Thursday, November 23, 2006

 

Jesus' Whore and Her Two Pimps

"Blessed be the Lord who daily loads us with benefits." (Psalm 68:19)

... and for the small fee of only $68.19 each month, 'prosperity minister' and 'church' offerings whore, Paula White, gladly accepts cash, which she describes as "seed" money -- ceding from you to her -- so she and christian pimp broadcasters Trinity and Daystar Networks can lay their hands on it to provide the mustard for their mansion's cupboards. You, the offerer, get dust from excavations of their new constructions.

Paula, while waiting to get wet with some guy named "John".

They call her 'Dr. Paula'. Paula has the moxie to request from the flocked $68.19/month to the cent, apparently for personal transcendentals such as two new closets for her high heels and handbags. Paula's trailer trash and has a PhD in flim-flam from The Calvary School of Pharisaicology. She easily plies her street-walking sense of personal pecuniary salvation by luring and taking for the fullest what are either desperate, greedy, stupid or desperately greedy and stupid people hoping and praying for financial manna by ceding the $68.19/month toward her heavenly rewards instead of their own IRAs.

Her presentation is all very dramatic and sexy as one would expect. She sashays into the parlor's studio providing just 270 odd phones to call in and fulfill Psalm $68.19's new seediness, with the "us" in that tune being them. Then, Paula runs a tele-tally of phones still available to help lead the soon-to-be shorn toward her rapture. Her siren moves in inverse crescendo to the changing numbers on the screen, culminating with the final score: Phones left for salvation, zero, callers coughing up credit, 270. This tacky trick serves as her bastardly altar call altered into a call for the offering instead of ministry.

The ministered and serviced? They get her grubby hands laid onto a pile of papers representing the expected manna grab, and a solicitation for more to come. A stele-ing of her girders, if you will.

From this side of reason, it all looks like a mix of phone sex and phylactories. Get me Jesus on the line, for Christ sake!

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