THE NO SIN ZONE

A NOTE FROM BETTY: Allow me to introduce Prophetess Debbie, who goes to my church, Landover Baptist. Frankly, I became so utterly vexed with my Savior (and that dreadful hick from Alaska) pestering me while I shopped at Neiman-Marcus (it was nothing short of salvation stalking!), I hired Prophetess Debbie to act as a go-between, at least until I’ve finished my holiday shopping. In this way, I will treat my Debbie as the Catholics treat their Mary, as a glorified gofer to take messages to the Lord. A word of warning: Prophetess Debbie tends to speak with unseemly candor. She fails to couch her Republican thoughts in the politically correct, focus-group tested phrases that more sophisticated, savvy right-wing Christians — me! — instinctively employ. In other words, she says thing publicly that are best left behind thick church doors. But please bear with me: There really isn’t a wide selection when it comes to Baptist prophetesses this late in the season!

Hey, you all! Now, darling, I know, in the wake of that sad little election we just had us, this is a time when our country is rightfully resentful of the usurpation of godly-ordained Republican power by Satan’s stooge, the Anti-Christ Barrack Hussein Muhammad Ali Baba Obama. In such a stressful (end) time, it is easy to concentrate on all the bad things dark people do. I would join you, but I simply don’t have that kind of time. But, good gravy, I’m not trying to stop you all from that very healthy, cathartic, truly Republican undertaking.

Instead, what I would like to do is to provide a little balance. You see, the Lord Jesus came to me while I was in the powder room at The Olive Garden (which, I assume, he confused for the Garden of Olives), and He reminded me that people “of color” are not always off color and are surprisingly capable of moments of Christian righteousness.  My stars, He made them sound almost like real, actual Christians!  LOL!!!!!

For example, Proposition 8, banning so-called “gay marriage” in California only passed thanks to the overwhelming support of colored Californians. The sad truth is that, if left to white people, homos in that state would still be free to pretend to be joined in their disgusting “marriages,” the very thought of which make me want to vomit up countless garlicky breadsticks.

To be honest, I was worried that, due to their supposed struggles (dear Lord, when will ever hear the end of that?), Negroes would be more susceptible to choosing so-called “civil rights” over Jewish law. (And, between us chickens, I was also a tish concerned that they would realize that scrupulously enforcing the rules of the Old Testament would open the door to going back to giving the Lord’s helpful hints on beating your slaves in Exodus another go!) Fortunately, I found that most Blacks (or whatever it is they like to be called this week! LOL!) are apt to only fuss over their own so-called “civil rights” and were happy to squash the so-called civil rights of homos, as Jesus would have commanded, had He gotten around to remembering how much He loathes them and everything!

So join me and Jesus in saying, “Thank you, you darling, precious people of colors for giving the homos what for!  But, just so we are clear: This still doesn’t make us even on the whole black president thing. OK?” 

Whenever you see people in a religious cult playing dress-up in foolish costumes, you can bet your bottom tithe that children are being molested. Regardless of whether those cults’ leaders are prohibited from having sex with one wife or encouraged to have sex with a personal brothel full of them, you can be sure that mischief will ensue behind bolted doors. People who need special-ordered outfits to worship usually wind up making their faith about themselves, not God. They also usually have a brand of faith with the authenticity of Cindy McCain’s passion fruit mousse recipe.

Yes, when it comes to its membership, the Catholic Church is bleeding more than some of its plaster statues in Mexico! According to the New York Times, 7.5% of children born into Mary-worshiping, ring-kissing, candle-lighting, knee-bending, statue-venerating, boy-buggering, incense-sniffing, dress-wearing Roman Catholicism have left the cult as adults. Frankly, my only surprise is that they have held on to those that remain. And I say this not just in light of the revelation that the Catholic Church is a bigger facilitator of child molestation than John Mark Karr’s Craigslist postings. While nondenominational church membership has surged by having leaders who are perpetually smiling, the College of Cardinals goes out of its way to ferret out popes who look perpetually constipated. For example, megachurches have figureheads such as friendly, giddily optimistic Joel Osteen, truly the Jack McFarlane of Christianity, Inc., whereas the Mary Worshipers appoint a scowling Nazi Youth ghoul who crossdresses and scares small children. That type of thinking may have worked when church leaders’ faces where rendered in forgiving oils and needlepoint, but it just doesn’t seem wise under the pitiless gaze of HDTV cameras. And, furthermore, I don’t care what the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life says: If there are less Baptists, it is because we kicked that filthy 3.7% out — they were probably caught dancing or otherwise shamelessly enjoying themselves! — not because they decided to leave! Besides, the fact that Heaven will now be 3.7% less congested is welcome news to those of us who invite her fellow human beings to be more scrupulous about respecting personal space. (HINT: My approach to staking out the boundary of personal space is much akin to North Korea’s approach to claiming territorial waters — that is, more than what everyone else in the world has agreed to. TIA!)

Hillary Clinton, who is rather practiced at pretending in public to like someone she yells foul invective about behind closed doors, was all cozy, even coquettish, towards Barrack Obama last night. With her husband muzzled and off camera, Hillary was free to flirt, with eyes that twinkled with an approximation of affection. Barrack responded with chivalry so self-consciously overt, he pulled out Hillary’s chair (this time, not out from under her) before the two held elbows and twittered into each other’s ears, as if at the end of a dreaded first date that had gone surprisingly well. “I’ll call you — and not the b-word this time.”

It was all so disappointingly convivial. More distressingly, it was also such a contrast to what is happening back at the only party God ever goes to — the GOP. Of course, it is no secret that John McCain loathes Mitt Romney. This dislike seems to spring from a resentment that Mitt is even more shameless than John in blithely jettisoning everything he has ever said to better pander to a base that is increasingly playing more hard-to-get. Let’s face it: they both are on a road that only yesterday suddenly careened and took a sharp right. These GOP frontrunners are the Kim Cattrall and Sarah Jessica Parker of politics, only this time Kim will probably wind up with top billing. Romney, the Don Draper of politics, is too wholly artificial to allow any genuine feelings to roil his slick veneer. As such, he doesn’t return McCain’s crotchety, palpably personal animosity.

Fortunately for Romney, that void has been more than filled. I’m not sure if it due to nature or lack of nurture, but the one thing Republicans can do well is hate. We hate reality. We hate foreigners. We hate Hillary Clinton. And we hate John McCain. Born-again James C. Dobson, of Focus on the Family, hates him. Fat-again Rush Limbaugh hates him. And, in an amusing twist, conservatives’ favorite spinster, Ann Coulter, announced that she would vote for Hillary Clinton over John McCain:

Since every syllable that escapes from Ann is said solely to garner attention, one can take this theatric proclamation with a pinch of salt — and a necklace of garlic. As I have long maintained, Ann Coulter is either a very devious, liberal performance artist — or mentally ill. And this latest stunt only serves to make me reevaluate the seemingly sound decision to lean towards the “mentally ill” option. In any event, when it comes to helpful endorsements, that odious blond creature claiming to support Hillary does more to help Obama than a whole Hyannisport compound of Kennedy endorsements.

As any member of the Taliban or citizen of Utah will tell you: Never let your family watch anything but G[od]-rated films. After watching “The Passion of the Christ” 28 times, my children can rip the arms off of a cat without even blinking. But should they be exposed to a film wherein someone says that letter-after-e word or exposes a female breast not being used discreetly to suckle a Savior, they would be so psychologically damaged I’d wind up calling Lynne Spears for parenting advice. And, frankly, that’s a level of desperation no mother wants to find herself in! (Gals, I know what I’m talking about. Several years ago I rather impulsively called Patsy Ramsey for disciplinary pointers when my otherwise adorable, and now dead, dancing/juggling moppet dropped a spinning Franklin Mint “The People’s Princess” commemorative plate during the talent portion of the the Little Miss Blood of the Savagely Flailed Savior Pageant on the 700 Club).

But how does a Christian ensure that the violent movies her family watches are not ruined by potty-mouthed harlots and vile nudity? As I told a crafts workshop at Bringing Integrity To Christian Homemakers, trying to delete the dirty parts on a DVD with a dab of nail polish or a laundry marker takes the type of pinpoint accuracy even a Creator who intended to make the Earth the center of the Universe apparently lacks.

That is why I used to enjoy the services of CleanFlicks, a Utah company that redacted all the offensive parts to films, allowing my family to watch Quentin Tarantino’s complete oeuvre in less time than it took for our popcorn to finish popping in the microwave. It’s like having an anti-bacterial wash for your mind!

Well, imagine my surprise when just this week Daniel Dean Thompson, one of the dealers of CleanFlicks who also formed FlixClub, as similar enterprise devoted to sanitizing movies to comport with Christian standards, was arrested for having sex with underage girls! Being an American Christian, I was just about to instinctively condemn him, when I suddenly realized that he is actually a martyr, a martyr for my fragile sensibilities. After all, somebody had to watch all that filth in my movies to determine what needed to be removed so I wouldn’t be inopportuned by realism. And it was poor Daniel Dean Thompson who did it! No wonder he was driven to the madness of illegal sex. Honestly, do we need any greater proof of the harm caused by watching popular American movies? Jesus and I don’t think so.

Anyone unfortunate enough to listen to presidential politics will realize that there is only one thing upon which the candidates can all agree: 2008’s magic incantation for votes is “C-H-A-N-G-E.” Just slap the word “change” on a bus or some old promises we heard 4 years ago – and 4, 8, 12 and 16 years before that! – and, suddenly, talking about Carter-Era “alternative fuels” becomes revolutionary.

“Change” is a contagious meme so virulent it has spread to those who are often resistant to changing even their underwear (especially if they are magical): Republicans. During the last debates, a Mormon Mannequin in said magic undies, a cross-dressing Former Mayor and one of the few Republicans who has actually been on the painful end of torture all tried to use the word “change” as if it was a poker chip in a furious, drunken game of Texas Hold‘em.

Change. Change! CHANGE! Frankly, it’s all become a bit mechanical and contrived. I don’t know about you, but I treat my votes like I treat my party invitations: I want people to work for them! Unlike Tom Cruise, I’m not some mindless robot preprogrammed to exhibit a Pavlovian response to a focus-group-approved buzz word. And, frankly, being expected to is rather insulting.

Change isn’t always good. Just ask Meg Ryan’s mirror. But after the past seven years of willful ineptitude, the Oval Office would undergo a positive change if it were commandeered by a pet rock, to trot out yet one more banal chestnut from the Carter Era. OK, let’s have change. But let’s start by changing the buzzword!

On the Campaign Trail: Notes from the Back of Betty’s Bentley.

With Huckabee and Obama winning in Iowa, the only thing I can predict with assurance is that 2008 promises an abundance of vowels.

As a bona fide Christian minister, Huckabee is like the Christmas present Republican Evangelicals have been shamelessly dropping hints about for the past thirty years. Now the present is unwrapped and there are murmurs of gift-remorse rippling through the House.

As an evangelical Christian I’m thrilled by Huckabee’s Lazarus-like rise. As a Republican, that enthusiasm is diluted by the discomfort that comes from associating oneself with clowns. But what are we Republicans to do? There is simply no center anymore to hold the more centrifugal elements of the Party close. Instead, the GOP has two disparate sides that don’t trust, or very much like, each other: Busy Rich People and Busybody Evangelicals. Honestly, I worry that a mutual love of money is going to be enough to keep us together.

This makes it rather difficult to find a candidate with broad appeal. We are currently going through the awkward, somewhat irrelevant, period of jostling, when the two sides take turns to elevate a candidate who will annoy or scare the other side of the Grand Old Party. The Evangelicals made sure a heretical Mormon didn’t win in Iowa. Now, Wall Street Republicans, too impressed with Mitt’s $4,000 suits to worry about how magical his undies are underneath, are going to move to block the Evangelicals’ choice, a choice they find rather embarrassing. Huckabee may well represent the future of the more and more puritanical Republican Party, but Baptist preachers have always scared sinners, and rich Republicans are no exception.

All of this bodes very well for John McCain — ironically, because he is the man nobody loves. He is, however, the man many GOPers will settle for, as he neither represents Evangelicals or Wall Street, so choosing him will not be giving in to the side of your own party that annoys you. So we will most likely wind up with everyone’s third or fourth choice. And that, perhaps, explains why the No. 3 Democrat in Iowa — Hillary Clinton, someone no one has blandly neutral feelings about – finished with the equivalent of more votes than the GOP’s No. 1 pick.

Mark my words: These are End Times indeed for the GOP!