Day Fifty-One: Djesus Uncrossed
by Tom Noonan
I often write in hyperbole, but this is only because I like to write about things other people may get marginally excited for in the tone of my own thoughts on said topic. What I’m trying to say, I guess, is that I, not unlike most Fox News pundits, think mostly in hyperbole. This being said, I have always been a staunch supporter of Saturday Night Live. Starting around my freshman year of high school, before my Saturday nights moved into iPod-speaker pumping basements and the bottoms of Solo cups, I started watching Saturday Night Live with a handful of kids I met because I chose, pretty much by default, to run cross-country when I realized I couldn’t be around the sport of soccer. We’d usually fuck around all night, playing video games and lobbing insults about each other’s dick size or various religious observances, and end up tuning in to see SNL.
It was a weird show to be so committed to, especially at that point, when the show was switching onto the viral life-support of day-after buzzclip viewing rather than expecting a real, live audience to be watching anywhere outside its studio. We even would start watching it around midnight, after it started airing, so we could skip most of the commercial breaks. It was more of a social experience than active viewing, something we could easily talk over and no one would get upset. SNL, for us, was the anti-thesis of LOST, and we all unknowingly appreciated that aspect. Since then, even after my weekend focus switched from Seth Meyers’ update to figuring out where I was going to sleep, I’ve tried to watch SNL regularly, usually in my crowded common room, with one headphone on, talking to multiple people while I do it.
Then last night (or this afternoon, because I no longer watch it live) happened. The Host: Christoph Waltz. The Sketch: Djesus Uncrossed. The H: Silent.
The sketch reached instant classic levels when it did this to Fred Armisen’s head:
But then it did this:
“E-leven a-posltes” (All of them brought baseball bats)
And then this:
“I’m gonna go Old Testament on his ass”
And of course:
The impressions were spot on, but, more importantly, every piece of the fake trailer fit perfectly in on the joke. AND THEN:
That’s Jesus, standing on water, firing two handguns at the camera. Oh, and that fake quote, is from Peter Travers, this guy. This is why Saturday Night Live was created. For this sketch. For this image. Christoph Waltz deserves all the Emmys.