You've gotta give the sculptor credit for detail. The contortion of the face The anguish in the eyes. The streams of blood tracing perfect contours over the torn body, pouring from the thorns, the riven torso, the teeth, the eyes, the ears, the cock. The realism is striking. There's blood everywhere. The little girl in the front pew says "They call it a sacrifice to God, mister. But they don't believe in God, mister..." You can barely see the cross beneath all the blood. There's no face or body at all. Just blood. Everywhere. The girl isn't there and she asks "What would Jesus do, mister?" Fucking bleed.