Don't Get Me Started with Linda Sharp

Thou Dost Protest Too Much And Methinks You're All A-holes

I have never made my aversion to organized religion a secret.

I have tried it.  It's not for me. 

I'm much too much of a free thinker who could not survive the tunnel visioned constraints imposed by the church in which I was raised.  Rather, I choose to continue my relationship with God as the one-on-one affair I believe it should be.  I don't feel my life is lacking in the least.  In fact, in some ways I believe it is fuller because I am open to people from all walks of life, all faiths, all cultures - not limiting myself only to those who "go to my particular church".

That being said, I have also never made it a secret that I completely support those for whom church fills a void, provides a comfort, engenders a sense of community.  If that is a true source of happiness, and the person respects that not everyone is on their same bandwagon, I think that's great. 

But when the boundaries are crossed, when a person condescends to tell me I am wrong and they are right, when people use God or the Bible to justify hate, ignorance, or prejudice, I draw the line.

Case in point: the deceitful abduction and subsequent emotional rape of my youngest child last weekend at the hands of her soccer coach.  So convinced of his "grace" and "duty to save", he lied to my husband and I about taking my child to a movie with his daughter, then took her to his church where she was plied with candy and raffle tickets to win a bike, then tried to force her to "go up with people who have not let Jesus in their hearts yet".  The adventure was rounded out by her repeatedly being told by something called "Captain Kelly" that because she doesn't go to church every Sunday, she will never go to the "sacred place".

As far as I'm concerned there is only one place where both her soccer coach and Captain Kelly need to go...

The insecurity - and I truly believe that's what's at the heart of so many of these Bible banging people - is on display daily.  Eager to be told what to do, what to think, how to live, they abdicate all freedom of thought, all ability to make a decision, all ownership of their true emotions - willing to follow in lemming-like procession as someone slips the ring through their noses and leads them forth.

But with massive insecurity typically comes massive ignorance, and exceedingly bad choices and behaviors.

(I pause here to stress that I do not paint all church-going people with a single brush. I am not talking about the good hearted, kind, loving, charitable folk who practice their faith and are content to allow others to practice theirs. But let's be honest - there are plenty of extremists out there who sully the Christian image for the rest. And as Eve found out - one bad apple in the wrong fangs...)

Meet today's winners of the My Religion Allows Me To Be An Asshole award -the congregants of the Westboro Baptist Church in Topeka, Kansas.

If you have not heard of them by name, perhaps you know them by their actions.  These are the misguided (I'm being kind here and in light of what just happened with my daughter, I expect kudos for restraint) souls who have made it their mission to protest at the funerals of soldiers killed in Iraq and Afghanistan

Originally their protests sprung up when they determined that the deceased soldier had been gay, in their minds giving them the right to shout "Fag" at the top of their lungs at the grieving families and friends.

God must be so proud.

But you know what?  To ask them, they would tell you God is very proud of them.  That they are doing his work.

I'm sorry, but we must believe in very different Gods. 

My God doesn't advocate violence, derision, bigotry, infliction of pain, hatred.  My God put us all here and he takes us all back when it's our time.  Then we each have a student-teacher conference with the Head Professor, and based on the content of our hearts, the way we treated our fellow human beings, the good we tried to do with our lives, the choices we made, we find out if we graduate to the head of the class or get a dunce cap and ticket to permanent detention with Professor Beelzebub.

Given the planned activities of the Westboro gang, I would say detention is going to fill up quickly.

You see, Huntsville, Alabama (and honestly, any parent, anywhere) is still reeling from the tragic bus crash earlier this week which took the lives of four students.  The community is rallying around the families of the dead, celebrating the lives of those who were taken, and giving thanks that more of the children did not perish in the horrific accident.

Yet somehow, the emotional Yetis of Westboro, have warpedly tied their God Hates Fags campaign (think I'm kidding about the name?  This is their website: www.godhatesfags.com ) to these innocent high school students. 

In a flyer distributed to its members, and on their hate-based website, they have decided to picket at the funerals.  This is taken directly from their flyer which may be viewed in its entirety at: http://www.godhatesfags.com/fliers/nov2006/20061121_huntsvill-alabama-school-bus.pdf 

WBC to picket the funerals of school children killed in Huntsville, Alabamac, when their school bus from Lee High School plunged 30 feet off a highway overpass - in religious protest and warning: "God is not mocked!" Gal. 6:7. God Hates Fags! & Fag-Enablers! Ergo, God hates Alabama and America because they have gone the way of ancient Sodom and have become The Land of the Sodomite Damned.

I see. So God tossed the school bus off the overpass because he's mad at us? I'd say he picked the wrong bus. Anyone have the Greyhound info for the caravan from Topeka to Huntsville?

Seriously, how in the hell they draw a corollary between a tragic school bus crash and bashing homosexuals is beyond me.

But then most organized religion is beyond me.  That's why I don't participate.  Any religion that demands I hate a group of people, shun them, or condemn them to death just doesn't exactly scream "God-like" to me.

And quite frankly, given the frequent closet cleaning going on in their own ranks these days, I find their actions not only heinous, but hypocritical.

Prime example? Ted Haggert, the very vocal gay basher and top evangelical minister, was found to not only be a meth user, but to have a longstanding, monthly, paid relationship with a gay male prostitute.

That his congregants, in predictable, blind, lemming-like fashion wept and blamed the devil is laughable to me.  "The devil is tempting him!" they shouted.

No.  The devil wasn't tempting him.  His dick was tempting him. 

You see, God gave us something when He created us, that is every bit as important as the air in our lungs.  He gave us Free Will.  (Ted obviously misunderstood that to be Free Willy.)

And free will, not the devil, is at work when anyone is at any type of personal crossroads, whether it is a simple one like "would I like the chicken or the fish tonight?" or one more far reaching like, "hmmmm, should I puff some meth and get slicked up with my secret buddy, or should I go home and read my kids a bedtime story?"

Blaming the devil for everything you don't like in the world is just wrong.  At some point, people have to take ownership of their actions.  They need to make the right choices, not continue to make the wrong ones hoping they just never get caught with their pants down.

But bad choices are what the Westboro folks have down cold.  The mere thought that they have any right to show up at any funeral and disrupt what is already an unbearable proceeding is the sin.

I realize we have freedom of speech in this country - I believe in and am thankful for the right.

I just don't believe in freedom of stupidity.

But these folks are much like the man who took my baby to be preached at behind my back and then took her to Hooters for lunch.  They are misguided, arrogant, smug, and hypocritical.

And I bet they already have their post-protest lunch reservations made.  Wings and ass, anyone?

Crucifying Trust

(Editor’s note:  This one goes long.  Pack a lunch.)

An off-putting thing happened to me a couple weeks back…

I was at a busy gas station, pumping fuel into my minivan for another long weekend of soccer taxi driving.  While standing there, enjoying the sunshine, organizing my thoughts for the games ahead, I noticed a white sedan about twenty yards away parked by the gas station fence.

In it, I saw two old people, a man and a woman, chatting. 

At most, I thought they must be reading a map or drinking some stellar service station coffee.

As quickly as I had considered them, however, my mind moved on to strikers, mid fielders, and defenders, and snacks for the strikers, mid fielders, and defenders.

Then, just as I had placed the nozzle back in its cradle and was getting into my car, I noticed the old man approaching.  I continued to get in my car and as I reached for the door, he stopped me from closing it.

OK, at this point, all I can say is that he is lucky he was an old man, nattily dressed in a sports coat and tweed cap.  Had he been even one liver spot younger than he was, my fight or flight response would have kicked in and he would still have the imprint of my door handle in his shriveled groin.

As it was, somewhere in my mind, I knew that if he was actually accosting me, I could snap his brittle ass in half.  I may be small, but so is dynamite – and you don’t mess with either.

He then proceeded to greet me with a smile, a how are you doing, what are doing today, all in a gee-I’m-a-harmless-old-coot manner.  I politely informed him I had a busy day ahead and needed to get moving.

It was at that point he thrust three pieces of literature into my hand, telling me that he was sure I had some questions about the world that could be answered by reading them.  I said thank you, took them, and quickly got into my car, watching him walk back to his old woman companion and their parked white sedan.

Yes.  I had just been Jehovah-jacked.

I find it disgusting when earnest young men, dressed in their white shirts, black ties, and backpacks come to my door to preach to me about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  Heck, I find it disgusting when little children ring my bell unaccompanied to sell me chocolate for their school fund raisers.

But at least I like chocolate.

But presuming to come to my house, and now to accost me in a gas station parking lot?  I have no patience for proselytizing, period.

Alliteration aside, these people do not know me.  They do not know how I believe, what I believe, if I believe. And their blanket presumption that whatever those answers are, I must be doing it all wrong and am in need of their saving? 

It’s beyond rude.

Yet, as unsettling as the old man encounter may have been, or how irritated I get when I see the young men on their bicycles canvassing my neighborhood, they do not hold a votive candle to the religious raping that occurred this past weekend.

We were ensconced in yet another two days of soccer play offs, in which only one of our daughters was participating.  Normally, our 14 year old would have been home, thus freeing the ten year old from being held captive on the sidelines of her 13 year old sister’s games, however, the built-in babysitter was away on a school field trip, meaning our youngest was faced with toughing it out – just her and her Nintendo DS – as she got dragged along for the weekend.

Lo and behold, the phone rang the night before and it was her soccer coach (her season has ended) offering to pick her up and let her spend the day with him and his daughter, a wonderful little girl on her team, instead of having to sit through a long Saturday of sister-soccer.

My husband and I (and of course, our 10 year old) truly appreciated the generosity of the gesture and arranged that he would pick her up from the fields the next morning after the first game was over.

Now, I freely admit, even being the over-the-top, will-go-out-of-my-way-for-anyone person that I am, I was frankly surprised at his willingness to come all the way to a different town to pick her up.

But, I let it go.

After the first game, he arrived with his kids to pick up our daughter.  We chatted about their plans for the day, which included mention of errands like a haircut for himself (fine), lunch (of course), and probably a movie (how fun!).  We kissed our daughter, and completely trusting she was in good hands, turned our backs and headed to the next game.

Later that afternoon, my cell rang and it was her coach, checking in.  Everything was fine, but there was a cool car show at Hooters that his 13 year old son wanted to check out, and he wanted permission to take her there for something to eat.  I joked that his son wanted to check out the “headlights”, not the cars, but that yes, a hamburger at Hooters was fine. 

I don’t like Hooters.  I think Hooters is ridiculous.  And even if there were a restaurant for women called Boners, I wouldn’t go.  Not because I am a prude, I simply think it is stupid.

But, I let it go.

That night, while tucking her into bed, we talked about what they did that day.  She talked about how short the shorts were on the Hooters waitresses (good girl!), but that the hamburger was good.  Then she said they went to some “church-like” place for a while and that she was uncomfortable there.  No mention of going to see the movie Happy Feet as we had discussed.

At that point the hairs stood up a bit on the back of my neck, but she was really tired and falling asleep.

We don’t go to church.

We have specific reasons for not going to church.

I wasn’t happy about that being included in her day, but, I let it go.

Well, as it turns out, there were more details forthcoming. 

While at the “church-like place”, Carson was plied with candy, raffle tickets to win a bike or scooter, and skits, which she admits seemed fun at the time. 

Then a “whole bunch of people” were sitting and listening to someone called Captain Kelly preach to them “really loudly”.  Then he asked for “everyone who has not let Jesus into your hearts yet” to come forward.  It was then that her coach told her to go to the front of the church with the other people who were moving forward.

To say my husband and I were sickened when she told us this, is an understatement of Biblical proportions.

To her credit, this child who has been taught that it is OK to tell an adult No when something makes her uncomfortable, refused him and stayed seated.

Asked what happened next, she went on to describe how all the people – kids, grown-ups, etc – who had gone forward, were TAKEN OUT OF THE ROOM.  (Yes, this man was not only encouraging her to join a group of strangers, but to leave his sight.)

The service moved on with her coach shoving a dollar into her hand to put in the offering basket, and then Captain Kelly repeatedly shouting that “if you do not go to church every Sunday, you will not go to the sacred place (heaven)”.

Forgive me a moment while I swallow another wad of bile threatening to hit my keyboard.

So, in summary, my ten year old child was emotionally raped by her soccer coach, told flat out that she has not let Jesus in her heart, and that since she does not attend church, she is going to Hell.

I believe in the Ten Commandments, but last night my husband and I were ready to throw “Thou shalt not kill” right out on its ass.

I cannot even begin to explain how violated we feel by this man.  He stood there, lying through his teeth about movies and fun, and then took our daughter to be “saved”.

And then to Hooters. 

Blatant hypocrisy fan that I am (gag), I love that he asked our permission to take her to Hooters, but not to take her to church.

Again, we are not a family that attends church.  We believe in God, we do not believe in religion.  It is very simple.  It is not a lack of faith in Jesus or God or even faith itself.  It is because religion does not bring people together - it separates them into clumps of people who are afraid of one another and who judge one another. 

Don’t believe me?  Turn on the news.  Heck, turn to your own heart and see just how you view someone who doesn't go to your brand of cathedral.

Rudy and I are raising our children to look at the world with open eyes and to accept people with open hearts, not to judge them or have the first question they ask be, "What church do you go to?" because it should not matter.  Our girls are friends with people based on how the other people behave.  The content of their heart, not how often they sit in a pew.

The funny part is that our 10 year old has a better understanding of, and connection to, God, than most people ever will.  She is loving, open, accepting, caring, self sacrificing - and to tell her she has never let Jesus in her heart is reprehensible.   To plant a seed that she is going to Hell?  It sickens me.

If church fits someone's lifestyle, or needs, or fills a void, that's fine.  I respect that.  We are teaching our children to respect that.  It’s an adult choice to go.  It’s a parent's choice to take their own children.  But to take someone else's child without their permission?  To proselytize to them?  To make them uncomfortable or risk their safety by encouraging them to leave a room with a bunch of strangers?

I'm sure in his mind, his heart was in the right place, but in ours, what he did was so far beyond the pale, we simply cannot allow her to go out with him and his daughter alone again.  The violation of our trust, the flat out lying to us about what they were doing that day makes it impossible for us to risk her safety, state of mind and heart, or, quite frankly, our time with him anymore.

The descriptions of candy, tickets to win a bike or scooter, etc - it's simply not what we want our children exposed to.  Bribing a child or tricking them into religion is not how they should come to God. 

A person's relationship with God is a one on one affair. 

No one else is responsible for my soul, my husband’s soul, or our daughters’ souls.  We don’t need saving.  And believe me, I don’t need someone coming to my home, or dragging my child to their church.  I live in the buckle of the Bible belt.  Churches are on more street corners than Starbucks down here.  If I want to go to church, I know where they are.

I believe that what scares people like her coach is this:  We are decent, loving, open, giving, generous, sacrificing people.  We have a 16 year happy, fulfilled marriage and three compassionate, caring children, we know peace – all the things churches teach you can only be yours if you attend every week and tithe 30% of your income.

But we don’t go to church.  So how can we possibly be all these things, have all these things?  I’m sure it doesn’t make sense to anyone who has been indoctrinated and screamed at weekly about going to Hell for nonattendance.

Our belief is simple.  We do not need a church around us to talk to God or feel his presence.  I don't view God as someone I need to make an appointment with each Sunday.  I talk to Him all the time.  That's the thing religion misses – the thing religion doesn’t want people to figure out.  God doesn't live in some big building with a cross on top, He is portable.  God is like an iPod, and you can listen to His “greatest hits” anytime because He lives in a person's heart.

I'm glad my daughter’s belief is stronger than her coach’s.  She knows that what Captain Kelly (ok, forgive me Father, for I am about to sin – what THE hell kind of stupid ass name is that anyway?) said is not true.  And not because of anything Rudy and I have taught her. 

Carson came into this world with an understanding of God and Heaven built in.  She could tell you stories about Heaven that would shame a minister. 

She has been there.  And she has no fear of where she's going, because she knows exactly where she came from.  And I guarantee you, this child who constantly gives every cent she has to charities, who champions every underdog child in her school, who cut all her hair off last summer so that a child with cancer might have a pretty wig to wear, is not going to Hell.  If anything, there’s going to be a ticker tape parade when she gets back to Heaven. 

I encourage every person of faith to enjoy your faith. Revel in it with people who are like-minded.  Find comfort in it.  Use it to justify what you need it to justify.  Just don’t force it on other people who think differently.

And don't ever make the mistake of stealing someone's child and exposing them to it without express permission. 

Because you have been warned.  That other parent will come down on you like the wrath of the very God you claim to worship.

What A Bummer

I love stupid people.

I really do.

Stupid people make my job so much easier.  I really never have to face a day wondering if I will find something to write about.  I just wake up in the morning secure in the knowledge that one of my fellow human beings will do something so asinine, so completely over-the-top ignorant, whilst I sleep, that my only problem will be deciding which one to write about.

But decisions must be made.  So allow me to introduce you to today’s winner of the I’m-The-Child-Who-Ate-Paste-In-Grammar-School Award…

A 22 year old man, who shall be nameless (only because I can’t find it in the news, not because I believe this idiot deserves to have his identity protected.  Seriously, anyone THIS stupid needs outed for their own protection.) was admitted to a British hospital suffering severe internal injuries, serious burns, and – are you ready? – a scorched colon, after sticking a large firecracker in his ass and lighting it.

I’ll pause while you laugh hysterically.  I know I did.

Yes, it seems this young man, and his equally retarded butties – sorry, buddies – were celebrating Guy Fawkes Day (Britons light bonfires and let off fireworks to commemorate a 17th century plot to blow up the Houses of Parliament) in Great Britain and decided, “Hey, anyone can light a bonfire.  But it takes a real MAN to stick an M80 up his ass.”

Wanker.

Come to think of it.  He’s lucky he didn’t blow his wanker off in the process.

Of course, in the techno-fabulous age in which we live, his friends caught this Einsteinian moment on their cell phones.  It shows a group of young men watching the action as a bright white explosion occurs from their friend’s anal area.  Then, as his ass dissolves into ribbons and blood, the gathering of Rhodes scholars dissolves into hysterical laughter.

I’m sure it will be available on You Tube any moment now.

I would like to take a moment to point out that this was a contingent of MALES.  Not a woman to be found.  Then again, what woman would lay claim to a man who uses his friend’s caboose as a bottle rocket launcher?

Seriously people.  I cannot think of a female who would attempt this – drunk or sober.

I have hemorrhoids.  That’s enough pain for me.

But I am perversely happy that the world contains folk willing to scorch their own colons for my entertainment.  Without them, I just might wake up one morning and panic as I have to face a blank computer monitor wondering what the heck to write about. 

Nah – it’ll never happen.

I love stupid people.

Coach Takes Extracurricular Activities Too Far

Sting sang about it.  Mary Jo Kopechne went to jail for it. Debbie La Favre blamed bi-polar disorder for it. The police files are full of it – stories of teachers who crossed the line and pursued sexual relationships with students.

It happens a lot. 

But like school shootings, you just never think it’s going to happen in your town, much less that you’re actually going to know the players involved.

Welcome to my Friday.

Yes, it seems that my daughter’s middle school soccer coach (last year), a woman I conversed with on many occasions, a coach my daughter adored, has been arrested for having a six month sexual relationship with a 14 year old boy.

14 years old.

I don’t care what the package looks like on the outside. That is a child. 

And it makes my skin want to crawl right off my body.

It also makes me question everything I thought I knew about her. 

I mean this is a nice lady.  28 years old.  She was dedicated to coaching to the point that she worked at one school, but made a beeline to my daughter’s middle school when the bell rang each afternoon in order that the school (understaffed) could have a girls’ soccer program in the Spring.

She was funny.  She was tough.  The girls respected her.  I trusted her.

She also always brought a couple 8^th grade boys from her own school with her to each one of my daughter’s practices.  Soccer playing boys my daughter said came to help with practices. 

Pardon me if I now look back on those boys and can’t help but wonder which one was earning extra credit in the parking lot.

This whole situation just points out to me that predators are everywhere.

And I hate using that word to describe her, but that’s exactly what she is.

The hundreds of teachers who are arrested each year for this type of behavior are predators.  Don’t tell me they are victims of mental disorders, or alcoholics, or have histories of abuse as children. They are NOT victims.

They are adults who follow a simple flightplan:

Abuse position of authority.  Check.

Violate trust of adults.  Check.

Take advantage of proximity to victims. Check.

Display a gross lack of judgment. Check.

Hope they don’t get caught. Check.

Having sex with a minor – I do not care how hot, muscled, busty, blond, or flirty they are (and yes, I do place a modicum of blame at the feet of the kids – a teenager knows damn well when they are doing something this wrong) - is such a violation of trust, such a selfish kink to indulge, that it is simply reprehensible.

No, my daughter was not taken advantage of.  Although when she finds out, she certainly will question everything she thought she knew about her coach.

Yes.  She will find out. 

I do not keep things like this from my kids. I do not shield them from the aberrant behavior of their fellow human beings, whether it is death on 9/11, or child abuse down the street.

They need information.  They need examples.  They need to know this is out there.

Because information is power.

Power they can draw on if they are ever up against a situation like this.  Power to smell a bad apple when it is nearby. And power to say NO to an adult who may be looking to take advantage of them.

Any teacher-student relationship that crosses the line into the highly personal, includes private time together, or a lavishing of attention on your child needs examined and questioned.  And if the teacher is a decent, well intentioned one, they will not mind the scrutiny.

Sting sang it, and I’ll paraphrase it, “Don’t stand so close to … my kids.”

I’m watching.

Garbage Disposal: Britney Spears Files For Divorce

Just when you think she doesn’t have a single rational brain cell left under her constantly dyed hair, Britney Spears does something right.

She may have servants, nannies, mannies, maids, butlers and au pairs to do everything for her, but Britney has decided to complete one chore by herself.

She is taking out the garbage.

Kevin Federline, a man who should be the poster child for Forced Sterilization, has, in a move that will bring forth the Hallelujah chorus from the tabloid masses, been kicked to the curb.

FINALLY.

Whether someone on the inside finally talked sense into Brit – making her see that she had not only married a missing link, but had allowed him to propagate his gene pool, TWICE (more) – or if she finally read enough articles in US Weekly on how incredibly stupid she is and how worthless he is – she has had enough of the human compost that is K-Fed.

Seriously, not since Tom Arnold wooed and won Rosanne has a man fell so backasswardly into luck.

And my only fear is, that like Tom Arnold, we have not seen the last of K Fed, simply because he has been kicked off the coattails, sotospeak.

Yes, he is a usery piece of shit.  He has no discernable talent, aside from that of managing to get hot women to carry his spawn.  (He is obviously as bad at wrapping his rascal as he is as a rapping rascal.)

Yes, he dragged down pop’s princess for over two years – not that she was doing herself any favors when he appeared on the scene.  But immediately following his entry into her life, she became a Cheeto munching, nasty, bare footed, overweight, terminally pregnant punchline.

The problem is that people like Tom, Bobby Brown, et al - seem to be granted an extended 15 minutes of fame by the public.  They are given their own TV shows, stunt casted into movies, and paid advances to write tell alls about their life.  (Come on - I want to know WHO offered Kevin I-Only-Know-How-To-Impregnate-Women Federline money to write his autobiography.  HE HASN'T DONE ANYTHING.  Honestly, the most inspiring thing he has done in his life is prove to ugly men that if they get a hot chick drunk enough, they can get her to marry them.)

Her parents must be peeing themselves with glee over news of his marital demise.

It will be interesting to see how this plays out – God knows the media will chronicle every single second, every soundbyte.  And every You Tubeable moment will be ours to devour over and over.

My sincerest hope is that he quickly pisses away every cent he gets in the divorce settlement, and finds himself faced with the task of finding a real job for once in his pathetic existence.  I’m sure he’s more than qualified to sell Slim Jims, Marlboro’s, Big Gulps and Cheetos at a 7-11 somewhere.

Let’s just hope though, that when the money runs out, he doesn’t turn to sperm donation to make a buck.

I can just see the description on his Semen File:

Cornrowed white boy, with poor grasp of English language, and serious delusions of personal grandeur.  Talents include chain smoking, hat wearing, and stubble growing.

Godspeed Britney. You have no where to go but up.

Screenplay For "I’m Really, Really Sorry (I Got Caught)"

Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES.

Yes, I am completely aware of the whole illicit scandal involving Evan-KY-Gelical Reverend Ted Haggard and his secret, promiscuous life.

And yes, I have been busting at the seams to spew my thoughts out into this blog.  I have also, however, had houseguests the past three days which severely limited my available thought-spewing time.

Thank God they’ve gone home. 

Seriously, Mom, Dad – you know I love you more than soft toilet paper, but I was really about ready to blow a smartass gasket in my head if you didn’t leave so I could write. 

You simply cannot allow someone like me – a person with a serious aversion to all things bullshittius -  to get too much sarcasm backed up inside.

My head could actually explode.

That being said…

Ted Haggard is an idiot.

A closeted, irresponsible, selfish, hypocritical, kinkwad of an idiot.

And he deserves whatever continues to happen in the wake of his being outed by his male prostitute buddy.

When the story initially broke last Friday, I scripted for my parents the way I knew this whole thing was going to play out.  (Where's Affleck & Damon with another Project Greenlight when I need them??)

I'm Really, Really Sorry I Got Caught

Scene 1

Gay Male Prostitute (henceforth known as GMP), sickened by the hypocrisy of his best customer, one Reverend Ted Haggard, founder of the country’s largest Evangelical Church, vocal gay basher, and weekly visitor to National Gay Basher Headquarters (aka The White House), outs said Reverend to the press.

Details include monthly paid trysts and drug use.

Scene 2

Gay basher extraordinaire, Theodore, will follow the handbook of all recently scandalized public figures.

(Teddy did just that:  Deny, deny deny.  Point to wife and kids to emphasize straightness.  Deny some more.)

Scene 3

More details will emerge from hunky GMP to back up his claims. 

(Sure enough, voice mails are presented to the media which quickly publishes transcripts for the public.  Details include dollar amounts, schedule of "events", and methamphetamine use.)

Scene 4

Reverend Ted will assume Bill Clinton-I-Did-Not-Inhale stance

(Yep.  Ted stepped down from the pulpit and admitted to buying some meth, but only out of curiosity.  Says he threw it away.  And he’s really sorry he ever got curious.  Still, however, denies relationship GMP.)

Scene 5

More details will emerge, courtesy of GMP – dates, more transcripts, physical evidence…

(Ted, forced by mounting evidence of … well … mounting, cops to getting a massage from the GMP, but still no drug use, and certainly no homosexual activity.  One could almost hear the simultaneous “Um, yeah” emitted by the public.)

Scene 6

Church will throw Ted under the bus, lovingly, of course, in order to save itself when the whole sordididity (perhaps they can say a prayer for my spellcheck) comes to light and Ted coughs up the truth.

(Voila!  After it is announced in his church that he has been kicked out, a pastor reads a letter from Ted to his 14,000 member flock in which he admits – I love this phraseology – “sexual immorality” and begs forgiveness from not only them, but his WIFE AND FIVE KIDS.)

Actual transcript:  "The fact is I am guilty of sexual immorality. And I take responsibility for the entire problem. I am a deceiver and a liar. There's a part of my life that is so repulsive and dark that I have been warring against it for all of my adult life."

Subtitles for those who are not fluent in Public Figure Bullshitese:  “Crap. I got caught with my pants down.  I’m really sorry I got caught. Bad me. Bad me. But I’m a victim.”

Scene 7

GMP will say “Nanny, nanny boo boo, I told you so.”

(OK, fine, maybe not the nanny, nanny boo boo part, but GMP Jones certainly wasn’t shy about his feelings”  "My intent was never to destroy his family. My intent was to expose a hypocrite.")

And you know the funny part in all this? Not just the part where I scripted this all out and I was right?

I believe the GMP. 

In fact, I believed him from the beginning.

Ted, the victim of “Satan” – no I’m not making that up. That’s exactly how he is being defended by his lemming-like followers – is a hypocrite. A flaming, deserves-what-he-gets hypocrite.

This is a man who was very vocal in opposing same-sex marriage. This is a man who had a weekly meeting with White House staffers to strengthen the whole Gays-Are-Less-Than-Human agenda. This is a man who stood at his pulpit, week after week, banging it as he derided homosexuality as an aberration, as a sin against God, a choice whose choosers were most certainly riding in the HOV lane to Hell.

HYP-O-CRITE.

Because this is also a man who for over three years has lied to his wife and kids, and snuck off to hook up with a GMP for a paid monthly slap and tickle – oh, and let’s not forget the methamphetamines.

This is a man who dove head first from the Liar Tree and hit every branch, face first, on the way down.

As for his statement that he has been “warring against … this dark and repulsive part” of his life for his “entire adult life”?

Looks more like he has been using his “gun” to fraternize with the enemy, don’t you think? And I’d say he has enjoyed the many battles so much that he has prolonged the war for his own pleasure.

But like all wars, there’s the inevitable traitor who ruins it for the other side. 

And so our script ends with Ted, much like Mark Foley, running off to a foxhole and hiding from the publicity schrapnel currently raining down.

Not sorry that he lost his personal “war”. Just sorry he got his lousy, pathetic ass fragged by an unhappy soldier in his “band of brothers”.

The End

Bush & Kerry: Dumb and Dumber

At last count, 124 of you have knocked on my inbox questioning why I have yet to chime in on the whole Bush vs Kerry smackdown.  My favorite queries include:

1.  Are you not interested?!?

2.  Are you trapped under something heavy?!?

3.  Are you dead?!?

People.  Puh-leez.

Trust me, I am interested.  How could someone like me, a card carrying CNNaholic, someone who mainlines 24 hour news like a junkie does H, not be interested?

I have been watching closely as this entire farce has unfolded.  I’ve read transcripts.  I’ve viewed video footage.  I’ve watched as Tony Snow, official White House umbrage taker,  pounds his podium.

And after compiling all the crap into one big smelly pile, here is what I have to say…

Everyone involved reeks of bullshit.

Yes, Republican BS smells just as bad as does Democratic verbal feces.  Elephant or donkey (or in this case – jackass) – it all stinks.

Does that mean I’m defending Kerry?

Of course not.

I don’t care what his intent was while addressing students at Pasadena City College in California, when the words actually came out of his mouth, he all but stated that military service is for the uneducated.  His exact words?

“You know, education – if you make the most of it, you study hard and you do your homework and you make and effort to be smart, you can do well.  If you don’t, you get stuck in Iraq.”

Ouch.

Is that actually what he meant?  Of course not.

The man is a veteran for God’s sake.  The man is smart.  The man is a seasoned politician.  But the man is also human – meaning he, like all of us, is prone to sticking his foot in his mouth upon occasion.

But – that is what he said, and for a slip-up that grotesque, a statement that sweeping, that all encompassing, that damning, he owes a massive apology to everyone he offended.

Unfortunately, with no apology immediately following the gaffe, the Republicans embraced their inner jihadist and quickly turned this into the stateside version of a Mohammed cartoon.

It is shameful.  Karl Rove and his machine, once through pissing themselves with glee, have taken the comment and declared a fatwah against not only John Kerry, but the entire Democratic Party, who in a stunning coincidence, is poised to snatch the elections away from the GOP.

And personally, I find it borderline hilarious that President Bush, a man who still clings to his own stupidity by continuing to pronounce it nucular, instead of nuclear, is leading the intelligence brigade.

But I think what grates my mental cheese the most is this:  They ALL think the American public, every one of us, is dumber than a barrel of nucular waste.

They believe we will all fall for the posturing, podium pounding, and grandstanding – ignorant lemmings that we are.

And that is what people should be incensed about.

Kerry may have worded something incredibly poorly, but everything that has followed shows a serious contempt for the citizens of this country, and a condescension that is truly offensive.  In fact, the continued smear campaign is a disturbing indictment of just how they view the intellect of the voters.

So Kerry – just get your ass to the nearest microphone and apologize, on bended knee, to everyone – especially the troops currently serving, and to any young person currently contemplating military service.  Stop taking the Pope stance of apologizing around the issue.  Just say you’re sorry.  Period.

And Republicans?  Stop treating these elections, and any granule of dirt you can rake up, or make up, as your personal Star Magazine.  We’re not buying.

And to the rest?  All you decent, hard working, intelligent citizens?   Get off your asses and vote.  Vote your gut, not the gossip.  Vote the issues, not the scandals.

Oh, and for the record?  I have never met a stupid soldier.

I’ve met soldiers from small towns.  I’ve met soldiers from booming metropolises.  I’ve met soldiers who didn’t go to college.  I’ve met soldiers raised in poverty.  I’ve met soldiers fed from a silver spoon.  I’ve even corresponded with soldiers who weren’t very well acquainted with punctuation or spelling.

But I’ve never met a stupid soldier.

No one who does what they do is stupid.  They are specialists.  They are technicians.  They are experts.  They are also the ones who value my freedom, and yours, when we forget to do it ourselves.

And in my book, that makes them the most brilliant people of all.