This weekend I was inadvertently drawn into a fun little twitter war and called a demon by a woman from the Westboro Baptist Church. For those of you who don’t know or just haven’t put the name with the kooks, the Westboro Baptist Church are the “god hates fags” guys that protest soldiers’ funerals and gleefully remind us that we’re all doomed and going to hell and it’s pretty much all because of the wanton gayness of the gays. It’s worth mentioning that the god that the WBC worships is not a nice god at all. He lays down ‘godsmacks’ which encompass everything from 9-11 to tornadoes to little kids getting killed by drunk drivers. Whenever something bad happens, the WBC show up with their signs, which are profoundly offensive, and their beaming smiles to tell the devastated mothers of the recently deceased about how it’s our nation’s tolerance of the sodomite lifestyle that has caused god to smack them. They’re STOKED on people having their lives ruined. They’re excited for the anniversary of 9-11 which they refer to as some sort of ultimate godsmack. (It should be mentioned at this point that I REALLY like the fact that they use the name of that horrible band to promote their shitty agenda. That said, Godsmack the band is about a million times more acceptable than the Westboro Baptists, and that’s really saying something because Godsmack effortlessly coaxes the jizz from dog balls). That makes a lot of sense, when you consider that as religious wackos, they’re probably pretty attuned to the ravings and actions of other religious wackos. They have gone on record as saying that Osama is A) in hell but B) someone who was sent by god to send a message about doom, which seems to imply that getting into the WBC heaven is probably harder than getting into a tight, young teen butthole. They’ve got pretty advanced and detailed ideas of hell and in general, but you never ever hear them talk about heaven as far as I can tell.
The big thing about the WBC is that they’re pretty much just one family, helmed by patriarch Fred Phelps, who’s presumably the one behind all the awesome signs and the lunatic ravings. In the eyes of Phelps, the America is doomed. There’s no repenting at this point. We’re fucked, and we’re gonna be getting sucked into a dungeons and dragonsy version of Hades’ where it’s gonna be painful and cold and full of demons who eat your tongue and peel the skin from your face. Why? Because you don’t hate gays enough. Even if you hate them, you’re not REALLY hating them like you mean it. Sorry. You’re doomed. You’ll see.
This guy spends so much time thinking about gayness and sodomy and cock that there’s really only one (not too taxing on the imagination) conclusion to draw. He’s gayer than Christmas, he is too cowardly to be gay. He’s jealous of those people brave enough to get out there and suck cocks. He’s angry with himself, he’s angry with everyone who gets to have their needs met in the way they most desire. As a result, his brain has rotted a little and next thing you know, he’s wearing Oakley blades and standing down the road from a dead soldier’s funeral with his kids and grandkids wildly screaming about fags while people throw things at them from moving cars.
The thing is, the WBC is so universally despised that they literally get protested by the Klan. The Klan, it’s worth noting, is a patriot organization and while they hate gays as much as the next guy, they’re not gonna back the picketing of dead soldiers and patriots. I didn’t really think that the Klan and I had ANY mutual enemies or similar notions about who is/isn’t an asshole. But that’s what’s so great about the WBC. They’re so completely down the road and around the corner from sanity that EVERYONE hates them and they just hate the shit out of everyone in return. Pretty wild stuff. I mean, when you’re too far out for the Klan AND you’re too far out for people that anonymously participate in bathhouse orgies, you’ve pretty much covered the spectrum. And so yeah. I’m stoked as shit that this lady called me a demon.
Twitter is great for this very reason: people you only read about and/or see on tv are right there and sometimes they talk to you. And every once in a while they may even call you a demon if you’re truly wicked enough. That’s pretty rad.