Naturally upon being informed of this by a fellow member of the Episcopalian Commentariat I immediately commenced work on a homily notifying my global readership of the greatest calamity to have faced the Communion since witnessing unbelievers being hung, draw and quartered ceased to be classified as family entertainment. Yet only moments later came a second notification from my esteemed source: little Matt had taken exception to our assisting his search for the errant kitty, and demanded we cease and desist, implying that our concern for his wife’s wayward pussy was in some way not “classy”.
Now as a Conservative Bible-based Orthodox Schismatic Anglican “classy” is, I must confess, a somewhat foreign concept to me. Nonetheless, sensing that Mr. Kennedy was inferring that the subject of my homily would in some way cause weaker brethren such as himself to stumble, I decided to abandon the work in question. Yet thanks to the Mr. Kennedy’s unsurpassable experience in ministry, as revealed at Viagraville (where else?) Christendom remains unenlightened no longer. That’s right, being “classy” involves using the murder of a man far, far greater, and far, far braver than little Matt can ever hope to be as an excuse to equate mutually loving relationships between consensual adults with pedophilia. It involves demanding the government refrains from involving itself with trivialities like health care and education, but observes and intimately controls what consenting adults choose to do in the privacy of their own bedrooms - imprisoning and executing those whose love follows paths different to those down which Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy and their moggy meander.
In short, we've now all seen that being “classy” involves showing one’s true colors, which in the case of Matt Kennedy and his evil ideological consorts include bloody hands and a corpse-green heart. And so, in a spirit of pure gratitude for their transparency, I respond by dedicating to them the following:
The gloves are off now Pharisees. You ain’t seen nothing yet. Don’t say you haven’t been warned. I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible. You're not, and you worship Moloch.