Some years ago, whilst temporarily suspended from Ministry as the result of a trivial misunderstanding concerning a few threatening letters and a home-made incendiary device (which despite allegations by the godless atheist forensic scientists investigating, was technically not thermonuclear in construction), I was forced to seek employment outside of my vocation.
Although not yet formally known as Global Anglicanism's Leading Doctrinal Warrior, I was nonetheless massively over-qualified for most advertised positions. Indeed: were it not for my brilliant ability to speak authoritatively about nothing for hours at a time (a skill finely-honed through years of Conservative exegetical preaching) maintaining the lifestyle to which I have been called might have proven impossible. As it was, however, I simply proclaimed myself as the world's finest Caucasian feng-shui master, and consultation fees began rolling in from wherever infomercial channels were foolish enough to let me advertise on credit.
Naturally this isn't something I generally make public: these days the big-money end of Evangelical giving prefers their heresies to be of a Donatist/Gnostic kind. Yet there's no denying the legacy of this profitably superstitious interlude on my journey to Orthodox Supremacy, and thus it is that I find myself unable to resist offering all My Beloved Sinners a Special Blessing to mark today's auspicious date. Besides, nobody has ever been able to give me one good reason as to why the Lectionary doesn't formally recognize the contribution made to Christianity by Spinal Tap.
Consequently I present this delightful image for you to all print, frame, and hang wherever it might inspire you daily contemplate the future of our Church. Sent to me directly from the Diocese of Mordor - a place so perverse that I have been told it is currently Spring, and not Fall as is the case in Christian nations - it features little Dobby Ould modelling his Lord Jensen's latest statement in Summer vestments. Surrounding the house-elf (who, incidentally, can't possibly be a racist on account of the fact that he's sired three offspring with an Asian woman - irrespective of the filth he shamelessly endorses) is a splendid collection of evango-fundie ministry tools.
Study it closely, My Beloved Sinners. For this is the future of the glorious Anglican schism.
I'm Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
8 comments :
I think I saw that talentless twurp on a ¨Friends of Fox¨ interlude...it´s amazing just how many artistas there are who need to be institutionalized (hope they have to pay for it on there own as naturally, these dirty dude/dudettes hate national health care).
Victoria Secreto-Gomezington,
Fiesty Nun
WV: edinguss--yes, I think he´s got it!
I have looked at the picture closely and there is much to be admired about it. I am wondering about the location of the hand held gun, however. Is this about projection?
Fr. Maxwell Smart+
It's all about projection with his sort, Father Smart.
I think we can gather from this that it's not his EYE that offended him...
What a fine figure of a man! God was so pleased with His creation when Dobby was conceived, He made two of them. We have one in England - an unemployed curate obsessed with men's bottoms. Sadly, non-racist Dobby has more hair on his chest than his twin brother has on his head. I understand he is known as a hairless bear.
Dobby's latest thesis at Viagraville suggests Dostoevsky was really a Sydney Calvinist. It is little wonder the young house-elf is attracted to the morality of a nation which produced the KGB and the Russian Mafia. Just like the Diocese of Mordor!
Father Biggin:
Having demonstrated that complete ignorance of evolutionary biology need not be any impediment to proclaiming oneself an expert on the subject, as well as having displayed a delightful Nazi penchant for willfully confusing 'species" with 'race', it's quite understandable that Deacon David Ould of St. Augustine's Neutral Bay, Sydney Australia* should now feel drawn to an author who emerged from the deep-seated tradition of Russian anti-Semitism.
Besides, in later life Dostoevsky became compulsively addicted to gambling - just like Dobby's master, little Peter Jensen. Although Dostoevsky frittered away his own assets, unlike Jensen, who wisely chose to blow those of his parishioners instead.
*(I've thoughtfully provided Dobby's full address in order to make it easier for anyone googling the expression "loathsome fundamentalist racism" to find a preacher with eugenic predilections)
Did you relaize that 11 11 11 11 11 equals 55?
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