Y’know, Twitter is an odd thing. All these people I’ve never met, together at a virtual cocktail party where they can snoop on other conversations, pontificate on weighty or trivial topics, and take a drink from the firehose of public opinion on any topic they care to. I’m not certain how I feel about it. But anyway, one of my recent Twitter followers is author of a book and host of a website, both of which tout the Bible as the cure for pornography addiction. I’m thinking perhaps this person didn’t take a really good look at my blog before deciding to follow my tweets. Either that, or he’s a porn viewer so deep in the closet that he knows half of Narnia personally.
So, as a public service for him, one of the first verses ever on this blog–in fact, posted on Pharyngula before this blog even existed (which, of course, means that a total of like 6 people saw it here, after thousands saw it there). As the second post of Cuttlefish Pledge Break, I give you the Eulogy of Gary Aldridge (based on true events, of course).
We gather here to eulogize
The Pastor and the Man
Old Gary Aldridge, often wise,
Though not his latest plan.
A member of the Christian nation,
Friend of Jerry Falwell,
His last attempt at masturbation
Didn’t go at all well.
For fifteen years, he’d preached the word
A Southern Baptist minister
His death–now, is it just absurd
Or something rather sinister?
How does a person come to wear
Not one wetsuit, but two?
(Although, I know, I should not care
I’m curious–aren’t you?)
I tend to think that, years ago,
He spied a rubber glove,
And wondered “Should I–well, you know–
When God and I make love?”
He tried it on, and found a tube,
Half hidden on his shelf,
Of KY–smiled, and murmered “Lube
Thy neighbor as thy self.”
And minutes later, hard at work,
He felt a little odd
Was this a sin, or just a quirk?
He talked it out with God.
“Is what I’m doing here a sin?
Or is my pleasure Thine?
Is this as bad as skin on skin?
Lord, please, give me a sign!”
So God produced a pamphlet: “Your
Vacation in Aruba!”
And pointed out–right there, page four–
The wetsuits used for SCUBA
See, God’s not really how you think
A deity might be
He’s got a wicked bondage kink
(Just ask His son, J. C.)
So Gary died, not steeped in sin
But following God’s plan;
So straight to Heaven–come on in!
And bring the wetsuits, man!
A story, sure, but it may yet
Explain what happened then.
The moral is, please don’t forget:
Your safeword is “Amen”.
Oh, my goodness, that is fabulous! How in the world did you come– er, happen to be inspired to write about Gary Aldridge? (For the record, I found you in a quick search for Aldridge, as an unusual number of hits have been coming– er, arriving on my site for Aldridge today, and I was wondering if something new about his most embarrassing demise might have made the news.) If I ask very nicely (and flatter you some more), do you think you might permit me to reprint your wonderful poem on Conservative Babylon? Half my readers would love it, and the other half would send me (more) hate mail. (Which is always a sign I'm doing something right.) In any case, wonderful stuff. Just starting to dig into the rest of your work now. Kudos!
Reprint away! To answer your question, I read of the demise of the right reverend Mr. Aldridge on Pharyngula; it's astonishing, the number of instances of this sort show up there.I do see a handful of extra hits for Aldridge; I wonder what's up?
Thank you so much! I'll put it up as soon as I finish my latest batch of monotheist miscreants. The only "news" I can find for Gary Aldridge consists of a few press releases which made me wonder momentarily if the Ballgagged Baptist hadn't risen from the grave to pursue a new career — but no; the subject is some unfortunately-named fellow who's been making the rounds giving speeches at a handful of small-business conferences lately; e.g.:http://tinyurl.com/28yjsmrI imagine some of the attendees have been Googling the poor man… and I imagine if I were he, I'd change my name, quick-smart.