This technically doesn't qualify as an S.Z. Sunday, since the post below wasn't written by s.z., but it does feature one of my favorite columns by former World O' Crap regular Pastor J. Grant Swank, Jr. (or, as Doghouse Riley always called him, "Ol' Glamor Shots"). Hope you enjoy...
Speaking in Forked Tongues (originally published August 2, 2010).J. Grant Swank is expected to reach a charismatic climax of such unusual force, distance, throw-weight, and viscosity, that you might want to leave your hat on.
Sarah Palin will be quizzed about political this and that. But when she runs for Oval Office, if she does, and it surely does appear as if it’s in her adrenaline swing, her being Christian will be shredded.Listen boys, if you’re going to use the adrenaline swing during your sex orgies and rainbow parties, remember to apply adequate lubrication and ease into things, so you don’t wind up shredding her “Christian,” as the kids call it nowadays. Didn’t the Coach teach you anything in Mental Hygiene class?
She is not only Christian in the biblical definition, but also “evangelical” when it comes to tags.So if you’re going to “know” her “Christian” in the “biblical sense,” that’s fine, but if, during a peak of passion, she begs you for an “evangelical,” remember to be safe and use a condom and a shoehorn. (NB: Some inexperienced young people confuse the “evangelical” with the “throttled pentecostal” — a form of auto-erotic asphyxiation that requires two wet suits and a dildo — or the “Quaker snaker,” which is basically regular anal sex, except one party is wearing a periwig.)
And not only “evangelical,” but charismatic/pentecostal.
That issue alone will swab the deck.(“Swabbing the deck” is also known as a “Cincinnati Bowtie” or a “Chinstrap Penguin.”)
The atheists, agnostics and generic secularists will warp and woof. They will holler and screech. They will write and scrawl. They will pull up the sewer tops from every evangelical and pentecostal persona in the past century.Hey, slow down there, Pastor. I can’t keep running to the Urban Dictionary every time you discover a new fetish.
Further, they will take especially the pentecostal beliefs and strew them from coast to coast, then every continent. They will misplace them, misstate them, malign them and nail them to hell’s front door.Then ring the bell and run!
Her local church will be swarmed with reporters. Her pastor will have to hide from media.And from definite and indefinite articles.
Every churchgoer there in her hometown will likewise be buttonholed.Also known as a “Davenport Corncobbing,” or a “Minnesota Widestance.”
Some will speak clearly regarding doctrine. Others won’t have a clue and so will stir up the theological pot to dirt.Well, not everyone can speak with the clarity and eloquence of a Sarah Palin. Or a J. Grant Swank, for that matter.
Then First Dude will be quizzed till he’ll flee on dogsled.If only he not flee on dogsled, First Dude could answer quiz. Quiz easy! “Friend? Good! Fire? Bad!”
Palin children will be asked if they agree or disagree with family faith, especially the matriarch’s claim.A Matriarch’s Claim is basically a Dirty Sanchez using Jean Naté and potpourri.
The Bible verses relating to miracles, the Second Coming and speaking in tongues will make front page fodder, mostly screwed up to the nth.I tried screwing up to the nth once. It made me very chafed.
Imagine what Katie Couric will do with the Word.It actually works better for me if I just think about baseball.
Those truly interested in the topic will be twittering and emailing and posting till their fingers fall off.Well, it’s better than going blind.
In the meantime, God will oversee the mayhem and wonder what happened when Sarah Palin decided to run run run.She should flee on dogsled!
The circus has not even started yet. Wait till they pitch the Big Tent.Oh, I think you’re pitching a pretty big tent right now, Pastor. You might want to wait a few minutes before you stand up.
Haha. That was so worth rereading.
Then ring the bell and run!
Beelzebub is gonna be SO PISSED!!!
Thanks for reminding us all of Grant Swank, one of the great ones until he apparently went blind masturbating to pictures of Phyllis Schlafly and had to give up blogging.
the “throttled pentecostal” — a form of auto-erotic asphyxiation that requires two wet suits and a dildo
Damn, that's twisted. But hilarious. Even more so because it actually happened.
and so will stir up the theological pot to dirt
And the evangelical dust bunnies will clump in the wok!
Just ... wow. I never knew these guys could type in tongues, too.
Now excuse me -- I need to go smoke a cigarette.
(thank you, Barry Fitzgerald)
I never saw that one before. Pastor Swank at his most... well, Jesus Thucydides Christ.
You were brilliant in riposte, Scott, but admit it: into a satirist's life very few Swanks can fall. Let's just be grateful it lasted as long as it did.
Thanks, guys. And yes, L'il, you're right. I've tried to be philosophical about the Pastor's retirement from public aphasia, but it's a hard loss. He was a loon, take him for all in all, we shall not look upon his like again.
I dunno. While many of your regular targets struck me as richly deserving of your ridicule(Mike Adams, f'rinstance, certainly more than merits any and all abuse thrown his way and then some), I mostly just felt sorry for ol' Pastor Wordsalad. His inability to construct anything even remotely resembling a coherent sentence, his constant tone of aggrieved, barely-contained hysteria, not to mention the fact that he wasn't even a real minister but some poor mope with a make-believe church in his living room, really gave me the impression of someone with some really serious mental problems who was operating way out of his depth as a self-appointed pundit, and as such more deserving of pity than of scorn.
Gabriel Ratchet (on a break from the Wild Hunt, right?), in a sense I agree... but bear in mind that the Pastor had/has a wife who presumably accompanies him through life, to some extent anyway, so he's not a lonesome pundit. Also, I always felt that his rhetoric showed real enthusiasm, as if he were enjoying slinging the language around by its poor overstretched tail quite a lot. Wherever he is, I hope he's happy and not driving anyone else crazy.
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