THE NO SIN ZONE

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Jesus just told me, with suspicious cheerfulness, that it is so-called “Gay Pride” this weekend. Since God created me in His image, I have selflessly devoted my life to passing on the favor by trying to make everyone just like me. As such, nothing is more galling than people I don’t approve of being happy. And I would not be a True Christian™ (aka Baptist) if I didn’t view other people feeling content as a ripe opportunity to besmirch them, leech out their joy in Jesus’ name — and then and make some tax-free cash! Therefore, I encourage all homos this weekend to drunkenly climb down off those garish floats and sign an irrevocable $9,899 contract with my ex-gay ministry: BASH — Baptists Are Saving Homosexuals! Building on the qualified success of my Ex-Negro Ministry, BASH has helped countless* gay men to find frumpy lesbian wives and renounce the silly, annoying hobby of being who they are! [*almost one!]

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?” 

Meet Tonya Jenkins. She died of shock this morning. You see, the poor thing had spent the past two years getting all of her information from Sean Hannity. She would then go to her favorite website, Free Republic, and read thousands and thousands and thousands of vitriolic posts, all containing no facts inconsistent with Mr. Hannity’s and no opinions that caused Tonya to rethink her own.  

Tonya went to bed last night with a tumbler of cold tequila and a head full of comfy knowledge. She knew that the Lord Jesus would answer her prayer to never let no colored Muslim communist terrorist be no durn president. She was certain she would wake up to find that sassy Sarah Palin and her running mate, a wonderfully mavericky war hero, had been elected instead. In her Christian heart, Tonya was confident that Americans were every bit as racist as Republicans hoped they’d turn out to be, as the much discussed, posted about and wished for “Bradley Effect” would work its reactionary magic at the polls. 

But this morning at work, Tonya got sloppy. Maybe she was tired. Maybe just a bit hungover. Whatever the cause for her lapse, she became infected by the Liberal Elite Mainstream Media. As she carelessly bused her table, she inadvertently glanced at a New York Times a suspiciously informed dinner had mischievously left behind. Sensing danger, she tried to look away, but it was too late. She’d already read the headline. Before she could blindfold herself with the rag she was using to wipe the table and repeat her “la la la la MR. FACTS I DON’T HEAR YOU!  la la ” incantation, inconvenient information had already burrowed into her head like anthrax spores. Poor Tonya’s bitter heart just couldn’t take the shock: The America of FoxNews and her favorite right wing website wasn’t the America she was walking and breathing in. Before I could call out “But Florida and California still hate the homos!” to revive her, she was gone.

My dear friend Janet L. Folger at Faith2Action called me last night. As usual, she was furious — and drunk. Two of Fred Phelps‘ loud and vulgar relatives have been invited to speak at a debate about Amendment 2 (against so-called “gay” marriage) in Florida.

As America’s Best Christian, I have devoted my life — and your generous tithes — to adding a glossy, coy sheen to the message that Jesus hates people who are not exactly like me in every respect.

I join Faith2Action in being appalled that those odious Phelps Sisters (not to be confused with the charmingly limber duo who juggled Fiesta® Ware while licking their own ankles in chiffon on the Lawrence Welk show) have been invited to Florida to rant and froth about Amendment 2. As a deliciously naughty Jesus is wont to remark, “Those gals are a pair of braying bumpkins no longer on speaking terms with mental health — or mirrors!” And, in contradistinction to me, Faith2Action, and Focus on Wringing Cash from Families, et al., these dowdy gargoyles lack the sophistication to couch their livid distaste for others in a more careful, media-friendly manner.

As founder of the world’s most profitable ex-gay ministry, BASH (Baptists Are Saving Homosexuals), I must support Amendment 2. After all, anything that can denigrate and delegitimize the hobby of being a homosexual, can only lead to less gays feeling secure and happy and, therefore, more likely to tithe at one of my many BASH franchises! (Look for my new BASH kiosk in Coral Gables!) Besides, since evangelical Christians have the highest divorce rates in the country (even higher than those dreadful Mary-Worshipers or hellbound atheists!), it behooves us to do everything possible to make sure that the gays don’t show us up by having happy, long marriages!

But I think the Phelps sisters have clearly gone several steps too far in their zeal for ostracizing homosexuals from their lives. One look at their bought-off-a-pegboard make-up, permed-over-a-kitchen-sink hair and unfortunate “House of Polygamist Compound” couture, it is clear that the one thing these gals need more than no gay marriages is a battalion of gay stylists!

So close to Jesus, I’ve seen the Polaroid of Fred that Drove the Phelps Sisters to Crazyville,

Mrs. Betty Bowers

While John McCain may be rethinking his lackadaisical decision to outsource the vetting of Sarah Palin to the more curious American press, I’ve really enjoyed watching all these surprising layers peel off of the panglossian pioneer we were introduced to only last week. Looking a bit like one of those stock and staid librarians in movies, the one who is only moments away from removing her glasses and liberating a thick, lustrous mane of hair with a seductive snap of the neck while stripper music trumpets on the surround-sound, Palin exudes a sense that she is always about to reveal something unexpected before our startled eyes. And the really fun part: I have a hunch she’ll only know what that something is moments before we do. But, of course, weeks before John McCain will.

What I have enjoyed witnessing to a far lesser degree has been my fellow evangelical Republicans’ response to Palin’s energetic striptease of embarrassing information. It seems that the very idea of Dick Cheney’s office being redecorated with moose throws and baby seal pelt doilies by a ferociously ambitious MILF from Alaska has rendered a group of professional faultfinders and scolds mawkishly carefree, giddy in their eagerness to forgive. With a mix of opportunism and testosterone, habitual chiders like James Dobson are swooning over Palin, light-headedly jostling to anoint and absolve.  The GOP’s rehabilitation of poor, maligned Murphy Brown has been as blithe as it has been sudden.

Yes, in many ways Sarah is our kind of gal. Her first priority when she began her contentious reign as the amusingly vindictive mayor of a small, snowy town? Try to ban books at the local library that contained the type of naughty words that so rudely besmirch the English language’s great literature! And, yes, Palin embraces the God of our President and Party, a God who is more likely to fritter away His day romantically daydreaming about a $30 billion gas pipeline than plucking a victim of one of His hurricanes out of a capsized canoe.

But it is not this shared (and profitable) vision of a mercantile God that has evangelicals verbally petting Palin like a pack of Emo youths whose ecstasy has just kicked in. No, their ardor springs solely from a rather discrete source revealed rather indiscreetly: She’s fixated on bringing every embryo she comes near to term. And she has created an “abstinence only from condoms” family that recklessly makes it its mission to ensure that there will be plenty of them, wanted or, as in the case of the last two, not.

Apparently, according to many of my fellow evangelicals, Palin could hold up a liquor store naked on a meth-binge just as long as she and her underage daughter keep pushing out the young’uns! According to Dobson, “The media are already trying to spin this as evidence Gov. Palin is a ‘hypocrite,’ but all it really means is that she and her family are human.”

But perhaps the biggest hypocrite in this story is Dobson. Is he now casting the issues of unwed pregnancy and teenage sex as inconsequential trifles, to be carelessly thrown under John McCain’s Straight Jacket Express? After all, he has quickly scolded unwed mothers in the past, showing a far less happy-go-lucky, “stuff happens” insouciance to “values.” [And speaking of scolding unwed teenage mothers: What, exactly, is the holdup on setting a date, Bristol, dear? Is it a busy-as-bee caterer – or an election, after which the boyfriend who doesn’t want kids can go back to college?]

Imagine the horror and tut-tutting if Barack Obama had a pregnant daughter (well, that and the probable interest by the New England Journal of Medicine). Do you think Dobson would fawn over the news – perhaps, encourage Miss Obama to have a few more? Probably not. Remember how he famously lit into Mary Cheney for having a child without being married to a man? Now, wait. Does that mean that this isn’t partisan pandering after all, just saying whatever claptrap is needed to get a Republican to pick some more wild-about-fetuses Supreme Court justices? Oh, how foolish! What was I thinking? Mary, while a Republican, is, moreover, a homo. And, in evangelical circles, being a homosexual is about the only thing as potent as being pro-fetus: The former condemns with the ease the latter absolves.