Monday, January 30, 2012

The Church of Awesome

Periwinkle Chronicles, tales of the citizens of Periwinkle [because all the other colors were already taken] County:

The Rev. Dr. Randall Nathan, (Retard), which is how they pronounce retired in Periwinkle County, or at least that’s what they tell him, was in his usual booth at My Cup Overfloweth Coffee House and Italian Suited Tarot Deck Center with a book of The Best Quotes about C. Raydean Davis {I never could C Raydean Davis} on the table in front of him, to keep anyone from sitting with him, lest he lose points in the Hermudgeon of the Year competition, hermudgeon being a conflation of hermit and curmudgeon, when Pastor Chip came in and slipped into the booth across from him.

“My new church is going real well,” said Pastor Chip. “We got a write-up on the Persimmon Momently Report blog, and we’ve hit it big on Faithbook and Chirper, lots of Chirps about us.”

“Anybody coming?” asked Dr. Nathan.

“That’s not how you measure success these days,” said Pastor Chip. “It’s a virtual world. People aren’t used to getting up and going to a bricks and mortar place. It’s all about how many people hit the Praise circle under a Faithbook post and how many Share it and how much publicity you get.”

“How do the Baptists feel about that?”

“Oh, we don’t call ourselves Baptists anymore. That’s too limiting. We’re The Church of the Awesome.”

“Nothing limiting about that,” observed Randall. “Can I get an Amen?”

“Oh, we don’t say Amen,” said Pastor Chip. “Everybody just clicks Like on their Faithbook page. We’ve taken it to the next level. There are some people who still come to the building, but we don’t use screens on the wall anymore. Each worshipper just uses the Awesome app on their smart phone. It’s no diff from everybody looking down at a hymnal.”

“So you still have a hymnal, then?”

“Of course not. They only have hymns nobody wants to sing.
We don’t have to worry about choosing hymns nobody likes anymore. Everybody just chooses what they like on the hymnal app and then tweets the # to the rest of the congregation and they click on Like.”

“A hymnal app?”

“Oh, yes. The great thing about a hymnal app is that it’s constantly updated. Just this week we added I’m ROTFLMAO at the Devil, and Awesome Dude, Take My Hand, and There Will be Equilibrium in the Valley, and Amazon.com Grace, and He’s the Hashtag of the Valley, and The Heavens Are Twitting the Glory of Awesome, and O For a Thousand Power Point Slides, and In the Organic Garden and Tweeter As the Years Go By, and Tweet, Tweet Spirit.”

“Sounds awesome,” said Randall.

“Oh, it is. The Church of Awesome® is so cutting edge™ that even Catholics are coming, so we put in some awesome for them. We have a drive-thru confessional.”

“How does that work?” asked Randall.

“The sign says it all,” replied Pastor Chip. “Toot & Tell or Go 2 Hel.©”

He pulled an ED out of his pocket.

“What are you doing now?” asked Randall.

“I’m calling on all my members, clicking Like on their Faithbook pages. That way they know I care about them. But I’ve got to get going.”

“Amen,” sighed Randall.

“No, no,” said Pastor Chip. “We say TTYL.”

***
The similarity between the activities in Periwinkle County and events in other places is rarely coincidental.

[“Christ in Winter,” Reflections On Faith For People In The Winter Of Their Years, can be found at http://christinwinter.blogspot.com/]

{If you would like to receive PC or CIW by email, let me know at jmcfarland1721@charter.net, and I’ll put you on the list.}






















Wednesday, January 18, 2012

In Line or On Person

Periwinkle Chronicles, tales of the citizens of Periwinkle [because all the other colors were already taken] County:

***

The Rev. Dr. Randall Nathan, (Retard), which is how they pronounce retired in Periwinkle County, or at least that’s what they tell him, was in his usual booth at the “Good to the Last Slop Coffee House and Colbert Nation Museum” peacefully sipping his Caribou Crunch Coffee, which is listed on the menu as Kariboo Krunch Kauphy, but he refuses to drink misspelled coffee, but likes CCC a lot, and does not like KKK, so he respells it in his moleskin notebook where he keeps his personal menus of the joints he frequents, when a man came in and grabbed the rubber boa constrictor The Rev. Dr. Nathan, (Retard) puts in the seat across from him in his booth so that nobody will sit there, lest he lose points in The Hermudgeon of the Year competition, “hermudgeon” being a conflation of hermit and curmudgeon, and said, “What the hell’s this?”

“A boa,” said Randall.

“Oh,” said Horace, and he wrapped it around his neck and sat down. “Haven’t seen you in a long time.”

“It’s been longer than that,” said Randall. “We’ve never met.”

“Yeah, but I recognize you from your picture at the post office, but I haven’t been there in a long time, so I haven’t seen you in a long time.”

“I’m Ran…”

“I know,” interrupted Horace, “you’re randy. I can see that. That’s my problem, too. And now they won’t let me into the Henry Ferd Community College over to the hard road, and they should never have named it after that anti-simian, anyway.”

“I didn’t realize that Henry Ferd was an anti-simian,” said Randall. “I thought he was just famous for inventing the automatic persimmon pervenator.”

“Oh, yeah, total anti-simian. Hated monkeys. Bamboos, too.”

“Don’t you mean baboons?”

“No, he thought they were okay, because they could be trained to use his pervenators. But he hated pandas, too, ‘cause they’ve got those disposable thumbs and can’t use the pervenators, so he hated bamboos, ‘cause pandas like to eat them, you know.”

“What does this have to do with them not letting you into the Community College?”

“Well, it said in ‘The Old Weird Harold’ that you could register online or in person. I didn’t want to stand in line, and I’m a person, so I just went out there and right through their front doors and there wasn’t even any line, just this woman with big balloons sitting there at a desk. Must have been left over from a party. But she said I’d have to get into their computer, and durned if I’m going to do that. I’ve read all about them things. They steal your id. You realize how hard it is to get along at my age without an id? Now, if they’d steal my super-ego, that would be okay, but not my id.”

“I think that’s I-D instead of id,” said Randall.

“I got no eye-dee what you’re talking about.”

“It’s pronounced id…”

“Oh, yeah, I know that. Beware the ids of Marge. I’ll tell you, that woman’s got an id like you wouldn’t believe.”

That was when Randall Nathan flipped the switch on the remote control that causes his rubber boa to start constricting.

***
The similarity between the activities in Periwinkle County and events in other places is rarely coincidental.

[“Christ in Winter,” Reflections On Faith For People In The Winter Of Their Years, can be found at http://christinwinter.blogspot.com/]

{If you would like to receive PC or CIW by email, let me know at jmcfarland1721@charter.net, and I’ll put you on the list.}