Sins of the Father

Monday, December 17th, 2012.

I preface this blog entry with a date for a reason. You see, for six straight days, I've held my emotions in check. No one has seen what I've been feeling.

I made it nearly seven days. Yeah, that sounds almost like a line from 'Cheeseburger in Paradise', I know. Nearly. But, in emotions and anger reminiscent of manic days when I'd repeatedly punch brick walls until my knuckles were bloody, beaten, bruised or broken, I've faltered.

One is strong in one's own mind until the unthinkable or unexpected happens. For me, that was the unexpected death of my father, my dad... six days ago. And, being the way I am with a mind such as I possess, I felt the need to be 'strong', 'resilient', a pillar of strength. Ha! I pity the fool!

Then, on the heels of my own unthinkable personal loss, the senseless murder and loss of elementary school children in Connecticut.

Oh wait, lest I forget, add to that the total stupidity, inane mentality and inbred fucktardedness of the Westboro Baptist Church and their satanic minions as they plan to protest at the funerals of toddlers killed by a mentally-unstable person. Talk about the ultimate irony.

You might ask, "Jeff, how will you combine your unresolved anger, grieving for the loss of your father, the loss of toddlers and utter disdain (I'm being kind right now) for the Westboro Baptist Church and their love of hatred, not to mention the misunderstanding of those of us who are not mentally stable (whatever that means) at every moment into a single blog entry?" Good question. And I'll just say that I make this shit up as I go along, my fingers pecking as my mind leads them to keys on the keyboard.

But, there is a connection. And, it's not anger. Yeah, I'll admit that if I lived in the vicinity of Fast-Five Freddy Phelps and his coglomerate of hatemongers I'd gladly pay four dollars per gallon of gas to burn him and his minions in effigy. After all, according to their 'loving god', that's what's gonna happen to each and every one of those lemmings and their blind, hate-filled leader anyway. Hell, I'd listen to a sermon espoused by Mussolini and Hitler and give it more credence than what I'd give Freddy's words of 'salvation' as he and his limp-dicked followers proclaim to be truth.

Sure, there's anger in my words due to my dad having passed. Yet, my dad would be no less a target for the hypocites of WBC than the innocent children that were murdered, or the soldiers killed in the field of battle, or Elizabeth Edwards, or your family member, friend, co-worker.... and at that thought, I want to go Popeye Doyle or Charles Bronson and just eliminate the source of unnecessary bigotry and hurt impressed upon people already hurting as a result of life's absurdities.

Am I calling for violence against Freddy and his ilk? Surely not. That would make me as inhuman and soul-less as they are. Karma's a bitch, though. I do call for a protest for their having been born. Sort of a reversal of what they do. The whole '666' thing, in a way. Maybe we, as a single source of positive energy, can become the 'Anti-Freddy.' I'm down with that. I'll even make bumper stickers.

I don't want to diminish the hurt I feel at having unexpectedly lost my father to a massive coronary. I'm finding that stifling emotions can do damage to one's own heart and lead to harsh words and actions towards those who are just as vulnerable. Geez, I'm growing up and I don't like it.

Therefore, I'll end with something I wrote a while ago which resounds with me, and hopefully with you, in these difficult, unfriendly and senseless times....

The Fred Phelps/Jesus Wikileaks Transcripts

(The following has been edited)

Okie doke. The following is an unofficial transcript obtained by WikiLeaks that details a conversation between Fred Phelps and his leader, Jesus, son of Tammy and Travis. The Westboro Jesus who was born in a mangy trailer, covered in swaddling sheets, complete with hood and a copy of 'Mein Kampf' and damns those who swill Jim Beam in favor of Jack Daniels and will save everyone who believes that he is the Savior of Dale Earnhardt's soul.

... and we begin ...

Fred: "God? Jesus? You there? I need to speak at ya ... this whore wife of an adulterer died today. Thank you. Can you give me a sign that you snuffed her? I mean, I know that you hate those who stand by sinners, whoremongers, liars and fans of Jeff Gordon. Woot woot."

.. and then, silence.

Fred: "Hey, Jeez ... it's me, Fred. I'm thinkin' that after dinner at the Sizzler, my flock might do a video that shows Liz Edwards as a sinner in Hell ... maybe to the tune by Bow Wow Wow ... you know, "I Want Candy" except we'll spin it into, "I Want Cancer" ... I know you like parody."

..silence.

Freddy: "Jesus, Jesus ... I always do what you tell me to do. You say 'hate', I hate. You say, 'antagonize', I antagonize. You say, "blow an altar boy', I say I'm not Catholic but I'll finger a schoolgirl ... I'm always here for ya, J-man. But, what are we gonna do about this evil, evil woman that died? I mean, Hell-fire, you sent her death and suffering and damnation, afterall. So, how can I, we, my church, further extol your message of love and acceptance by denouncing her self-perceived strength of spirit?"

... "ahem":... silence...

And then, as if a breeze was blown from the sphincter of God, a voice emerged from behind chords of a banjo ... and the voice said unto Fred the Divine ...

Voice: "Fred, Can ya hear me? It's me, Bob. I like the name 'Bob' because you can say it backwards or forwards and it still says 'Bob'.

Fred: "Jesus? God? Hallelujah! You have shown yourself and affirmed that your church, THE church, here in Kentucky, is right in protesting the death of a life of one who died in trying to live as she proclaimed false hope knowing that she was going to die which in effect is a lie and as such condemns her to damnation and hellfire."

Voice: It's 'Bob'.

Fred: "Oh, Bob. My utmost apologies. I should thrust myself upon a sword or stone myself. But, If I were to do that then who would lead the flock to the promised land of polygamy, judgementalism and paradise?... the paradise in which women without makeup or hair care products are desireable,.. the paradise that has St. Peter at the gates of Heaven, tearing in trackside tickets complete with an eternal pit pass and handing each of us entering a bucket of chicken wings and a cooler of holy beverages? J-Man, you and I are equal ... Let me bow my head for a moment as you nod to St. Earnhardt ..."

Voice: "Fred ... Fred, Fred, Fred ... first of all, just so ya know ... Dale is downstairs. Yeah, he rubbed too many cars the wrong way. Secondly, Liz ... Miss Edwards ... well, she's written quite an appeal on her own behalf as a result of your damning condemnation. I gotta tell ya Freddy, you might need to hire an attorney ... I hear Lindsay Lohan's and Mel Gibson's counsel might be available ... I might be the judge, jury and executioner but I'm willing to give you your day in court ..."

Fred: "Wait a minute ... Is this you Jesus? I know that sometimes there are people that try to impersonate you... Hold on, wait a second, I have a call from FOX News ... can you hold?"

Voice: "Suuure ... hehe ... (little does Freddy know that I made the call and I own FOX News) ...

....... moments later ....

Fred: "Uhhhh ... sorry 'bout that bro ... Beck wanted to know the details of the protest and bought four tickets. By the way, all monies received for protesting the death and life of those who died while exhibiting unholy faith and strength goes towards the new Family Life center and annual Chicken Pie dinner for the unsaved and unworthy. It's a good thing, trust me. All I personally get from it is a blurb on network news and possibly a blowjob from a parishoner which I know you'll forgive because I'm doing the work of...well, you."

Voice: "I most certainly have a nice spot in mind for your life in eternity, Freddy. Your actions really do accentuate my teachings in a way you'd never fathom. "Fathom" ... there's a word you might want to explore.

"Liz!" "Liz!" ... Hold on a sec, Freddy ....

Voice: "Hey, Liz ... would you reach over St. John and pass me that red Sharpie? yeah... that one ... and if you don't mind, I need that sheet of poster board ... I have an idea for a sign that is gonna make headlines at an upcoming protest ....I'm thinkin' you should be there to speak for me ..."

Voice: "Hey, Freddy? Here's where I want you to go next ... Oops... My bad. You're gonna be there already. Oops again, I just spoiled your surprise ... you're the guest of honor, so to speak. By the way, did you know that Westboro, Kentucky is now the galactic center of the universe and a spiraling black hole rests underneath the altar of your sanctuary? *wink wink* ... Just trying to clue you in ... "

Fred: "I KNEW that I was your chosen one! Can I have your chair at the right hand of God? I mean, Hell...oops, Heck ... You might have raised the dead but I condemned 'em ... so, move over...."

..... And so it is .. so let it be written, so let it be done ... please.

 

Amen and Holy Shit.