Showing posts with label Sister Cindy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sister Cindy. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

The lake . . . of . . . FIIIRRRRRRRRE!

I have been reliably informed there's been a Brother Jed and Sister Cindy sighting at the the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. And memories from three decades ago come flooding back. . . .

You know, I don't hold with their theology and methodology (about a step above the Rev. Fred "God Hates Fags" Phelps), but you have to give the street-preaching couple props for sheer longevity and ability to take abuse from college kids.

Back in the day, Brother Jed Smock and Sister Cindy Lassiter (this was before she married Jed) told me and a bunch of Louisiana State "whores" and "whoremongers" that we were all going to hell. And then Cindy hit me in the head with a Bible.

OK, so I had ever-so-slightly lifted the hem of her granny skirt to see whether she was wearing granny boots, but still. . . .

IT WAS ALL great street theater, and everybody seemed to have a good time (except for the Catholic nun Cindy assaulted one day for being . . . Catholic) but I don't think anyone was particularly edified.

Or converted to any faith that showed poor sinners Christ as He might wish to be understood.

As a matter of fact, the one-two punch of religious buffoonery gave a lot of us two more excuses to stay the hell away from this Jesus nut and His nutty-ass spokespersons. I wonder how many of us gave the Galilean another chance once Sister Cindy had bellowed "the lake . . . of . . . FIIRRRRRRRE!" one last time and moved on to the next campus on the itinerary.

For me, it was the better part of a decade -- as I neared the end of a rope called "My Own Devices."

Nevertheless, I don't think Jed and Cindy would be pleased in any way, shape or form about my encounter with the living God. In fact, I'm pretty sure they think I'm still aiming to do some napalm wakeboarding.

You see, I became a Catholic.

And if Cindy lays hands on another nun. . . .