Like me, you’ve probably all been wondering why little Bobby Duncan and his Senior Cultists keep racking up frequent-flyer miles at a rate normally only enjoyed by drug mules and Bishops with successful publishing deals. (Yes, Beloved Sinners, there is a difference. At least I think there is.)
After all, now that their sect is established there’s surely no need to keep the circus on the road, and as every single one of their clergy and parishioners knows more Christian Truth than any other person alive (with the exception of myself, of course), it’s hardly as if they can learn anything by having guest preachers visit. Besides, with more prelates than parishioners the contents of their collection plates must be getting stretched pretty thin as it is, without the added expense of ensuring the bodies of ACNA’s upper echelons spend as much time as possible in the same clouds in which their heads reside. So why do they keep feeling such an overwhelming compulsion to minister to the personnel of America’s airports? Surely it can’t just be a secret attraction to the young men and women at the stands selling racy paperbacks?
Thanks to Bishop Quinine this mystery is now solved, and we are all greatly indebted to him for his research. After conducting Matins last week he felt a clear calling in his spirit to enter the phrase “sex tapes and leaked nudie pics” into Google, which as an obedient and faithful servant of the Scriptures he then did without hesitation. And just just look at what he found!!! (Don’t worry: the link is completely work-safe, although Matt Kennedy may have some problems explaining the title when Hostillium completes her daily check of his browsing history.)
That’s right: going through airport security now involves letting someone point a camera at you that takes pictures exactly like what you’d hoped to see when as a kid you sent away for those x-ray glasses advertised in the back of comic books. And after reading this account of what people whose careers advisor encouraged them to leave school and stare at an x-ray screen for eight hours every day have been doing, Bishop Quinine couldn’t get down to our local airport fast enough.
That’s right: every morning he’s been buying himself a ticket on the cheapest flight available and walking in and out of security as many times as they’ll let him: after completing his scan he claims to have left something behind in the car, or that he needs to purchase urgent medication (which is probably closer to the truth than anyone realizes), or that he’s received a call from a desperate parishioner – whatever it takes to get back out those doors and in line for another examination. Then just prior to take-off he cashes in his ticket and comes home in time for Evening Prayer. Before falling asleep exhausted with the kind of happy-but-troubling smile you only ever seem to find on schismatic Bishops.
Which is undoubtedly not unlike what the ACNA travelers are themselves getting up to. Nor are thrills simply restricted to exhibitionism: when Bishop Quinine’s feeling particularly romantic he opts for the new ‘enhanced’ body pat-down procedure instead. If that isn’t tailor-made to meet all the requirements of today’s repressed Conservative leader I don’t know what is. Hopefully we can all expect them to soon start looking a lot more relaxed. Although I suspect TSA officers will soon be demanding higher pay.
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.