Children of a Loucher God
Today on the way in I tuned in to Radio Pulpit for my morning instruction. A tough day loomed, and I was in need of some sober words filled with sage advice. Instead I got Joyce Meyer of Joyce Meyer Ministries (http://www.joycemeyer.org) - another syndicated American evangelist - telling me about the importance of knowing oneself through God. Joyce has a commandingly musical voice - at least insofar as she sounds like someone trying to cut through an entire brass band with a rasp. Oddly, the more she spoke about knowing oneself, the more she seemed to be talking about herself. She sure gives those first person pronouns a good trotting-out. And, lest God felt under-represented, she thoughtfully gave him a mention or two as well. And, oh man, do those studio audiences have a low humour threshold. I'll bet she has some wickedly funny expressions.
Now Joyce is one of those impressive spin-preachers who can find a relevant piece in the Bible to provide guidance on anything whatsoever. Having trouble managing your clients' expectations? Thessalonians has a whole section on that. Can't get Windows to detect your printer properly? Don't worry, Leviticus was all over it.
Yet despite her subtle self-aggrandisement and quasi-psychological mumbo-jumbo, I respect Joyce: She has a sound business model, reminding me that there is good old-fashioned capitalism at work in all things. Anyone who can find a way to make a packet out of getting people to listen to them talk crap, deserves to do well. A tax on silly people.
When we came to the conclusion of today's part x of n of Joyce's latest series, Radio Pulpit quickly swung into their children's programming. The listenership was encouraged to phone in and sing their Favourite Jesus Song.
At this point the clouds parted and I received a vision. If Eloquent Profanity was a dark and outspoken god, his earthly conduit would be a very singular man by the name of Frisco. A comrade-in-arms in a low-key war against a subversive mediocrity, Frisco favours grandly pithy, crowd-stopping pronouncements. If a situation conceals an uncomfortable truism, he will wrest it free from its protective civilities, and flagrantly expose it for all to behold. Eloquent Profanity would look down with tears in his eyes as his unscrupulous lieutenant happily trod all over convention, stuck his fingers in the eyes of propriety and kicked etiquette squarely in the nuts; and he would sigh contentedly knowing that the world was safe and that nothing was sacred so long as Frisco the Defiler was on hand to desecrate it.
Now I imagined the scene had Frisco joined the phone-in with his Favourite Jesus Song, for I fear I know exactly what it would be. It was a favourite of his and J-Man's from their days at Rhodes University and it is gaily chanted to the theme
of the Mickey Mouse Club. The scene plays out:
Adult Presenter: "Let's have our next caller!"
Annoying androgynous child presenter actually voiced by a squeaky adult: "Yay!"
Frisco: "Hello."
Child Presenter: "And what is your name?"
Frisco: "Frisco."
Child Presenter: "Woo-hoo! What town do you live in?"
Frisco: "Pretoria."
Child Presenter: "That's so wonderful! Don't you absolutely love your town!"
Frisco: "No."
Adult Presenter: "Okay, great, Frisco, we'll count you in!"
Child Presenter: "4! 3! 2! 1!"
Frisco: (in gleeful, booming baritone) "Who's the owner of the gland that's thrusting into me? S-A-T! A-N-I! S-L-O-R-D! Hey there! Hi there! Ho there! It's as natural as can be: S-A-T! A-N-I! S-L-O-R-D!"
Adult Presenter: ...
Child Presenter: ...
10000 Shocked Housewives and their confused children: ...
Frisco: "I was actually channeling a dark god on that last bit. Heh."
And in the distance a churchmouse went "squeak"...
I suspect that if Real Jesus were to actually appear in the present day, he'd much rather park off and get boozed and talk emergent principles in the sciences with me and Frisco, than get overwhelmed by the John MacArthurs and Joyce Meyers of the world and be made to explain things like what He was doing between the ages of 12 and 30, why he said one thing in Luke and another in Matthew, and what we should do about all those pesky Iraqis, etc., etc. If Jesus really wanted to test their faith, he should come back as a dope-smoking, homosexual, Mexican Muslim hip-hop artist, teaching an undergraduate evolutionary biology course in Ohio.
I think they'd crucify him.
Now Joyce is one of those impressive spin-preachers who can find a relevant piece in the Bible to provide guidance on anything whatsoever. Having trouble managing your clients' expectations? Thessalonians has a whole section on that. Can't get Windows to detect your printer properly? Don't worry, Leviticus was all over it.
Yet despite her subtle self-aggrandisement and quasi-psychological mumbo-jumbo, I respect Joyce: She has a sound business model, reminding me that there is good old-fashioned capitalism at work in all things. Anyone who can find a way to make a packet out of getting people to listen to them talk crap, deserves to do well. A tax on silly people.
When we came to the conclusion of today's part x of n of Joyce's latest series, Radio Pulpit quickly swung into their children's programming. The listenership was encouraged to phone in and sing their Favourite Jesus Song.
At this point the clouds parted and I received a vision. If Eloquent Profanity was a dark and outspoken god, his earthly conduit would be a very singular man by the name of Frisco. A comrade-in-arms in a low-key war against a subversive mediocrity, Frisco favours grandly pithy, crowd-stopping pronouncements. If a situation conceals an uncomfortable truism, he will wrest it free from its protective civilities, and flagrantly expose it for all to behold. Eloquent Profanity would look down with tears in his eyes as his unscrupulous lieutenant happily trod all over convention, stuck his fingers in the eyes of propriety and kicked etiquette squarely in the nuts; and he would sigh contentedly knowing that the world was safe and that nothing was sacred so long as Frisco the Defiler was on hand to desecrate it.
Now I imagined the scene had Frisco joined the phone-in with his Favourite Jesus Song, for I fear I know exactly what it would be. It was a favourite of his and J-Man's from their days at Rhodes University and it is gaily chanted to the theme
of the Mickey Mouse Club. The scene plays out:
Adult Presenter: "Let's have our next caller!"
Annoying androgynous child presenter actually voiced by a squeaky adult: "Yay!"
Frisco: "Hello."
Child Presenter: "And what is your name?"
Frisco: "Frisco."
Child Presenter: "Woo-hoo! What town do you live in?"
Frisco: "Pretoria."
Child Presenter: "That's so wonderful! Don't you absolutely love your town!"
Frisco: "No."
Adult Presenter: "Okay, great, Frisco, we'll count you in!"
Child Presenter: "4! 3! 2! 1!"
Frisco: (in gleeful, booming baritone) "Who's the owner of the gland that's thrusting into me? S-A-T! A-N-I! S-L-O-R-D! Hey there! Hi there! Ho there! It's as natural as can be: S-A-T! A-N-I! S-L-O-R-D!"
Adult Presenter: ...
Child Presenter: ...
10000 Shocked Housewives and their confused children: ...
Frisco: "I was actually channeling a dark god on that last bit. Heh."
And in the distance a churchmouse went "squeak"...
I suspect that if Real Jesus were to actually appear in the present day, he'd much rather park off and get boozed and talk emergent principles in the sciences with me and Frisco, than get overwhelmed by the John MacArthurs and Joyce Meyers of the world and be made to explain things like what He was doing between the ages of 12 and 30, why he said one thing in Luke and another in Matthew, and what we should do about all those pesky Iraqis, etc., etc. If Jesus really wanted to test their faith, he should come back as a dope-smoking, homosexual, Mexican Muslim hip-hop artist, teaching an undergraduate evolutionary biology course in Ohio.
I think they'd crucify him.
posted by Thor Harley at 9:46 am
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