The Westboro Baptist Church Attacked By Flying Monkeys
There are two types of people in the world: people who are members of the Westboro Baptist Church, and people who hate the Westboro Baptist Church.
True, there are people—they’re in New Guinea, I think—who have never heard of the Westboro Baptist Church. But all of them would gladly hate it, given the opportunity.
Let’s be clear about one thing: The WBC is by no means a Christian church of any kind. Every stripe of Christianity—meaning, everyone from Catholic clergymen to Pentecostal snake handlers—utterly rejects it as an offense to the gospel. Never before have I known such unanimity on a point of faith. It’s rather touching, in a stomach-turning sort of way.
The “church” is comprised of less than a hundred people, most of them relatives of a creepy old coot who serves as pastor—and who is deranged and megalomaniacal enough to be stroking a cat and threatening James Bond. Fortunately he is blessed with the sophistication of a tater tot, so his evil can contrive nothing more than petty cruelties against the weak and grieving.
Now to the picture. Maybe you assume that there’s an interesting story behind it, but there isn’t: I was just thinking that it might be a good idea if the Westboro Baptist Church were attacked by flying monkeys.
Be honest! You’ve thought the same thing.