Say "Amen," somebody

Hello, Christians. Please accept my apologies for my silence of late, but I'm in utter disbelief that so many of our fellow Americans would even consider a Republican congressman asking teenage boys to measure their penises and the alleged "cover-up" to be newsworthy for so long. I've been looking high & low for non-penis related news items to blog about, but Foleypalooza and those 7.5 inches of teenage wang seem to be the only thing anyone wants to talk about.

Relief from all that adolescent tubesteak came in the form of the new documentary, Jesus Camp, which Jesus & I protested this afternoon. Jesus Camp's underlying message, I believe, is that the continued success of the Evangelical movement requires that our dogma not exceed the basic comprehension of 8 year olds, a theme I've also come to recognize through years of reading my Prayer Warriors. Additionally, it stresses the importance of making our children willing to kill for God and Country, much like Palestinian children are itching to blow themselves up for Islam and Fidel Castro. The young Muslims' willingness to do this for their Godless death cult is quite a source of alarm for Becky Fischer, the frost-tipped Valkyrie who runs the camp for our young warriors. And quite honestly, when you consider how much more hardship and persecution Christians in America are subjected to (like Harry Potter, a subject of one of Mrs. Fischer's spittle-flecked rants in the film) than those poor "beleaguered" Palestinians, the dearth of teenage Christian suicide bombers really makes me question the effect illegal immigration is having on Our Nation's work ethic. But that is a blog entry for another time...

I haven't cheered so loudly at a movie since The Passion of the Christ! And seeing how integral Christian Cosmetology is to delivering America to His Glory splashed on the silver screen was gratifying. beyond words... like being Instalaunched, but only by the Big Dude Himself. I am referring, of course, to young Rachael, this film's brightest star. In one scene, we see her savor girlhood's sweetest dream: becoming a manicurist so she can bring her clients to Christ while doing their nails. "Oh, Rachael," I wanted to cry out, "if only it were that simple!" Ever since The Left got God kicked off the curriculum at America's beauty colleges, the manicurist's chair has been as off limits to a Christian as the state of Vermont... or at least that's been my experience. Hopefully restoring America's beauty parlors to Christ once and for all tops their list of priorities.

Anyway, back to the movie. It was truly intended for audience participation, so bring your bullhorns and tambourines. I couldn't help but stand up in my seat and start speaking in tongues along with my on-screen brethren when they began offering prayers up to the cardboard President Bush, or when they Blessed the Power Point presentation and prayed for its successful overhead projection, or when little Rachael commanded Jesus to guide her bowling ball on a straight path down the lane. In a cruel twist of fate, the theater was full of Michelle Malkin's liberal email correspondents, who tried once again to rob me of my civil liberties by reciting the usual liberal talking points of "Sit the fuck down, lady" and "Shut your ass up, you crazy bitch." Can anyone else smell a lawsuit that Laemmle's allows that sort of anti-Christian harrassment on their premises?

Sadly, it wasn't all cinematic sweetness and light. The great villian figure here comes in the form of Air America nonpersonality Mike Papantonio, who recited the usual Marxist cant of separation of church and state with the dead-inside drone of a zombie. It was chilling to see these people so unquestioning to their Godless ideology, and then it hits you: My God! There's millions of them! I leave you with that sobering thought, Christians. Praise Him!