Brian

Just as He was slathering up for more of a spittle inducing rampage of meekness and foulmouthed racist remarks, soldiers appeared and hauled Him off the Malibu hilltop at spear point and arrested Him for inciting the people to hatred and debauchery.

Mel Gibson, a fraud and hypocrite who is painted over as a "troubled man," a "religious man," and a man of "vision." The alcohol induced anti-semitic tirade was what he said, and so it is what he believes. If the words he strung together were assembled through happenstance because he was drunk, then why this particular pattern of angry rhetoric? Why not, "What a beautiful night, officers! Why, thank you for pulling me over, my life is out of control and I need help?"

Gibson, as the devoutly religious man who knows better than the Catholic Church, has built his own church in Malibu with sermons entirely in Latin with the priest flown in from Seattle once a week. If Gibson is so strongly traditionally Catholic in his views, why subsist in the hotbed of perversity that is Los Angeles and participate in inflicting the media's outlook of destruction, death, and sexual frivolity on his fellow mankind?

Like Pirates of the Caribbean, or Harry Potter, Gibson's The Passion of the Christ was the "must see" blockbuster for the crass of heart. A movie which with its "stunning violence" and "emotional hammer blows" neither captures the message or mystery of Jesus.

Gibson's vision is thoroughly blurred from his alcoholism, his speaking tainted from his chain smoking, and his quest for living religiously a fraud. He should indeed drop his many material and religious accoutrements and become more devout and genuine, such as Saint Francis of Assisi did.