Another edition of the Carnival of the Godless is available at a Pixelated Mind, who has outlined his notion of Necro-autobiographical Microfiction. And as usual,…
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There’s a great Carnival of Insanity to check out this week at Dr. Sanity. One of the tidbits there (in addition to the green babies…
Comments closedLet’s start off with a little dinner, put on by the Reverend Billy Gisher. Enjoy his satire, which is so deep you need a course…
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His year at the Holy Writ Reeducation Retreat was up, and later that day, Dr. Maximilian Tundra would be asked to renounce the Flying Spaghetti Monster and evolution.
Kissing off the FSM would be easy — he’d only been preaching his brand of Norse Pastafarianism to make fun of creationism — but evolution?
How did one renounce science? On the other hand, he felt like he would do whatever it took to get out of there, because he couldn’t imagine living through another day of what was, ironically, hell.
When he’d received his punishment for teaching evolution, the Judge had made the Reeducation Retreat sound like a combination of Dachau and the Inquisition, when in fact, it was more like summer camp, with lots of Bibles. And sleep deprivation.
Then there were Writ counselors, hypodermics and pharmaceuticals at the ready. That’s when they weren’t hugging you and asking if you’d accepted Jesus as your personal savior yet or asking you to sing spirituals along with them. A lot of these counselors were virginal young women; unfortunately these nubile believers also toted genital clamps for the wayward souls who showed any interest whatsoever in their chaste bodies. (Dr. Tundra had experienced this first hand, so to speak, after an inadvertent glance at Sister Brittany’s not-to-be-ogled ta-tas. It had taken a month for his tackle to work properly again.)
Yep, Jesus was going to be his savior.
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