I grew up with faith promoting stories. These are little daily snippets of life among the Saints, meant to show us just how TRUE Joseph’s church really is. A couple of days ago I ran across one meant to show the importance of wearing the Garment of the Holy Priesthood, better known to Gentiles as the Mormon Funny Underwear.

Retelling of faith promoting story will now commence.

Apparently, during some war or another, a soldier refused to take off his garments, despite some ribbing from the other soldiers. Other soldiers were of COURSE very impressed with said soldier’s faith and quiet dedication to his religion. Some of them decided to investigate Mormonism. They met and discussed God on Sundays with said Soldier. Then, during a particularly wicked firefight, the soldier’s foxhole was bombed. When they found his body, his arms, legs, and head were burned off, but not ONE part of his body covered by the garments was even singed. Every one of those soldiers came home from the war and joined the Mormon Church.

A moment of silence please.

What can we learn from this? Mormons think soldiers are STUPID, with a capital S?

Who the hell comes UP with this shit? What is the moral here? If you wear your sacred garments your most important parts (read your brain, your arms, your legs, your mouth, your teeth, your nose, etc) are vulnerable, but your genitals and surrounding areas will be saved? And what the hell are you supposed to do with them with no brain, arms or legs attached?

Apparently, they better come up with a full body covering and QUICK. Mormons will be wandering around looking like rejects from the Blue Man Group.

Whoever came up with that one needs to find a new line of work. I hear the Taliban is hiring.

First there was the whole “Purple Dinosaur Drama,” followed by the “Tinky Winky’s a Flaming Queen” Controversy, and shortly after that poor Sponge Bob got caught up in the melee and found his moral character—and choice of companions—questioned. Sponge Bob? Gay? Say it isn’t so. Frankly, I find it hard to swallow. I’ve known a few gay men in my life, and frankly, there is not a self-respecting homosexual man in the Universe who would be caught DEAD wearing square pants in public.

I was really hoping these characters would exercise some self-control and quit behaving in such morally reprehensible fashion, but it wasn’t to be.

When you have sick kids, you end up watching a lot of daytime television, especially children’s programming, brought to us specially by PBS. Since the gombu has been making the rounds at our house, last week I caught an episode of the Postcards from Buster television show, and lo and behold, I recognized the family Buster visited! Not only that, I went to high school with the dad, and could swear it was filmed right here in my little town.

Now why the hell would Buster want to visit Clark Hirschi and family? Not that Clark isn’t a nice enough guy, although I admit I haven’t seen him for twenty-odd years. But what is so interesting about the Hirschis? Yep, you guessed it. They’re Mormons. And Buster was paying the Mormons a visit.

I might have just laughed this off, even thought it kinda cool, had I not been aware of the recent controversy regarding Buster Bunny and his visit to an, ahem, lesbian couple in Vermont. Boy, did people get ticked off about that. So much so, that most stations didn’t run it. Hell, even a BYU professor has said that homosexuality is NOT a choice. Anyone want to place bets on how long he keeps his job? Why does the world care so much about someone else’s sexuality? What the hell is so frightening about it?

And I’m left here thinking, HELLO, it’s okay to visit Mormons who believe (just for starters):

1. We will practice polygamy in the afterlife. Joseph Smith really did not want to start polygamy, but a powerful angel with a sword threatened him and made him do it. (Brian David Mitchell might want to try this defense. It worked for Joe.)

2. That God lives on a planet next to a star called Kolob. Why? Because God does not like to waste space (I SWEAR on a Book of Mormon that a Sunday School teacher told me that.)

3. That magic underwear, or Jesus Jammies, can protect you from harm. I can’t TELL you how many stories I’ve heard of people being saved because they wore Jesus Jammies, but nobody EVER talks about the people who die wearing them. Why is that?

4. The Garden of Eden is in Missouri (Oh please!). Have you BEEN there? No offense to Missourians, but it seems more likely the Garden of Eden would be in the Bahamas, or Hawaii, or somewhere like that. Don’t get me started. Apparently, we are all going to hike there. Maybe that’s the reason for the Missouri choice. I spent a week each summer at Girls Camp just getting ready for the trek.

I could go on and on, but I won’t. Frankly, the only people who don’t find the Mormon beliefs weird are SOME of the Mormons. Thinking Mormons everywhere quibble daily with this stuff. That’s why people HIDE when they see the missionaries coming. I know people who have holed up in their house for days, peering out the window only occasionally, like in one of those old westerns, as the missionaries lay in wait, looking for any sign of life.

These missionaries come home from said missions with those same remarkable skills. I, myself, found myself hiding and hushing my husband as two “Some-pyramid-scheme-or-another” salesmen, both returned missionaries, stood on my doorstep and rang the bell repeatedly. “Don’t even breathe, or they’ll know we’re in here.”

So what is the big deal with Buster hanging out with the lesbians? I think the fear arises because people are afraid that gays and lesbians are operating under the rules of recruitment, sort of like the Navy and the Army, the Jehovah’s Witnesses and the Mormons. You hear the word “recruit” a lot in homophobic circles. I myself have never encountered one of these recruitment centers, but suspect it would be very nicely decorated.

Frankly, people, you are in a lot more danger from consorting with Mormons, who would like nothing more than to dunk you into their ranks, than you are from lesbians and gays, who rarely don blue suits and nametags, and walk from door to door carrying old Judy Garland tapes.

Happy Easter! The weather forecasters were wrong YET again, and we awoke to a blue sky and not totally frigid temps. Spring in Utah. What will happen next is anyone’s guess. Since we stayed home for the weekend (because the WEATHER FORECASTERS SAID IT WAS GOING TO SNOW! You KNOW who you are.)I’m just going to ramble on here about bits and pieces of things that are running through my mind. Aren’t you lucky?

In a conversation this morning, a friend told me that she’d read an NRA official said that teachers should be allowed to carry guns. She made this statement after the recent Minnesota school shooting.

Holy Hell. The answer to rampant violence is to give MORE crazy people GUNS?? Speaking as someone who actually works as an educator, and has young children in school, can I please suggest that we do NOT embrace this idea? As my friend said, “Instead of No Child Left Behind, we’ll have No Child Left Alive.”

Teachers have been known to snap when they’ve heard “But you didn’t tell us the test was TODAY,” for the millionth time.

Parent/Teacher conferences would take on a whole new light. They’d require armed guards and body armor! Strip searches! Metal detectors.

Lord have mercy. Teachers with guns. No thanks.

********

I just finished reading Martha Nibley Beck’s book, Leaving the Saints: How I Lost the Mormons and Found My Faith. Unless you live on a deserted island, you’ve heard about this controversial book by the daughter of one of Mormonism’s most beloved figures, Hugh Nibley.

Mostly, the Mormons are pretty damn angry at Martha for her allegations. There’s been a campaign, spearheaded by the siblings of Martha, to discredit her entirely. The family even set up a Web site, and is asking for donations. Not one brother or sister is siding with Martha.

So what’s the truth? Unfortunately, as in most of these cases, only those involved know. And one party–Hugh Nibley–passed away last month.

Nibley, while deeply respected within the Mormon community, was not well-known or respected outside of Utah. He was the Mormon apologist’s apologist. Years ago, I read his defense against the Fawn Brodie book, No Ma’am, That’s Not History.
He never really dubunked any part of Brodie’s book. He just attempted to put words in her mouth, and change the way the reader looked at her, by intimating that she was simply not smart enough, or qualified enough, to write a biography of Joseph Smith, Jr.

Brodie’s task is to fit the recorded words and acts of one Joseph Smith to her idea of a well-meaning but not too reliable oaf. To do this the words and acts in question must be changed around a bit: there must be a good deal of critical interpretation and explaining in the light of the answer she wants to get. All this is pardonable if it does not go too far. But how far does it go? That is the all-important question which can be answered only by consulting the book itself.

There is hypocrisy here in Nibley’s words, as HE puts words into Brodie’s mouth, and changes what SHE said, to fit HIS purpose. Never in her book did she call Joseph Smith, Jr., an oaf. Of course, this is what an apologist must do.

After reading Beck’s book, I felt profound sympathy for Hugh Nibley, much as Martha herself does. How does one defend the indefensible? The entire LDS Church is set up on a foundation that requires absolute belief in things that cannot be proven. Losing your “faith” is, in the eyes of the Saints, the worst thing that can happen. For those who actually go through it, however, it is very freeing. Martha’s book title is very apropos. She did not lose her faith. She lost the Mormons, instead.

Hugh Nibley did the best he could with what he had. And that was not much.

Martha alleges that this, in the end, is what led him to lose grasp of his sanity, and what led to his abuse of her.

I found Martha’s book lovely, well-written, and she treated MOST of the Saints with deep respect and love, even while knowing most of them most absolutely do NOT love her back.

I’ll post more on this book throughout the week.

Since I’ve made my stance on all matters relating to Mormonism fairly clear, my father has had to resort to oneliners, the only missionary work he is allowed to perform on me. It’s gotten rather interesting, actually. How much information and inference can you pack into one line, when you are only allowed to use a few words and facial expressions?

So out of the blue one day, my dad says to me “You heard Gladys Knight joined the Church?” He looks at me solemnly, and then nods, raising his eyebrows.

“WHAT? I’m sorry, WHAT?? Well, for hell’s sake, why didn’t someone tell me this sooner? The Church MUST be true, if Gladys is taking the Midnight Train to Salt Lake City.”

This particular oneliner comes from the “if it isn’t true, how come so-and-so believes it?” circular logic bag of explanations. These are usually offered to verify the truthfulness of the Church. “This man/woman/gerbil is SMART. He’s a doctor/lawyer/Amway salesman. He believes the Church is true, therefore it must be true.” The way I remember it, there were some fairly intelligent people in Hitler’s army, too, but you won’t see me goosestepping anytime soon.

Sarcasm aside, of course I’d heard about Gladys, and while everyone around me was either oohing and aahing or asking “How could she?” I was pretty much sure I understood it.

Hello, people! The world’s BIGGEST backup band?? The Mormon Tabernacle Choir makes the Pips look like Pipsqueaks!

I’m still waiting for my dad to drop this oneliner. “So, you heard Marilyn Manson joined the church?”

Well, it’s close to that time again. No, not tax season, but time for the LDS General Conference, which is held every April and October. This time of year used to hold a “good side/bad side” quality for me, when I was growing up. The plus was I didn’t have to get dressed up in Sunday best and go to Church. I could at least sleep until ten, and keep my jammies on. The minus was I had to sit for three hours, TWICE in one day, and listen to old men prattle on, while the audience politely laughed at their whitebread, generic, wholesome jokes. In their most RABID times (read always) my parents also watched the “Saturday” session. Luckily, if we could prove we were busy with something else, we were not forced to endure this. But Sunday was a requirement.

I could never stay awake while watching the General Authorities speak on television. If you aren’t Mormon, you wouldn’t understand that tone—deep, melodic, mesmerizing, sanctimonious–they use that automatically puts you to sleep. Even today, I can identify that tone with a blindfold on, late at night, after drinking a pint of rum, on the third Tuesday of the month….The tone might work if the message were good, but it’s the same-old same-old every time. Do the GAs go to monotony school to learn how to speak? It’s possible. I promise it isn’t just me. Go to any ward meeting, on any given Sunday, and you’ll find hundreds of snoozers, some who have even learned to sleep with their eyes open, although the glazed-over look and drool on the side of their mouths is a dead-giveaway. I am convinced the GAs USE this tone so that someone sitting next to you will PROD you awake, causing you great pain, and of course embarrassment, and convincing you just how much MORE of the Lord’s gospel you need.

But I digress.

General Conference has gotten rather interesting in the past few years for a couple of reasons.

1. The Mormon Church bought Main Street so they could keep Rabble Rousers away from Temple Square.
2. Said Rabble Rousers decided to push even harder, and found out the ACLU and most laws are on THEIR side.
3. Christian Street Preachers are the most un-Christ-like people you will EVER meet.

Last year, one of these so-called Christians spent his week standing in front of Temple Square waving a set of the “sacred” garments around. Now, I’m no fan of Jesus Jammies. I’ve even made fun of them myself. Let’s face it, they are ugly, weird, and the whole Temple endowment thing is freaky, but I have NEVER, and I repeat, NEVER stood outside Temple Square waving a pair. Nor have I handed out pamphlets outside the gates. I do regretfully admit to drinking champagne and orange juice one Christmas Eve and touring the grounds, while admiring the lights, but truthfully, drunk and stupid is about the only way you get me inside Mormon grounds.

I digress again. The “Christian” preacher who chose this tactic found himself getting punched squarely on the jaw by a TBM (true believing Mormon) who was beside himself with anger at the thought someone was defiling something so sacred. Guess what? I side squarely with the beside-himself TBM. I mean, come on! I don’t care much for Mormonism, and its tenets, but this guy is claiming to be a Christian! Christian stands for Christlike. When is the last time Christ ran some guy’s underwear up the flagpole and laughed about it?

Yep, you guessed it. The behavior of these street preachers is so incredibly immature they should be sent back to junior high for the rest of their lives! It’s the equivalent of giving noogies and wet willies, and wedgies to the poor unfortunate souls who are weaker than you. It’s bullying.

I am fuzzy on my Bible knowledge, but I don’t remember Christ getting what he wanted by being the biggest bully on the block. Rather, I remember Jesus Christ setting an example of behavior that others could follow. You really didn’t see him standing outside someone else’s place of worship, waving around their underwear for the world to see.

Now I don’t think that the LDS Church should have bought up Main Street, and I also don’t think they should be allowed to make all the laws in Utah, even though they do (surreptitiously). And I sure as hell don’t think they should be allowed to go door to door proselytizing, which everyone KNOWS they do, but I also don’t think they are bad people who deserve to be bullied.

Note to street preachers: You are NOT helping your cause. Signs that say things like GOD HATES FAGS make YOU look bad. Last I heard, according to the Bible, there was only ONE judge, and that judge was GOD HIMSELF. Nowhere in the Bible does it say, “I HATE FAGS.” Nowhere. You are speaking for God, and I suspect, at least according to YOUR beliefs, that is going to piss him off royally. I’d shut up, and shut up now, if I were you.

Of all people, YOU should know what happens when you piss God off. Think flood. BIIIIIIGGG FLLLOOOOOD.