Thursday, December 21, 2006

Everything’s been sold to others’ revolutions

Yes, I am the person you’ve seen picketing at the car factories in Detroit. And at the rubber-glove factories in Malaysia. And at the security-harness factories in Taiwan. I have been getting quite a lot of press about my signs that call for the president to cut federal funding to these industries and the sinful, sinful groups that buy their products. I figure that it worked for the AIDS funding we used to send to Africa to promote condom use, so it’s worth a try.

I am vehemently opposed to car bumpers. So is everyone else who goes to my church. Bumpers encourage bad driving. For proof, you need look no further than my car: When a stranger rear-ended me, which part of the car do you think he smashed into? The bumper, of course! He damaged his own front bumper and my back bumper. Clearly, he saw that we both had bumpers, and he decided that he could drive recklessly on our icy roads. And what did he learn from the experience? Nothing, of course! His car wasn’t destroyed, as any God-fearing car without a bumper would have been. He is probably out there having indiscriminate car accidents, leaving a trail of heartbreak. What a terrible story. It could have been avoided if neither of us had bumpers. Then we could have removed his DNA from our gene poo – I mean, we could have mourned this beautiful, created being, fully secure in the knowledge that we are much better than he is.

Rubber gloves are a sure ticket to hell. They encourage people to touch other people who are possibly infected with God only knows what. In MY day, we threw stones at lepers. We certainly didn’t touch them, and nobody gave us rubber gloves to “protect” us. I’m telling you, if people are sick, it is because they are supposed to be that way. It is all part of a plan that is so huge that your puny mind can’t comprehend it. Don’t touch these people. For goodness’ sake, don’t put on rubber gloves and think that you will be safe. I won’t allow rubber gloves anywhere near me, and I don’t recommend that you wear them, either.

The company that owns my building is doing repairs to the outside. This requires the use of scaffolding. I’m completely in favour of scaffolding, especially when used in the execution of atheists whose degenerate lifestyles have encouraged them to lead lives of crime. But in this case, the scaffolding is being used to allow the workers to reach the second floor windows. That’s OK; I’m willing to accept that. What I can’t accept is the fact that they wear safety harnesses. SAFETY HARNESSES. That’s an oxymoron if I ever heard one. These harnesses are tools of the devil. They make people think they are safe. I bet that the people who wear them are actually LESS safe. They are probably more willing to take risks than the God-fearing workers who can be certain that they are risking their lives by stepping too close to the edge: “No need to worry about me! I’ve got my safety harness on! AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” That sickening crash you hear is the tear forming in the Lord’s eye. People with crushed skulls aren’t allowed to enter heaven. The Lord saves those whose spirits are crushed, but I don’t recall anything about crushed skulls. Sucks to be you. Obviously, the way to avoid eternal damnation is to stay away from safety harnesses altogether.

I hope I’ve made you think about the horrors of your own deviant life. While you’re at it, pull out your checkbook and donate money to the president’s abstinence-only AIDS programs.

Saturday, December 16, 2006

Pagan festivals

Greetings, stiff-necked sinners:

A few of you have asked about Michael's so-called Christmas concert and its obviously non-Christian purpose. You are correct: Tuesday's concert is not a religious occasion. And I could not be happier about it. You see, as soon as you bring religion into a school event like this one, you have to acknowledge OTHER religions, and I just can't have that.

Religion is the one thing that you can't mock, no matter how weird it is. You could say something that's obviously wrong, like that God forgives sinners like you, and I would have to nod piously and say "I respect that." Well, I won't be respecting anyone else's religion, thank you very much. Everything in my religion is true. I know this because my religion SAYS that everything in it is true. This is also how I can be certain that your religion is wrong. It's simple logic. We can't both be right. Therefore, you must be wrong.

You see, everyone here knows that you are constantly committing wicked acts to vex the Lord. I would expel you from this holy land myself, were it not for our liberal laws that allow you to stay. And I can't let you sully this Christmas season with your made-up religious stories. For this reason, I am selflessly willing to forgo my own 100% true religious stories. I can't allow you equal time. You might sway one of the faithful, and then only 143,999 of us would get to go to heaven. An empty seat in heaven is a tear in the Lord's eye.

So I'm just thrilled to attend non-religious school concerts and to greet you with "Happy Holidays". That way, I'm able to pretend that it's all about the one true religion, instead of the vomit-inducing tripe that passes for your own view of the world.

Sunday, December 10, 2006

Getting closer

Friends, we are getting closer to the rapture and some of you are getting nervous. You have to trust me on this. If our own Prime Minister is saying the same-sex-marriage debate is over, the sky is sure to open soon. If there's anything that can't be allowed to sully this beautiful earth, it's gay marriage. Six thousand years of perfection have made us arrogant. We think we're smarter than God. And I could not be happier about it, because it means that you heathens are going to burn and I am going to get to live on a cloud with Jesus. I will probably get my own unicorn. You, on the other hand, will be picking dead animals out of the sea after it turns to blood. That won't be a problem for me: I'll be drinking living water. Sucks to be you.

This brings me to the concerns my readers have expressed. I've already reassured you that I've made arrangements for someone to take over the blog after I've been taken up into heaven. Apparently, this is not good enough for some of you godless sodomites. When you're not busy worshipping demons, you're hassling me about the identity of the person who will be taking over the blog. Apparently, you don't like ghostwriters.

Now, I don't think you're taking your situation seriously enough. Believe me, when the locusts are stinging you, this will be the least of your worries. You are going to be tormented with burning sulfur, and I will get to watch. I know how this makes you feel: I myself could burst with excitement just at the thought of it. I wish the president would just drop an atomic bomb and hurry things along, but apparently this is not to be. It makes sense, because no man knows the hour of the rapture, and I suppose that would include the president. In the meantime, we are forced to wait hour after hour after hour until 10:30 AM, when Wheel of Fortune comes on. Then we start waiting again at 11:00.

I am trying SO HARD to make things easier for you, and this is the thanks I get? You are definitely the WORST sinners I have ever met. I would have thought that you would be grateful for the help I've offered to you. Just wait until someone writes MOTHER OF PROSTITUTES AND OF THE ABOMINATIONS OF THE EARTH on your forehead. You'll be happy to have anything else to read, ingrates.

No, I am not going to reveal his identity. He deserves his privacy. If I tell you who it is, he will probably not be able to leave his house without having to fight off paparazzi trying to get pictures of his personal regions. You should be focusing on the log in your own eye before you try to pick at the speck in my eye. And trust me, it's a VERY SMALL SPECK.