PZ reports on the Rapture Ready response to an atheist summer camp. Nothing that was not predictable, of course. (ETA: I forgot to mention, but should, that the germ of the idea for this verse came from commenter “William”, here. Thanks, William!)
But I have to wonder if the Rapture Ready people have ever actually been to church camp. Ok, sure, some of them probably are conservative, staid, boring and godly camps, where same-sex groups gather to read scripture and look down on others. But that was not my experience. The following… was. The names are changed slightly to protect the innocent*, and to tell the truth I was not a terribly active participant in all the fooling around that was going on, but if anything it was far more than my report here alludes.
I remember Church Camp as a very happy place
Where adolescents gathered with each other, face to face,
And hormones started racing at a rather frightening pace,
And Jesus Christ was nowhere to be found.
I remember rainy days, and soggy, smoldering fires
With teenaged girls and teenaged boys and teenage strong desires,
And all the earthy fantasies that such a place inspires
And, Jesus Christ, we loved to mess around.
I remember Sarah, with her long and gorgeous hair;
She wore a string bikini, and she didn’t seem to care
If it slipped a couple inches while the counselors would stare,
And Jesus Christ himself would find her hot.
I remember Christie, with the braces on her smile;
The daughter of a preacher, she was very versatile,
And we knew that making friends with her was very worth our while,
And Jesus Christ protect us if we’re caught!
I remember learning about what the Bible meant,
Though I never really listened more than one or two percent;
My attention held by how the girls could help me pitch a tent,
And, Jesus Christ, I grew to love that place!
I remember going hiking, going swimming, playing games,
I remember every crush I had—I still recall their names—
Though I rather doubt such memories would fit the church camp aims…
But Jesus Christ? He never showed his face.
(* “Sarah” was actually Sara, and at age 17 she married a man she met at camp, when he was a counselor and she was 14, but looked 18. They spent a lot of time together that year. “Christie” was actually Christine, and a very sweet girl. I think she was my very first meaningful kiss.)
The Ridger, FCD says
Ah, church camp… Sweet memories.I really like the format of this one, Cuttle. Waiting to see how you were going to work JC into each final line.
Podblack says
Didn't go to camp, but I remember that my Catholic Uni held one. I think that it was more satanic than ecclesiastic, the accounts I heard… must be 'part of the experience'. :p
Howard says
I really like the format of this oneI immediately recognized the form as the same as this pre-WWII, "under the counter" party record about an old whore, "Myrtle Isn't Fertile Anymore," (.mp3 link) tentatively identified in the comments at the Internet Archive as Bob Tank on Hollywood Hot Shots 373(L 0462).I've no idea if Cuttlefish was thinking the same thing, but we've got a dandy melody all ready to go in case we want to record it.
Veronica says
Ha. That reminds me of the "lock ins" the big church in my hometown used to have.