Spoof Issue: Column: The day I found Jesus

Reader’s Note: This story is satirical and was published in a spoof issue.

I found Jesus. Now I finally know what to say to people when they ask me, “Have you found Jesus?” I know now, after all these years, I can reply correctly with “Yes, I found him. Jesus is just a tissue of tears and an extra-large bag of popcorn away at the local Cineplex in the form of a Mel Gibson film called ‘The Passion of the Christ.'” Yes, I most certainly have found Jesus. But that is not the only thing I have found.

Sitting next to an overweight girl from Westboro Baptist Church, tears balling from her eyes, watching Gibson’s movie, I finally found to be true what evangelical Christians have been trying to say to me all these years. I finally realized the truth when I found Jesus: God really does hate fags!

This realization did not come easily. Something had to hit me during the movie for it to come. No, it was not a goober from the back row, where the good Christian boys were yelling “fag” at me. It was not even the Baptist preacher telling everyone that God would want them to hate me for being a homosexual. No, what hit me during the film was the big burly man in the front row who turned around, while Jesus was being nailed to the cross for other people’s sins, and punched me right in the gut in the name of God for being gay. That is when the realization came. That is when I learned the truth about God.

It took me so long to grasp the truth because I was always under the impression that God was about love and charity and good will. Boy, was I wrong! I know now, from good Pastor Mel, what God and Jesus are really about. God is really about blaming people for things. You know, like blaming the Jews for killing Jesus, and blaming the gay people down the street for ruining your sanctimonious marriage. I know now, that to be a good Christian, I must focus on blaming others for my problems. I must focus on being an angry, god-fearing human. I must be straight, because straight people are never wrong in God’s eyes. I know now what is God’s truth and what truly is the good word.

Since my realization about what Christianity really stands for, I have discovered that being straight is not really that difficult at all. In fact, I have learned that being gay is most certainly a choice that I simply do not have to make. No longer do I have to be a slave to sequins and lip gloss. That certainly is not Christian. No longer do I have to emulate Madonna and Cher. Jesus would certainly forbid that. And no longer do I have to scream “Barbara Streisand” at the top of my lungs outside on my dorm’s balcony.

Besides learning that I do not have to be gay, I have also learned that I can be straight. Vaginas may be scary little creatures, but I can learn to love them. Jesus would want me to. Plus, I will save money on anal beads and lube. Indeed, I already have learned to love the pussy. Why, just last night I had sex with a hooker. I know God was looking down on me with delight while Miss Candy Cane and I made sweet Christian love. And I know Jesus was still looking down with a smile even after I discovered what Candy Cane stood for.

While God is happy that I am having straight sex with hookers now, I also know that there is more to being straight than just having raunchy sex. I know it is also about being stupid and playing with yourself in public. In fact, I have already stopped reading intellectual things. I now read Maxim and Stuff while I effortlessly grab my crotch and re-adjust my junk. I even have got the “Hey, there’s a load in my pants” straight walk down to a “t.”

Yes, I most certainly am Christian and straight and proud. Just last night I beat up two homos for being, well, you know, homos. God and Pastor Mel must be so proud of me.

-The writer, a former flaming homosexual, found God and embraced heterosexuality last week.

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