Seriously, how can I not post about Falwell? Though the e-mail merge to all bloggers has not yet reached me, it just stands to reason that it is almost a requirement to post something about him. Even the food and knitting sites are busily scribing their entries.
My immediate first thought was: "Satan finally can breathe a sigh of relief that some of the competition is now gone."
Almost right after that I thought of a cultural reference that probably sums it all up better. Think Star Wars, Episode IV: A New Hope.
"If you strike me down now, I will become more powerful than you can possibly imagine." However, instead of Obi-Wan saying it to Darth, I imagined Jerry saying it to g-d.
Almost right after I though that, but didn't write it, I had sent the word out to a my email pals about his
untimely death, Ditto wrote back saying: "I thought I felt a sigh of relief in The Force". I never think of Dith as a Star Wars geek, so maybe she was just saying it for my benefit, or I was channeling OWK vibes and sent them her way. Dunno.
I was going to put an image up with Jer in his pastoral dressing just to remind people he was a man of g-d. Old Testament though. Fire. Brimstone. Turning people to pillars of salt. Tearing babies in half. Whales. 40 days. 40 years. Plagues.
Jerry wasn't interested in any of the shit Jebus taught: Love. Kindness. Forgiveness. Eternal life. Fish. Loaves.
Oh he claimed to be interested, but the old g-d ruled by fear. Jerry took to that like....well, fill in your own trite phrasing. No one was safe.
So the douchebag is dead. Unfortunately, what he cultivated over the last few decades lives on and will without him. There is a new breed out there, but I don't think they have the clout he wielded. Not even Pat Robertson. Definitely not Ted Haggard.
I keep picturing the look on his face up at the Pearly Gates right as he realizes that St. Pete is hitting the button for the Big.Trap.Door.
I'm in DC now, where it's like 85F. I'm assuming it's a bit warmer wherever Jerry is right now.