Perhaps you remember Psychotic Meth Lab Preacher Guy, AKA “Pastor” Terry Jones AKA The Nutcase You Never Should Have Even Heard About In The First Place. There is actually no evidence that he cooks or smokes or otherwise uses meth, but sometimes the shoe fits, like you know how some guys act like stoners but they aren’t?
This is the visionary preacher genius who decided last year to retaliate against the United Muslim Earth Domination And ReEdumication Front, when they decided simultaneously along with every other Muslim on the planet to figuratively urinate on the graves of 9/11 widows by building a community center with a prayer section in it, in the general vicinity of Ground Zero.
I don’t know if you remember that controversy, because it was so low-key and productive and even-keeled. Mostly, a group of Americans who disagreed on the topic handled it the way we always do, by sitting cross-legged in the grass and softly speaking their minds in turn while each perspective and premise and relevant idea was considered carefully by all sides, and examined for merits and flaws.
That’s just America right there, productive discourse and respect for each other’s ideas followed by a handshake and possibly a backyard barbecue. Thanks for making me think, Gary. No, thank you Mitch, for helping me develop my ideas.
Yeah, not really. There was instead a bunch of screaming and then this nut showed up, said “I’m gonna start burning Qurans! Hee Haw!! Look at me, I’m a crazy meth lab preacher guy!”
So the media got right on it. Across the nation, editors slammed down their phones and pointed at their star reporters and said, “There’s a toothless lunatic out in the sticks shooting off his mouth like Yosemite Sam on a whiskey bender, and setting fire to sacred religious texts he’s never read and couldn’t possibly understand anyway! Get out there and give him his own television show!”
You got it, Boss, said Scoop Jackson. And so then it was kind of like Lollapalooza for a week or so, you know, chicks, guns, motorcycles, trampolines. Hamburger stands. Pogo sticks.
And then after that, as a nation, I think we were distracted by something shiny, because it all kind of stopped. Everyone just stopped barking about the Mosque exactly the way a neighborhood full of dogs settles down in the middle of the night, after a car alarm goes off.
And I guess ratings were down or something – this guy decided not to burn his Qurans after all. I called him up and asked him why he stopped and he said, quote: “Because I’m a big sissy girl.”
But I don’t think he was being honest with me. I think he decided not to burn the Qurans because he got an agent, and his agent said dude, that Quran-burning stuff might play in the sticks but you need to look at the bigger picture.
And he has been looking at the bigger picture. That’s why according to this article right here, he was heading to the U.K. to speak at a meeting of a right wing group called England Is Ours, though I think a better name for the group might be If You Are A Muslim Then England Is Not Yours.
I’m personally curious to hear what this backwoods swamp witch planned to say that couldn’t be Skyped over to the maybe 100 people who were planning to come and listen. It doesn’t seem like hating Muslims is that nuanced, you know? What is this, a seminar?
“You see, class, you want to light the Quran from one end and hold it from the other, so as not to burn your fingers. That’s right, good job Joey. Maxinne, nicely done, that’s some nice bookburnin’. Awww, damn it – Charlie! Charlie that’s a Bible, now quit screwing around, that’s the third one. If you’re not going to do it right, Charlie, then don’t do it at all. You’re just being ridiculous and ruining a perfectly good bookburning for everybody else!”
Or I don’t know, maybe it was going to be more like the kind of thing where he signs photographs of himself. Or maybe he gets fifty bucks a pop signing Quarans right before he burns them – supply and demand, baby.
Hey, listen, meth ingredients cost money and sure, this prick is somehow a church and doesn’t have to pay taxes, but he’s got to make a buck before he can not pay the taxes, right?
Sigh. Anyway, as further evidence that the Brits are cooler than us, here’s how they handled it. They said, where you going, tough guy? Oh, you’re coming here, for the big England Is Ours rally?
No, you’re not. Because England is actually ours, and we don’t let nasty, racist, scumsucking hate preachers in here, and yes, that’s official. Here’s your free tee shirt, get the hell out of here.
Seriously, read the article, that’s what they said, practically word for word. Okay maybe not, but here’s my favorite quote: “Coming to the U.K. is a privilege not a right.”
Let’s all reflect on that for a second. We made this walking mass of boogers into a star, and they just said, you know something. You’re gross. Beat it. And they have those cool accents, too, so you know they made him feel like a real idiot when they said it.
As you might imagine, it really hurt his feelings that they wouldn’t let him come to the hate rally in their country, because he has a daughter there. No doubt she’s just beaming with pride, right?
Barry Taylor, spokesman for England Is Ours Except Not Really, We’re Nuts, had this to say: “The idea isn’t to cause trouble or kick up a stink.”
Well, heavens, no, my good man! It’s just a rally about how there are too many Muslims. It’s about time we opened up a dialogue about how much we dislike other cultures and how much we admire people who hate and offend them.
Yes, England agreed. There are other countries for that. Knock yourself out.
Ah, but don’t worry. England Is Ours gets the last laugh, as Barry Taylor points out: “I understand Pastor Jones is planning some visits to nearby European countries and we will be able to go and visit him there.”
In other words, he doesn’t care if he’s not allowed to go to your party, because he’s going to a MUCH more rockin’ party down on campus, and guess what? England is SO not invited.
Which is great, but Barry – if England is so Yours, then don’t you think it’s kind of funny that you have to have your meetings in freaking Amsterdam?
I can assure you, sir – I think it’s very funny indeed.
PS – I don’t like you.