In Which I Do, In Fact, Mess With Texas

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Memo to all and sundry: MAKE FUCKING SENSE.

Maybe it's just because I'm feeling like crap*, but I find myself particularly irritated by the psychotic ramblings of crazy people with access to the media. So today, I'll be taking a brief tour of rambling nonsense that sticks in my craw like crazy craw glue.

We start with the Rev. Rusty Lee Thomas, who has decided to speak for God. Now, this is nothing particularly new. It'd be easier to count the folks throughout history who HAVEN'T spoken for their god or gods at one point or another. But Rev. Thomas takes it a bit farther, issuing, in God's name, an eviction notice. To the city of San Francisco.

This proclamation came out a week ago, and a quick check of Google News shows nothing about a parade of wicked sodomites walking toward Oakland, so I can only assume the Bay Area found Thomas' notice as laughable as I did. Or, more likely, were much too busy trying to pull down enough money to pay their hideously overinflated rents and mortgages to notice some Texas nutfuck calling them out. My rent is fairly reasonable, so I get to read shit like this. ACTUAL QUOTE TIME!

"God stands poised with his flaming sword ready to strike your city. He is prepared to exchange Sodom and Gomorrah with San Francisco to serve as a warning to all cities and nations of men "do not follow in their pernicious ways." Your city will be turned into a scarecrow and used by God as His enemy to warn future generations, lest you repent and turn from your wicked ways of child sacrifice, which is the shedding of innocent blood and homosexuality. You must stuff these abominations back in the closet of illegality and punish these criminal acts as God prescribes or your entire house (city) will collapse upon your wicked heads. With all diligence, take heed to this warning, repent or perish, Christ or chaos."

OK, first of all, Rev. Rusty Thomas is from Waco. So, you know. People who live in heavily fortified glass compounds shouldn't throw grenades. At the ATF. I think I'm supposed to mention Janet Reno here too, but I'm not sure. It's been so long since we had to worry about the civil rights of white Christian religious psychos that the details are fuzzy.

Second, I get how the wicked ways of child sacrifice would be the shedding of innocent blood, but where does the homosexuality enter into it? That whole sentence is a grammatical and lexicographical nightmare. A city turned into a scarecrow? To warn future generations? Rusty must realize that the purpose of a scarecrow is to scare crows. I mean, it's right there in the fucking name. Scare. Crow. They're not called "serveasawarningofimmoralitytopeoplewalkingthroughcornfieldses". I'm pretty sure that what Rusty meant was that God would cut off San Francisco's head, stick it on a pike, and people walking past that city's piked head would then be afraid of God's terrible wrath.

It still doesn't make any fucking sense, because cities don't have heads, they have mayors. And putting Gavin Newsome on a pike could be interpreted as any number of different dire warnings. But at least the metaphor would be somewhat more consistent.

Still, at least Rev. Thomas had a clear, well-defined goal. He hates gay people, knows God hates gay people too, and is looking forward to God destroying San Francisco because it's full of gay people. Simple and forthrightly wrong. Which is more than you can say for Wayne Johns, resident of Waco's distant neighbor to the south, Victoria, Texas.

Johns dropped four paragraphs of whatthefuck on the Letters To The Editor page of the Victoria Advocate, the premise of which completely eludes me. Two girls are inspired by two female astronauts on either the International Space Station or the Space Shuttle. I don't know which, because Wayne Johns can't fucking write. What he says is, "One day on TV they saw the space station being docked by the space shuttle. Great they thought. But best of all it was being commanded by two women. Outstanding they thought."

This is why I need you stupid people to make more fucking sense. What is "being docked by"? Was the space station having its wages garnisheed? And that's just the start of it. Johns' point seems to be that the two young girls being inspired to play astronaut by a pair of successful women leads directly to anarchy, chaos, and the eventual domination of males by packs of roving girls gone wild. And not in a titty way.

"They played well for a day or two, but then things went wrong and they begin quarreling. The two girls were angry at each other; neither wanted to share the little boy. So they started flinging their pampers at each other. And they threw pepper at each other." At this point, I am completely bewildered. Either Johns is making some kind of allegorical reference to the crazy astronaut love triangle kidnapping attempt, or the children of Victoria, TX are potty-trained late enough in life to still be in diapers when they're capable of being inspired by female role models. What possible conclusion could Johns draw from this? Only one:

"Whatever happened to little girls playing with dolls and dreaming of becoming wives and mothers? Whatever happened to young men looking for a good Christian wife and finding a young woman still clinging to her doll? Me, old fashioned? I guess. Me, a male chauvinist pig? To answer that I would have to say, 'Oink, oink, oink.'"

I need to give a special shout-out to the editors of the Victoria Advocate. It takes a certain type of editor to read Johns' letter and decide that yes, these diaper-filled ravings of a self-described old-fashioned chauvinist accurately represent the community views we want to showcase. That certain type of editor is called "comatose".

*Every time some motherfucker calls this site a blog, I earn a tiny amount of "blog credit", allowing me to provide blog-like information when I deem it necessary. This exhausts all credit earned in September and October.