Bomb Throwing Pacifist

If you took that happy, smiling guy from the box of Quaker Oats, handed him a bottle of gin and a rifle, and pissed him off to a point where he decided he wasn't going to take it anymore, you'd get a little something like this.

Monday, September 18, 2006

Domo Arigato, Mr. Roboto

Now kids, I know that you have all missed me greatly and that yes, it has been a while since my last post. There is, however a plausible explanation which fully explains my absence. However, never fear! Even as we speak events hidden from the eyes of ordinary men are unfolding that will soon bring ultimate victory within our grasp. Or at least, make things a whole helluva lot funnier around here. Details to follow eventually. In the meantime, I bring you a little something to whet your appetite.

Her name is Janet L. Folger. She likes reading poetry, long walks on the beach, and running over Family Planning Services providers in her Hummer. I made up one of those three items. Your mission today is to guess which (I’ll give you a hint though: she really hates sand). In any case, on with the show!

Welcome to the criminalization of Christianity
By Janet L. Folger
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As I sat in the hearing room, I felt a cold chill – like the chilling effect this court-martial will have on our free speech.

As I sat at my desk reading that opening sentence, I felt a scream of pain echoing across the dimensional plains as yet another really shitty analogy was birthed, kicking and screaming, into this cosmos. Surely, Ragnarok draws nigh.

For this analogy to be accurate, however, I would need to be sitting in a freezer.

As long as you’re going to be sitting in a freezer, I suggest you try one with a temperature setting or about zero degrees Kelvin. At that temperature (also known as “absolute zero”), the kinetic energy of particles within a system drops to nothing and thus everything- including your mouth, fingers, and vocal cords- becomes completely immobile on the molecular level. Sure, we might run the risk down the road of having some cosmic supervillian find you, thaw you out, and bring you back to life to act as his evil galactic co-ruler and consort, but at least we could blast your freezer-cum-sarcophagus out into space and thus assure ourselves of at least a few million years of peace and quiet.

At issue in the court-martial of Lt. Gordon James Klingenschmitt, chaplain for the United States Navy, is a name and the freedom to speak it. That name is Jesus. And, according to this week's ruling, the freedom to speak it depends on the context.

I see your first amendment freedom of speech clause and raise you the establishment and free exercise clause. That, I believe, is trump.

Before I could go through the metal detectors to get to the courtroom, a Navy official had already taken Jesus' name in vain. No trial for that. No penalty. No problem.

Damn straight! I know what I woulda done under similar circumstances. I’d have whipped out my sjambok and gone all Mutaween on his disrespectful ass. Damn this separation of church and state thing!

This case is really about Navy Secretary Donald C. Winter, who ordered that every chaplain in the Navy worship his god – the "government god" of "non-sectarian" goodness who has no name and certainly no son by whom someone might be offended.

Whoa. I had no idea that Donald Winter was such a deist. At this rate, it can’t be much longer before we have temples dedicated to the Cult of Reason and to the Chief Architect of the Universe. While I was fully aware that the Bush administration loved the Committee of Public Safety method of government so popular during the French Revolution and the Reign of Terror, I had no idea that their religious ideology was so influenced as well.

But Chaplain Klingenschmitt told Navy Secretary Nebuchadnezzar, uh, I mean Winter, that he couldn't bow to his government god and had to proclaim the God of the Bible – who has a Son with an illegal name.

Spreaking of illegal names, I do wonder what happened to that Jesus guy that used to work down at the Salvadoran Restaurant on South Glebe Road. That guy always made the best pupusas.

On a side note, so long as we are dealing with biblical analogies here, I guess that the only really appropriate response at this point is for Navy Secretary Nebuchadnezzar to have Chaplain Shadrach thrown into a roaring furnace and waiting to see if an angel will come to deliver him instead of letting him burn to death. I mean, it’s only fair. Besides, who wants to deal with all of that pagan “trial by jury” crap when you can have a good old-fashioned Judeo-Christian trial by ordeal instead?

Mentioning Jesus in the chapel (you know, that building with the cross on top), they said, is just "too exclusive." Just who was it that hung on that cross depicted on the official Navy chaplain uniform, again?

You mean this one?

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And now, five years after we were attacked, our troops are fighting overseas for the freedom of those who pray in the name of Allah at the same time a U.S. chaplain has been court-martialed for praying in the name of Jesus on American soil. Does anyone besides me see something wrong with this?

Um, you mean besides the fact that we are supposedly “fighting overseas for the freedom of those who pray in the name of Allah?” I can’t help but detect a bitter note of jealousy in Ms. Folger’s voice. After all, we went to war and gave them the freedom to establish their very own Islamic republic in Iraq, and all we got out of it was this (ever-so-slightly) secular democracy. Damn.

On Monday, Sept. 11, 2006, we gathered to sing "God Bless America," but how likely do you think God will continue to bless us if we are forbidden from using His Son's name?

Heh, indizzle. After all, if you follow that line of reasoning (bravely pioneered by our dear friend Jerry Falwell), the fact that we continue to sing “God Bless America” is the only reason He hasn’t decided to smite us with yet another terrorist attack for refusing to return to our gay-stoning, witch-burning ways. And don’t you even think about breaking into that communistic Woody Guthrie “This Land is Your Land” crap, no on his watch. Seriously. According to your logic, the Big Man has just killed 3000 of your fellow citizens and the best thing you can do is drop down on your knees and thank him for being so lenient and kind? Talk about battered wife syndrome.

And where is our beloved commander in chief? The man I worked to elect, who personally told me that the "most important thing" I could do for him was to pray? Cannot our military have that same "most important" right?

I saw this thing on Newsmax which said that the ACLU was implanting specially programmed chips into all military personnel’s heads so that if they detect a prayer, they are set to explode and take out the offending serviceman or servicewoman before they can give props to the Almighty. True story.

His number, by the way, is 202-456-1414

Call between 1 and 3pm, Monday through Thursday. That’s usually the best time to catch him between his bike rides and hours spent blacked out, cuddled up next to a bottle of Wild Turkey. I suppose you can always leave a message on his voicemail, but try not to be too offended by his voice memo. He thinks fart jokes are funny.

As I was leaving the airport in Norfolk, I saw an advertisement that read: "America will always be the home of the free because it is the land of the brave." When I read it, I cried … because America is no longer the land of the free.

Hey, don’t blame me. I voted for the other guy.

Thankfully, there are still are brave Americans like Chaplain Klingenschmitt. If you are among the brave left in the land of the free, I urge you with everything in me to use your freedom while you still can.

Because she’s one of the spineless wonders that has ruined it for us and still cries every time she sees a freaking life insurance commercial. For God’s sake woman, drink some water, smell your salts, slap a few more yellow ribbons on your Hummer, and get a hold of yourself!

Of course, you have "the right to remain silent," but if you use that right much longer, those are the words you'll hear before you see the inside of a prison cell. Because if they criminalize Chaplain Klingenschmitt today, tomorrow it's you.

At the time I thought I would finish off this piece with a nice, ripping explosion of snarky flavor as a fitting reward for those of you who managed to slog it through to the end. However, after reading over these last two sentences, I decided I couldn’t quite figure out what the hell she is trying to say. Seriously. As such, I decided that the best thing to do would be to sub in a closing statement that, while just as incomprehensible as this one, requires a whole lot less thought and, to be honest, gravitas. Mr. Roboto, take it away!

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I’m top player hater from Korea! You bitches better recognize! He looks like a broke-ass Sexual Chocolate.

Marc with a C, 5:50 PM


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