WWJK

Okay, before I even get to Katrina, you're probably wondering why I have intentionally avoided talking about one of the most inflammatory media quotes of recent days. It's not because I've been reeling in disbelief. Trust me. When Christian leaders make stupid statements in public, it just doesn't faze me anymore. I consider the source, which -just so there is no confusion- is not God.

Consider the Reverend Fred Phelps, out of Topeka, Kansas, who pickets the funerals of dead homosexuals, and whose website is godhatesfags.com. Or the Reverend Jerry Falwell, from Lynchburg, Virginia, who claimed that 9-11 was God's punishment for the evils of homosexuality and abortion. Then, a man close to my heart, the Reverend Pat Robertson, also from Virginia, who made some pretty dumb-ass statements just a week ago.

For the record, I may be a Christian, but THESE GUYS DON'T SPEAK FOR ME!! I know I may say a lot of stupid stuff myself, but thank God nobody is listening. This is not the case with Robertson and his 700 Club.

On Thursday, August 23rd, Robertson called for the death of Venezuelan president, Hugo Chavez. Begging for U.S. special operatives to "take him out", rather than face another billion dollar war. Later, of course, he suggested that "take him out" could have meant mere kidnapping. Even later, he issued a half-ass apology, on his website, that basically defended his assassination plea.

The media has already had a field day with this faux pas, as they should. So, I wont beat a dead horse. But I do have one question for Pat:
Had you been truly blessed with the gift of prophesy, how would you feel about Hugo Chavez's mother opting for an abortion?

Now, the cat that lives with me, Jason Hill, actually saw the inciting broadcast, and he begged me to post his open letter to Pat. Far be it from me to censor a cat.

Dear Pat,
You don't know me, but I was taking a trip to the litter box last Tuesday and I caught your show, the $700 Question. Let me tell you - the hair on the back of my neck stood straight up, and I stopped dead in my tracks. Peaking my curiosity enough to keep me from the box is really saying something, 'cause I've got a bitch of a bladder infection. In fact, if you think about it, you might want to send up a little prayer on my behalf. I would do it myself, but I don't have a soul.

Frankly, I don't normally watch your 700,000 show. I prefer Regis and Kelly, or, at least, Leno. It's always good to work some animals into your format. Might want to think about that one. Have you seen your ratings?
Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh! Yaaaaaahhhhhhh! KAAAACHHAAAAAA! GOTCHA! Ya hairy little bitch!!

Sorry Pat. That was not directed at you. It's just that I can't let that little bastard go by without pouncing his sorry ass. Ah, there's the rub.

You see, besides the three humans that live here, there is another entity. They call him Harrison, and he is a pain in my ass. Honestly, and if you met him you would probably concur, I think he's possessed. The sounds that come out of that cat are pure evil. Like a tiny, obnoxious demon. But don't get any ideas about having the first ever cat on your 70 Center Club, just so you can perform some sort of kitty exorcism. Trust me, that's not any kind of publicity you want after those comments the other day. Besides, I have no proof, but I think he's gay on top of everything else. I see the way he looks at me sometimes. You probably don't want that on your conscience. And neither do your constituents.

The fact of the matter is, I have been trying to get out of here for a long time. Things didn't work out with Kevin and Britney and BitBit. The conditions around here aren't all that bad. It's just really, really hard living with such a whiny bitch. You probably know what I mean? And then I heard what you said on the tv. And I thought, maybe you could call for the special ops to "take out" Harrison. It would be so much easier than some Venezuelan president. I could even give you his hours. 24/7 he's here. Laying around on his lazy ass. Easy prey for the sharpshooters. I am, frankly, tired of swallowing his potent white fur.

So, thank you. Thank you Mr Robertson, for speaking your mind. Now could you do me a favor and "take him out"? Oh, here he comes again. Gotta go. I'm gonna WHOOP THAT TRICK!!! AAAAAAHHHHHHH! YAAAAAAAHHHHH!

Oh yeah.
Sincerely,
Jason Hill