It's Oscars time. Somebody wake the Grouch.

Thursday, January 05, 2006

Someone's spiked Pat's coffee with mescaline again...

Pat Robertson claimed that Ariel Sharon's debilitating stroke was sent from God for "dividing God's land".

Now, as a Christian myself, Robertson's theological claims regarding the nature of the government of Israel and the "promised land" as described in the Bible, are something I would have some disagreement with.

As a Christian, a human being, a person well aware of his own sin and the grace that covers it, and someone still possessing enough of his mental faculties to not regularly behave like a loopy cad on national television (had I that access), Robertson's comments regarding Sharon's illness are an indication that Pat has not only spent too much time under hot television lights, but also, that he has gone barmy as a hegdehog in a balloon kiosk.

Doesn't Pat realize that if God sent divine punishment for every single stupid or incorrect thing we did regarding His Word and will, he would have been struck by lightning enough times to power Norfolk, Virginia through an AC outlet connected to his piehole for 30 years. (Which would currently be a much more productive use of said piehole.) He would have seen plagues that would have curled Cecil B. DeMille's thin hair like a fractal projection. Birds would attack him in the street with their own eggs. Toads would live in his pants, and the ground would swallow up his Lincoln Continental the way an NFL lineman inhales a single piece of Chex mix.

Don't get me wrong. Robertson has done some grand charity work at times, as well as other good deeds of note. I think he's sincere in many ways about his faith. However, the bloke is as sensitive as a piranha sometimes. He has the all the tact of a funeral director who keeps National Lampoon in the waiting rooms.

I wonder sometimes if he's the kind of vicar who would end a eulogy by announcing that the deceased was dearly loved by all his family and friends, which is a shame as he's on the express train straight to broiling hell right now. (Over the sudden crying and anger - "Oh, come on now! You all know it's true! The man was a foul, intemperate wretch who's having his posterior probed with a pitchfork as we speak!")

Someone please ask Ben Kinslow to stuff a large sock in his mouth any time there's a natural disaster or a celebrity comes down with an illness. Get someone to distract him with a colourful piece of string or better yet, a large fake camera with a happy and active red light to hold his gaze.

Mr. Robertson, please continue to help the needy but leave the talking (and probative thinking) to someone with functioning long-term memory and a consistent desire to draw people to Christ.

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