The Miracle of the Bleeding Cross

This Easter weekend devout members of LA's own Cacophony Society took the opportunity to remember the holiday's biblical origins with "The Miracle of the Bleeding Cross." This gore-spattered passion play drew over one hundred pilgrims to an east Hollywood parking lot behind Mondo Video/Archaic Idiots.

The figure of Christ on this particular Bleeding Cross, allegedly borrowed from a Italian Benedictine monastery, did indeed bleed copiously both from wounds around its' crown of thorns and from the spear wound in its' side. Its' unpredictable spurts and dribbles were accompanied by harmonium rave-ups provided by Kappelmeister Kirby, the cheap rattle of imitation thunder, and an ugly sort of belching sound from within the holy chest cavity. Skeptics noted a curious correspondence between the spurts of blood and the huffing and puffing of alterably Donovan seated only slightly out of view and hyperventilating into a plastic tube.

A Mass of sorts, conducted by Rev. Al, degenerated into a frenzied altar call as supplicants came forward to touch the holy blood and be healed. Crutches were dropped, and a case of crabs was cured by a squirt into the open pants. A curious dog, even came forward to lick the sticky substance (which some believed to be boysenberry snow-cone syrup.) Eventually, the blood supply was openly replaced by wine, encouraging parking lot pilgrims to lap their communion straight from the wounds of Christ. Even the timid were given their chance to share the blessings as a wine-drenched Rev. Al charged into the furthest reaches of the crowd, wielding the cross like a divine squirt gun.

"This year was indeed a special one," notes Rev. Al, "in that April Fool's Day happened to coincide with Good Friday, we felt it would be irresponsible of us to let this coincidence pass by unnoticed."

-- Max Maude