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Archive for the 'Swank Bank' Category

Pastor Swank Burns for Quenching!

Posted by scott on August 26th, 2010

Before we get to the Pastor’s thoughts on U.S.-Persian relations, I wanted to take a brief moment to nag D.Sidhe about posting her essay on Piranha 3D.

Okay.  Done.


Iranian thug President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad said: “The bottom line is we do not need a bomb. The time for nuclear bombs has ended,” per AP.

Then is he going to wipe out Israel with a teaspoon?

The jawbone of an ass would be more traditional, although it’s not as handy if you suddenly need to eat soup.

Is he going to welcome back his adored Islamic messiah with fireflies?

I don’t know, but I have to wonder: how much do you really adore your Islamic messiah if you plan to greet him with nuclear weapons?  Have you thought about baking him a cake, or getting him a gift certificate to Chili’s?

Ahmadinejad is the typical Muslim zealot: liar, liar and more liar.

In Dante’s Inferno, “Alchemists, Counterfeiters and Falsifiers of Words” are condemned to the Eighth Circle of Hell, where they are forced to wear the Persian President’s Flaming Pants, which burns their flesh away, and are uncomfortably snug in the crotch.

He champions peaceful uses of his nuclear plants while daily stapling his own citizens to misery and hopelessness.

Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad in undated file photo.

Why are there Iranians in exile who constantly warn the free world of Ahmadinejad’s madness? They do so for they have suffered first-hand from his clones and himself.

Members of the Iranian Parliment Subcommittee on Pensions and Tax Policy.

Ahmadinejad is surrounded in his executive suites by his satanic cronies.  They are murderers, rapists and stealers, like unto their fiendish prophet Mohammed.

Talk about union featherbedding!  Why, back during the Bush Administration, we had one guy to handle all three of those jobs!  (In the interests of full disclosure we should point out that Dick Cheney seems to have outsourced the rape to private contractors, but we should also note that his cybernetic life support implants aren’t nearly as fancy or efficient as Darth Vader’s — so he can’t be hands-on about everything.  Still, his pulseless, electrically-driven, frequently reanimated body is pretty versatile; for instance, after John Kerry conceded the Presidential election in 2004, Cheney celebrated by drinking three Amstel Lights and farting the Imperial March.)

Therefore, when Ahmadinejad courts the UN audience with promises of laying down his bombs for picking up peace doves, he lies superbly.

I am, as you know, a huge fan of the pastor’s work, but the line “laying down his bombs for picking up peace doves” strikes me as particularly poetic, like a Pete Seegar song written by Latka Gravas.

Yet Ahmadinejad and his clique are far more frightening. They lie in order to gain time to construct the final bomb. They smile while delivering hope-filled speeches about peace, all the while craftily scheming the planet’s last hour.

I’m also a bit worried for him.  The pastor’s not a young man anymore, and he really needs to stop watching James Franciscus films and eating Mexican food just before bed.  Or at least limit himself to The Valley of Gwangi and just one Fresco Bean Supreme.

Ahmadinejad is so married to his messiah’s return that he has spent millions in erecting edifices in the messiah’s honor.

While Pastor Swank’s congregation, the New Hope Church of Wyndham, Maine, meets on a couch (although it can get a little crowded during Easter services, and sometimes the choir has to sit on the ottoman).

Muslims believe in the second coming. They hold to that tenet with all their longings. They say that the messiah left the planet at age 5, only someday to come back when the globe’s surface is on fire.

With the Islamic messiah’s return, Islam World Rule will be secured.

So they’re going to pick up the planet cheap at a fire sale.  Smart.

In contrast, this is the biblical Christians’ hope:  Jesus followers hold to a second coming of Christ.

The Bible states that Christ Himself forecast His own return to His property, planet Earth.

Unfortunately, much like William Rehnquist’s two homes, there’s a covenant in Earth’s deed prohibing the sale or transfer to “‘members of the Hebrew race.”  Sorry, Jesus.  Should’a read the fine print.

Christ stated that He would return when the world was caught up in wars and rumors of wars, famines, the increase of sin, family members increasingly taunting one another, persecution of Christians, pestilence, earthquakes, and the gospel preached globally.

If my little sister’s brattiness wasn’t enough to bring on the Apocalypse, I’m beginning to think the Book of Revelations may not be 100% accurate.

Christ stated in Matthew 24:29-31 that His rapturing (“gathering together unto Him”) of the believers from the four corners of the planet would coincide with His open appearance in the atmostphere above the planet.

“Messiah One, this is Houston Capcom…You are cleared for re-entry.”

Pastor Swank’s Gourmet Word Salad

Posted by scott on August 2nd, 2010

I was getting a little worried about World O’ Crap Spiritual Advisor J. Grant Swank, since he hasn’t been posting much lately on RenewAmerica, but it seems he was just looking for a change, and has now moved his base of operations to MichNews, and become a food critic. Today’s main course?

Portland Maine’s Munchiest Morning Bun

Memo to Salivary Glands:  Stand By for Action!

What a delight to wake up for the new day, climb into the wheels and make the journey inside Portland’s innards. Not only are there the wharfs with all their ambience—boats, fishermen, smell of the ocean and tourist shops galore—but there is my fav bakery.

Sadly, Portland’s innards are a bit too far for me to join the Pastor at his fav bakery.  But I do live in a very dense urban area, so I don’t even have to climb into wheels to reach a munchy morning bun; often I can just ride on the legs.

The morning bun is laden with syrup and walnuts spilling over its freshly baked self.

I’m a carnivore, but even I blanch at the thought of eating baked goods that have evolved and become self-aware.

If it is a gorgeous day, step outside to the waiting iron tables with matching light-weight chairs. Watch the birdies come to your toes, chipping away at any crumbs dropped from your festivity.

This may be the most adorable and light-hearted thing Pastor Swank has ever composed.  It’s like a greeting card written by Daphne Du Maurier after she was smacked in the head with an Indian club.

You might even spy the owner, Matt. He is an exceptionally cordial fellow. Over the years, we have become so-so friends.

And thus, an unusually tepid bromance was born.

Having moved to Maine in 1991, I have concluded that the morning bun is near the top of the list of the state’s highlight options.

Much tastier than a Yellow Sharpie®.

If you are ever in Portland, be sure to order the bun so as to test my suggestion. I don’t think you will be disappointed.

Pastor, I don’t think you’ve ever disappointed me.  But then, I’m not, say, your wife, and you haven’t, say, just handed me a sack of second-hand earrings that belonged to a crazy old woman…


I got a small bag full of freebie earrings. Obviously, the woman meandering around her yard wanted to get rid of them and I thought my wife would like to have them.

“I don’t wear earrings that belonged to other people for I don’t trust the earrings for health reasons,” my wife exclaimed as I walked smilingly through the Maine cottage door.

“Just soak them in alcohol,” daughter Heidi cried out as she was leaving with baby to visit a friend in Portland.

So there! I won.

“I’ve browbeat my wife until she’ll gladly risk hepatitis C just to make me shut up!  I am the KING!”

But then, in the middle of his end zone dance, the Pastor gets a sad:

Spending a Saturday morning going around yard sales alongside Sebago Lake is tops. It’s the best America can offer when it comes to home grown yard sale retail. And then each time I think that, I wonder when DC is going to levy a sales tax on yard sales. Could happen these days. True, sadly.

Hm…That would almost make a good name for a website.

But in the meantime, till DC catching on, I thoroughly get a kick out of yard sailing. And it’s not just in buying things for nothing or cheap. It’s visiting the strangers-become-quick-friends-of-sorts along the way.

Once we came upon a Baptist Church having a “Free Yard Sale.”  It was in September. We had a ball going through this item and that, walking off with a lot of pre-Christmas presents that were actually brand new, at least brand new looking. When it comes to the little grandchildren, those stuffed animals were a giant hit.

And each stuffed animal was like ten thousand presents in one, thanks to all the bedbugs.  But between Swank’s so-so friends, and his strangers-become-quick-friends-of-sorts, I’m reminded of Clarence’s flyleaf dedication at the end of It’s a Wonderful Life, “Remember, no man is a failure who has friends,” and suddenly realize why the Pastor spends so much time cadging free crap off card tables.

Now this morning I drove off into some angst unknown to me.

Oh oh — Swank has climbed inside his wheels and driven into unknown angst!  And you’ll never guess what angst it is.  Turns out, the Pastor is a bit of a coke whore

“You had better get home as soon as you can,” the head librarian exclaimed when catching my eye.

“Your wife has been calling. She’s frantic because you have the car seat in your van. It seems Heidi needs it to put Grant Michael Wray in that seat so that the two of them can visit a friend in the city!”

I said: “I’ll see you in divorce court. At 71, I’m not used to having a child’s car seat in my life. It’s like having cocaine.”

Here’s hoping Swank and Lindsay Lohan wind up sharing a room at Hazelton.

Needless to say, I split down the center of town for the cottage. Bottom line: no divorce court, just a scolding that has still left a few blisters.

And the we hope the pedestrians and cyclists who were knocked into the gutter by a coked-up preacher barreling through the center of town also escaped with minor injuries.

But I think before nightfall all will be well within the family. It usually is. Time does heal.

But back to the main point: yard sales are America’s prime retail. You can bank on it.

So the lesson of today’s sermon is, if you’re suffering from blisters administered by your wife’s tongue, pull into a stranger’s driveway and buy a broken egg timer and some used stuffed animals.  It’s better than lancing.

Epops: You’re mistaken: men of sense often learn from their enemies. Prudence is the best safeguard. This principle cannot be learned from a friend, but an enemy extorts it immediately. It is from their foes, not their friends, that cities learn the lesson of building high walls and ships of war.

— Aristophanes, Birds

Or, as Pastor Swank more eloquently put it:


America should learn from Jakarta’s protesters how to clog the streets with cries of imploding the Oval Office imposter.

The lesson here is plain: eat more fiber.

Marxist Muslim Barack Hussein Obama is beheading America by throwing our money into the downdrains.

A conservative Christian would use an axe or a knife to decapitate the country, because it’s more efficient. A liberal, meanwhile, thinks you can solve any problem by throwing money at it, including the problem of how to behead America; but you’d probably have to use coins — sharpened like shurikens, because I don’t think folding money is capable of delivering a neck-severing paper cut — and you’d probably have to throw them really, really hard. On the bright side, at least Obama is cutting our nation’s head off near the downdrains, because I doubt there’s enough paper towels in the world to deal with a blood stain that size, even if they did have thirst pockets.

He’s a liar. He breaks his promises. He plays dictator. His crook and liar cronies stand to right and left of his every move. His wife is team member with him.

I heard his wife was team Jacob, but if she’s team member that’s okay with me too. I like a woman who’s pro-boner and not afraid to admit it.

There is no doubt that Obama is using every means possible to wipe out this Republic. That is the prime purpose of any Muslim—eliminate the infidels. Beheading is the favorite modus operandi. But if one can behead without shedding blood, so much the cleaner.

And Pastor Swank’s violent eschatology takes a weird, sudden swing into Billy Mays territory.


“And if you can behead without blood, so much the cleaner!”

Obama is working night and day with cohorts Nancy Pelosi and Harry Reid to shred this nation from coast to coast.

The Democrats are bankrupting America, buying all this sick skateboarding gear!

This is most evident with the Obamangst “care”

“Obamangst?” I am second to none in my admiration of the Pastor’s ability to neologize, but like the speed of light, there is apparently a physical limit to Obama name puns, beyond which acceleration, and sense-making, is impossible. And that dull, moist-sounding smack was the Pastor hitting it face first.

bill ram-jammed down our throats.

As you know, Pastor Swank doesn’t always get the latest wingnut talking points (he still thinks “Teabaggers” is a badge of honor), but he must have recently figured out how to use email, since he’s jumped aboard the whole “Obama and Congress are ramming health care reform down our throats” meme. And yet, being Swank, he’s decided this argument would be more effective if it internally rhymed. And that’s why he’s awesome!

Reasonable newsfeeds don’t know how to word their coverage of this insanity. Fox Newscasters in particular are stymied when trying to figure out logical ways to communicate this crazy scene from the White House.

Every day they grope for new verbiage by which to state that the present administration is killing our democracy and no one seems to know how to stop it.


“Verbiage fails me.”

Well, in Jakarta, protesters fill the air with cries that Obama is not to arrive there because he is not Muslim enough. There you have it. In America, Muslim Obama is Muslim Number One. In Jakarta Obama is not Muslim enough.

While in a remote cottage occupied by a family of bears, Obama is just Muslim enough.

Now this brings us to the spiritual analysis. God is at work through this whole mess. Why? Because of the righteous remnant at the time of America’s start and at the present moment. Those prayers match up before heaven’s throne.

It’s the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost…And they’re all here to play The Family Feud!”

Satan is also at work, evidently.

Not only that, but he just got a big bonus from Goldman Sachs.

Satan wants to destroy America because it is the only country begun with a Christian stand. America is the Christian-heritage nation of the planet.

Just add water, and the Christian Stand™ will reduce the chance of fire and keep your Christian fresh and healthy-looking for up to three weeks! (For best results, lop off the bottom 2 to 3 inches of your Christian before inserting in Stand.)

We must not try to play God. We must let God guide us socially, spiritually and politically—which He will do.

I use the Google God app for iPhone.

Watch how God moves in the future to rescue America from the Marxist Muslim schemes to rid the world of the Christian-heritage United States of America.

And my dad will be able to beat up your dad at some indeterminate point in the space-time continuum.

Jakarta is an example of how to protest Obama at the moment. Other protestations will show up on life’s screen.

I think the Pastor’s telling us he just discovered YouTube.

In each of these, God will work His move.

And God works His move in mysterious way.

Anyway…Keep Watching the Life Screens!

Pastor Swank to Republicans: Open Wide…!

Posted by scott on February 18th, 2010

We haven’t checked in with Pastor Swank for awhile, but it appears he’s still busy expanding the Urban Dictionary.

Reps: learn from tea baggers

It’s official: we now have a pastoral dispensation for scrotum-dipping.

The Tea Party Nation represents healthy-raw, committed patriotism. What a breath of fresh air.

It is, in fact, a naked breath of unpasteurized air-raw!

So the Reps had better keep their mitts off the Nation.

However, the Nation is still free to molest Mitt, although it’s kind of labor-intensive because you have to work a hand into his magic underwear before you can cop a decent feel.

Let the Nation form itself according to its own basic moorings. Trust the formation.

Says Knute Swank, All American.

America is hungry for true-blue citizens who don’t give a rip about political correctness, personal opportunism or blowing steamy air.

I always thought “ripping one” and “blowing steamy air” were the same thing, but I guess it’s all very different on Pandora.


Tea Party enthusiasts are the down the block Americans who have had it with Marxist Muslim Barack Hussein Obama and like clones hatched to his right and left. They cannot stomach Obama’s shadow government. They are ready to ax the pro-Islamic czars.

Sounds like a cross between Invasion of the Body Snatchers and Friday the 13th. Let’s call it Texas Chainsaw Tea Party.

Would not thinking, righteously angry, flag-waving human beings want to turn upside down the damnable bunk load in DC?

Oh, so it’s bukkake porn?

And so they are doing it. Then Reps had better let them carry on!

In the delightful British romp, Carry On Teabagging!

Therefore, today’s reality teaching that reveals Reps splicing and dicing for their own posterior protection, thus betraying common sense grassroots, means Tea baggers had better keep trucking down the right trail.

Okay, sorry, it appears the pastor’s opus is actually a slasher film with a refreshing splash of anal sex involving Mr. Natural and Mark Trail.

And they are on the right trail. They know it. Their heads think it. Their hearts beat it. Their souls confirm it.

Their steely man-lances sodomize it.

That’s saying a lot more for the so-called common men and women than many Reps straddling fences looking out for themselves. Enough straddling in the name of “Republican.”

The pastor recommends you start straddling in the name of “Sybian.”

Isn’t it thrilling to see these Tea Bag zealots lifting loftily the virtues America was known for decades ago? These are the ethics that have been swept away by Obama leftists beheading the country. These are the absolutes debunked even by some chancey Reps.

I assume from this passage that God caught Pastor Swank in Babylon, attempting to build a tower to heaven.

What Reps need to do is go to the Tea Bag committed, ask them how they do it, what they have faith in, and then side up to their genuine postulates.

Wow — a committed Tea Bagging and postulate-stimulation? We’re gonna have to hose this place down.

Everybody is saying the Reps don’t have a common base, a moral foundation, a solid ethical contract. There’s wishy-washy this and wishy-washy that.

So if that is true, Reps need to learn virtuous catechism from the Tea Bag Nation. The baggers know what that’s all about and are living it.

And who are we to criticize their lifestyle choices? Lift loftily your bunkload, Baggers, as you blow the steamy air with your healthy-raw Nation mitts!


Posted by scott on November 27th, 2009

Even though I don’t cook, and have little interest in, or aptitude for hospitality, whenever Thanksgiving rolls around I can’t help but think of Martha Stewart.  This is largely due to my friend P.J., who is a high priestess in the Church of Martha, a cult which exists to create and serve tasty cocktails and hors d’oeuvres around the holidays, and which, were they to merge with the Catholic Church, would undoubtedly make for a very swinging communion.

Speaking of the clergy, Pastor Swank also has Martha Stewart on this mind.  Martha Stewart and…MURDER!  Or at any rate, Mrs. Swank apparently wants to put the doyenne of upper middle class home economics on ice; but Martha has survived the exercise yard and the lesbian wrestling matches in the ladies correctional institution shower room, so sticking a shiv in her may not be quite so easy as La Swank believes.


She was not ready to hoist our turkey knife-upward either. She was livid. She was after Martha Stewart. For certain.

And this wife of mine is a Martha Stewart loyal royal. She loves her show. Martha says it; it’s true. My wife even tried the recipe mimic.

As seen in the 1997 film Recipe Mimic, in which Martha Stewart (Mira Sorvino), creates a powerful insecticide out of ordinary items you find around the house, in order to keep roaches out of the kitchen during holiday meal preparation.  All goes well, until three years later, when authorities discover the substance has triggered the evolution of a species of super-insect that can mimic the appearance and culinary repertoire of Rachel Ray.

But no more. When Priscilla learned that Stewart went after Sarah Palin, finis!  Sarah Palin is not God. But Palin is indeed a choice one for Priscilla.

Great, we could use a hot girl-on-girl scene right about now.  I see it as a combination of The Bishop’s Wife and Bound, with Sarah Palin as an angel sent to help Pastor Swank finally build a church that’s not in his living room, except she falls for Priscilla, and the two plot to steal the construction funds and frame Swank, leading to a violent and deadly climax in the nave (which is awkward, because the chancel doubles as the Swank’s entertainment center, forcing the two women to squeegee the blood off the TV screen before they can watch The L Word).

Gov. Sarah Palin (L) and Mrs. Priscilla Swank (R) in Dial M for Martha.

So Stewart was asked what she thought of Palin. I saw it with my own eyes. And as far as I could tell, Stewart’s eyes drooped in a condescending fall. The lids were all but on the floor.

The only thing worse than being patronized by falling eyeballs is having to pick up after haughty female media magnates when they leave their lids all over the red carpet.

Stewart let it be known in that soft, cutting voice of the elite that Palin was “boring.” Palin is so boring that Stewart would not even care to walk across the street to hear one syllable from the former Alaskan Governor.  Further, Palin is not only stiff board, she’s “dangerous” for any country. Just plain dangerous. She is not good stuff, in other words.

Well, I don’t know how “dangerous” Palin is, but she may indeed be “not good stuff” (although I believe she gave the “stiff board” to Rich Lowry.)

When I told her what media was telecasting, Priscilla was a bit suspicious that I had fallen into hyperbole.

You?  Noooo…

But when Priscilla heard with her own ears those nasty terms sliding off the kitchen mistress’ tongue, Priscilla just about slid all the knives from her own cabinet onto the fighting field. Priscilla looked to me as if she were after blood.

Why do I think this probably wasn’t the first time Mrs. Swank pulled a knife and looked at the Pastor with murder in her eyes?

After all, there are some moral bases that cannot be crossed without battle begun. I guessed in an instant that the garrisons were being called up and children should run for cover.

Oh great, now she’s Peter Lorre from M (“Hey look, Hon, there’s a balloon trapped in the telephone wires.  I think Mrs. Swank has killed again.”)

Stewart, with all her cute phrases and courteous glances toward one show guest or another was now no friend of Wifey. Stewart’s lush pad and come-back from prison cell was no bait for Priscilla’s liking.

And I can’t say I blame her. I go right along with her analysis of the Cooking Queen.

I predict Swank will regret agreeing with Wifey, because now he’s going to have to help her move the body.

Stewart has lost with us common folk who have brains working for what is decent and logical.

Said…Pastor Swank.

Stewart has tightened all the more with the crusty liberals, dittoing their mantras and bedding down with their tripe.

According to the Urban Dictionary, “bedding down with tripe” is also known as the “Full Menudo” or the “Philadelphia Pepper Pot,” while “dittoing the mantra” is basically a “rusty trombone,” made slightly more hygienic by the “player” wearing a pair of wax lips.

Any questions, just ask Priscilla. She’s ready with the verbiage—out and about and up and down and left to right, no end in sight.

Word to your mother.

Further, as I see her marching up the avenue, I note quite a line of like-minded pot-banging females screaming at the pines.

Suckiest. Vision Quest.  Ever.

Speaking in Forked Tongues

Posted by scott on November 19th, 2009

PastorSwank1.jpg Good day, brothers and sisters.  Before we begin, the elders have asked me to announce that during the following sermon, Wo’C spiritual guide J. Grant Swank is expected to reach a charismatic climax of such unusual force, distance, throw-weight, and viscosity, that you might want to leave your hat on.

Sarah Palin will be quizzed about political this and that. But when she runs for Oval Office, if she does, and it surely does appear as if it’s in her adrenaline swing, her being Christian will be shredded.

Listen boys, if you’re going to use the adrenaline swing during your sex orgies and rainbow parties, remember to apply adequate lubrication and ease into things, so you don’t wind up shredding her “Christian,” as the kids call it nowadays.  Didn’t the Coach teach you anything in Mental Hygiene class?

She is not only Christian in the biblical definition, but also “evangelical” when it comes to tags.

So if you’re going to “know” her “Christian” in the “biblical sense,” that’s fine, but if, during a peak of passion, she begs you for an “evangelical,” remember to be safe and use a condom and a shoehorn.  (NB:  Some inexperienced young people confuse the “evangelical” with the “throttled pentecostal” — a form of auto-erotic asphyxiation that requires two wet suits and a dildo — or the “Quaker snaker,” which is basically anal sex, except one or both parties are wearing a periwig.)

And not only “evangelical,” but charismatic/pentecostal.

That issue alone will swab the deck.

(“Swabbing the deck” is also known as a “Cincinnati Bowtie” or a “Chinstrap Penguin.”)

The atheists, agnostics and generic secularists will warp and woof. They will holler and screech. They will write and scrawl. They will pull up the sewer tops from every evangelical and pentecostal persona in the past century.

Hey, slow down there, Pastor.  I can’t keep running to the Urban Dictionary every time you discover a new fetish.

Further, they will take especially the pentecostal beliefs and strew them from coast to coast, then every continent. They will misplace them, misstate them, malign them and nail them to hell’s front door.

Then ring the bell and run!

The bloody war that awaits evangelicals and charismatics in particular is not yet envisioned by the general biblical believers. But it will be forthcoming if she goes further than marketing her book.

Examples of the sort of excessive marketing on the part of former Governor Palin which might plunge us into a bloody war include:

  1. Signing copies of “Going Rogue” at a Waldenbooks, while firing on Fort Sumter
  2. Appearing on Oprah to promote her memoir, then shooting Arch-Duke Franz Ferdinand from a helicopter.
  3. Posing in pantyhose and gym shorts for the cover of Runner’s World, then massacring two thousand Huguenots.

Her local church will be swarmed with reporters. Her pastor will have to hide from media.

And from definite and indefinite articles.

Every churchgoer there in her hometown will likewise be buttonholed.

Also known as a “Davenport Corncobbing,” or a “Minnesota Widestance.”

Some will speak clearly regarding doctrine. Others won’t have a clue and so will stir up the theological pot to dirt.

Well, not everyone can speak with the clarity and eloquence of a Sarah Palin.  Or a J. Grant Swank, for that matter.

Then First Dude will be quizzed till he’ll flee on dogsled.

If only he not flee on dogsled, First Dude could answer quiz.  Quiz easy!  “Friend?  Good!  Fire?  Bad!

Palin children will be asked if they agree or disagree with family faith, especially the matriarch’s claim.

A Matriarch’s Claim is basically a Dirty Sanchez using Jean Naté and potpourri.

The Bible verses relating to miracles, the Second Coming and speaking in tongues will make front page fodder, mostly screwed up to the nth.

I tried screwing up to the nth once.  It made me very chafed.

Imagine what Katie Couric will do with the Word.

It actually works better for me if I just think about baseball.

Those truly interested in the topic will be twittering and emailing and posting till their fingers fall off.

Well, it’s better than going blind.

In the meantime, God will oversee the mayhem and wonder what happened when Sarah Palin decided to run run run.

She should flee on dogsled!

The circus has not even started yet. Wait till they pitch the Big Tent.

Oh, I think you’re pitching a pretty big tent right now, Pastor.

Wizard of Words Wafting

Posted by scott on December 13th, 2008

As s.z. mentioned below, domestic sources of Pastor Swank are drying up at an alarming pace.  Looking back, it’s now clear that sometime last summer we reached the point of Peak Swank, and now face a future of ever-diminishing supplies of “womb humans,” “homo nups,” “mask muslims” and their more action-oriented confederates, “muslim murderers global.”  So while the search for America’s Next Top Swank continues, let’s make the most of what little time we have left together, and join the good Pastor as he pauses to reflect upon the meaning of the season:

Winter fellowship surprises

Esther opened her home for fellowship — Christian sharing.  Mid-winter — post-Christmas drab. But not for Carl Miller as he poked his hot dog on metal stick into the living room fireplace.

I really, really hope that’s not a metaphor.

Then came the marshmallows — toasted and ready for the taking.

“Warm, pillowy, and golden brown, they yielded, despite their protestations, to a passionate ravishment by teeth and tongue…”

“Roast a marshmallow for me,” I asked the ten-year-old.

Oh dear.

So he brought me a plateful. It’s been some time since I wafted down a plateful of marshmallows fresh from the coals.

“And it’s been quite awhile since I inappropriately conjugated a verb.  Oh, must be nigh on to half a paragraph by now…”

Jesus told His disciples to separate themselves from the day’s activity to rest awhile. He knew the value of downtime, just plain “doing a huge hunk of nothing,” as my Dad used to put it. Then it was that Jesus retreated with His friends to the mountains outside the city. They’d chat. No doubt there was laughter heard echoing across the Kidron Valley toward Jerusalem’s gates.

Jesus was known to have unusually ticklish armpits.

Christian sharing is needed in this spiritually fallen world. So it was that Butch of New Gloucester lifted high his hot dog in roll as if the trophy of the evening.

Well, what can you add to that?

Dressed in condiments, it was not long until the dog disappeared — then time for at least another. Sure thing.

Apparently the roll represents Alaska governor Sarah Palin.

Esther’s Standish home is such an open, welcome place. Often she swings wide the door for others to enter…

Other times, she makes them squeeze through the basement window.

…discovering there gospel music providing background calm, a table surprising guests with freshly baked muffins and that fireplace roaring its innards.

True, Esther’s furniture and fixtures are imbued with unholy life, what with the hearth screaming at visitors and treating them to horrific visions of roasting intestines, but the dinette set does whip up a tasty corn muffin, so I think really it all evens out.

Our lives are so hurried. Jesus’ days were filled with crowds beckoning. Our hours are appointment-laden. Jesus’ calendar knew little reprieve.

Even when Lord Jesus got an Blackberry he frequently missed meetings, and according to Luke 11:28, he was over 20 minutes late for his crucifixion.

Yet it is our Lord Jesus who invites us to “be still and know that I am God.” It is Jesus who invites us to “cast all your cares” upon Him. It is Jesus who reminds that He stands at the door knocking, waiting for us to open the door, inviting Him in to sup with Him.

Although it would be nice if Jesus would call first, since the place is a mess, the kids all have colds, and the only thing we have in the house are hotdogs and cream soda, and maybe a couple of Lean Cuisines in the freezer.  If he has to stay I suppose I could ask the dining table to bake up one of those Boboli pizzas…

When with Christian friends for such an evening as spent in Esther’s gracious home, we realize that the invisible Jesus presence is there with us. That of course makes that conclave different than any other.  Jesus in the midst. Jesus watching over. Jesus caring and loving His own children of grace.

But Jesus mysteriously disappearing the moment the party’s over and it’s time to do all these dishes.

So it was that as I looked over the room, taking in particularly Crystal Miller, 38, conversing animatedly with Ray Alley, 80, I was refreshed with the scene. They surely had enough to talk about. They were caught up in one another’s life situations — comparing notes, sharing concerns, genuinely interested. No generation gap when believers’ hearts reach out to build another bridge.

I told the Congress, Thanks, but No Thanks on that bridge to Crystal Miller, 38.

Thank you, Jesus, for winter surprises come upon with friends.

And thank you Pastor Swank.  For making us laugh about English.  Again.

Swank Version 2.0

Posted by s.z. on December 9th, 2008

True Pastor Swank connoisseurs have noted signs that the former one-man wingnuttery factory just isn’t what he used to be.  There is a massive decline in output (a man who used to put out up to five column a day on such diverse topics as “Gay Marriage:Satan’s Plan to Drag Cute Boys to Everlasting Flames,” ”5 Reasons why President Bush is the new Jesus”, and “They’ll All Go To Hell Because They’re Not Evangelicals, But Why the Catholics Will go to a Better Section Than the Episcopalians”  is now reduced to cutting and pasting a couple of GOP press releases each week).  But more importantly, the fire is gone.  And so are the language skills.  The man who gave us such treasured phrases as “gay nups” and “womb humans” now makes about as much sense as the instructions that came with your Chinese-made, Bulgarian-packaged electronic belt organizer — which, while sometimes amusing, is really sad when the writer is supposedly a native English speaker who attended an unnamed but accredited college.

So, the search is on for the NEW Swank.  I humbly nominate local talent Gary R. Olsen.  I don’t know anything about him, but I think this letter to the editor of the local newspaper demonstrates that he has the attitude, the moxie, and the general old coot vibe needed to fill this position.  But see what YOU think . .  

Gays kissing on Jumbotron?

To the editor:

While sitting through a rather enjoyable Aggie Basketball game on Saturday night against Cal Poly etc., I glanced up at the center Jumbotron during a timeout, and noticed the “Kiss the girl” graphic on the circular screen where the camera pans on to what they presume to be a couple, after which the camera then stays on them until they kiss each other, and then everybody cheers because it makes us all feel so gosh-darn warm inside.

So I got to thinking (uh oh, right?), how far off are we of going to the games here and seeing the camera pan onto a gay couple? What should we do? If we don’t cheer when they kiss, we’ll be labeled as intolerant bigots, and if we cheer, we sell out our own beliefs. (Keep in mind by “we” I refer to those of us who haven’t been consumed by the ireful gay species marring agenda.)

See, it’s  Mr. Olsen’s willingness to tackle the moral issues that nobody else has (mostly because nobody else has ever wasted their time thinking about them) that makes him a contender for the position of Swank Redux.  Plus, you have to give him credit for the snappy hate phrase “ireful gay species marring agenda,” since it combines words not normally used together in a usage that makes no sense whatsoever.

But back to Gary, the son that Pastor Swank never knew he had.

I should not have to feel like I am some kind of intolerant bigot for not accepting your repugnant and malodorous abomination of a lifestyle.

Aw, isn’t it cute the way that he calls a sexual orientation stinky while making you the bad guy if you think that he’s some sort of bigot?

 I am learning to shy away from words like “queer” and “fanny bandits” to describe you (those statements truly were a lapsus linguae).

What a prince of a guy!

 I am learning to tolerate you, and I would appreciate it if you recognized that what you are doing is not natural. Be grateful that you are allowed to participate in your unspeakable and despicably foolhardy activities, januis clausis (where the aforementioned actions should stay).

Yeah, gays, just be glad that you are allowed to commit your abominations in Mr. Olsen’s world without him putting the hurt on you (because he knows Latin and he’s not afraid to use it)!

But let’s skip forward a bit to where Mr. Olsen invents another catch phrase that is sure to catch on among today’s trendy homosexuals.

For those of you who were against Prop. 8, what do you think of the term: sodomitical copulation? Sit and reflect on that for a moment … Still think your viewpoint’s kosher? (Without even explaining what that means, the term even sounds gross all on its own.)

So, what do you think, people?  Can you still be against a proposition that is designed to defeat something that can be described by a term that sounds ICKY???

To rant forth in another direction for a bit, can you believe that the gay rights movement of today is comparing themselves to the civil rights movement of the ’60’s? Well, isn’t that just ducky! I’m presently sitting here dumbfounded amidst a funky vibe of disbelief over that. Sit and reflect on how asinine that comparison is with me for a moment as well …

I sense a great deal of megalomania in the gay population, as there is no comparison nor any essence of resemblance between the two movements in any way, shape or form.

Gary R. Olsen

Let us tiptoe away and not disturb Mr. Olsen’s dumbfounded, funky, vibe of disbelief.  But let me know if you think we should put Mr. Olsen in our “Wingnuts to Watch” folder (“Small Time, Small Potatoes” section), or if you think he’s a one-hit wonder, inspired by Jumbotron and too much Boone’s Farm wine at a basketball game. 

And if you have any nominees of your own for the ReSwank role, let us know. 

A Treasury of Swank

Posted by scott on November 13th, 2008

I know I should really limit my Swanking, or at least fight the urge whenever it appears.  But you may have noticed that a lot of the pastor’s old haunts are making a bid for respectability these days, hoping to rise above the fevered depths of the cyber-swamps and attract advertising dollars and mainstream respect with the kind of professional integrity, magisterial tones, and thoughtful analysis found at Townhall, or WorldNetDaily.  And the passionate penseés of the pastor, alas, have no place in this Brave New World of intelligible grammar.  So let’s imbibe his insights while we may, before the pastor forsakes all proselytizing on the internet and retires to his church, where his stoop-shouldered figure will become a familiar sight as it paces the area which was known to early Christians as the “narthex,” but is better known to Swank’s parishioners (i.e., his wife) as “the mud room.”

The unfairness of the ‘Fairness Doctrine’

The so-called Fairness Doctrine is not at all fair.

Its bottom line is to mug conservative broadcasters. The Doctrine says that for every conservative caster there has to be a liberal caster.

World of Warcraft made the same mistake when they tried to balance the Mage and Warlock classes.

Liberals are not popular in their broadcasting as has been proven in the past.

…by the liberal media.

Conservative voices are the rage.

Well, let’s not generalize here.  Some of them are the pout.  Others are the whine.  Many are the shrill.

Conservatives’ opinions will be blown to the wind as the Republic as we know it now would be completely turned inside out. Exit Sean Hannity and Rush Limbaugh, for instance.

Well I hope they exit before that Republic-blowing wind shows up, because the last thing I want to see is Rush Limbaugh turned inside out.  It’d be like that scene in Jaws where Richard Dreyfuss slices open a shark’s belly and pulls out fish heads, three albacore swallowed whole, a crushed tin can and a license plate.

Anyway, that’s pretty much it, which worries me a bit.  The pastor’s recent columns have all been uncharacteristically brief, and even those were padded out with cut-and-pasted news items.  His piece on Sarah Palin, for instance, is downright terse.

Senator Sarah Palin?

It could be.

If Republican Senator Ted Stevens can win over his opponent Anchorage Mayor Mark Begich, Stevens lands back in Congress where he has sat for 40 years.

Stevens was convicted on seven felony counts of hiding gifts. He says he’s still going to bed down in DC.

However, if he gets to his usual haunts in the nation’s big time, the Senate may expel him. That leaves his seat empty.

Fill in the blanks. Sarah Palin runs for the Senate and gets elected.

Yeah, yeah, I suppose she could.  But I miss the Swankian dithyrambs, damn it.  The fractured syntax, the fanciful slurs, the sense that you were reading Arthur Bremer’s diaries ( “A Thundering of hooves and out of the western sky came the colored man”), except with less coherence and more paranoia.  I wonder if the trauma of being dropped by a number of his outlets has caused Swank to grit his teeth and, by sheer force of will, tone it down a notch.  Or if perhaps RenewAmerica actually assigned him an editor, and all she could salvage were half a dozen paragraphs of a single sentence each.  Talk about the muzzling effect of the Fairness Doctrine!

Rupert Murdoch:  Obama will ruin America’s economy

NEWS Corporation chairman Rupert Murdoch says B. Hussein Obama’s economic solution is “crazy.” His tax policies are not at all logical. [...]

Murdoch stated that B. Hussein’s promise to give tax rebates to 95 percent of Americans was “rubbish.”

That’s strong language.

Well, coming from the pastor of the New Hope Church and Bonus Room, I suppose so.  Coming from a man who publishes a newspaper with topless women on page 3, it shows remarkable restraint.

But it’s time that reasonable voters get the truth-in-the-face or our Republic will soon be destroyed by the arch deceiver, B. Hussein.

Just to clarify: are we supposed to pronounce the “arch” in “arch deceiver” as “arc” like in “archangel,” or as “arch,” like in “Archie” or “the Golden Arches?”

B. Hussein is off the charts on most of his agendas because of the bottom line — he’s not experienced in anything but style and glitz. He’s all showmanship and connections with terrorist ties and the Islamic underground.

He’s like Wayne Newton singing “Daddy Don’t You Walk So Fast,” then blowing himself up with a large explosive eagle-shaped belt buckle

Making it worse is exactly what inexperienced B. Hussein and cadre will do to the Republic. They simply don’t have the know-how. They are jesters. They are shadow boxers. They are superficial to the limit.

They are a joker.  They are a smoker.  They are a midnight toker.  They get their loving on the run.  Wooo Woooo.

The are devilment in the flesh. Not good for the USA.

And yet devilment flesh is graded USDA Select.

Our downfall has already begun.

NOW You Come Crawling Back To The Swank!

Posted by scott on October 31st, 2008

swankhead.jpg I said all along B. Hussein = Muslim

Recently, fans of Pastor Swank have noticed a reduction in his once prodigious output of punditry.  Some suspected that the pastor had vanished from his usual online haunts because he was now spending most of his time ministering to the large, if hallucinated flock who each Sunday fill his imaginary church.  Others feared he had wandered naked into the desert and choked on a locust, while still others blamed the pastor’s diminished harvest on a successful, if long overdue, adjustment in his medications.

Unfortunately, the truth is far more sinister.  For just as Sarah Palin’s enemies are trying to strip the governor of her First Amendment right to tell lies by pointing out when she’s lying, so-called “conservative” websites have been attempting to gag Pastor Swank.  But the truth will out!  If not through the mouth, then through some other orifice, but the important thing is, he was right, you were wrong, and now the humble clergyman invites you to Suck It.

When I first warned months ago that B. Hussein Obama is a mask Muslim, sites refused to post my columns, except for one particularly bold and courageous one.

That would be World O’Crap, which has a long and courageous history of passing on anything that leaps from the pastor’s febrile cranium.

I have continued to repeat the litany with multitudinous evidences. Various conservative sites have still refused to post those columns.

Not only have the housing market and most major financial institutions collapsed, but apparently the Crazy bubble has finally popped too.  Remember when you could fire up your browser and find four, five, six new columns a day by Pastor Swank?  We thought those days would never end…

Now it is quite the posh topic throughout the Internet to state that B. Hussein and wife are into the Muslim camp. Their profession of being “Christian” is a hoax. They are not that for they refute every Christ ethic in Scripture.

I know how Swank feels.  It’s like when you discover a cool new band playing some local toilet, and you talk ‘em up to your friends, and go to all their shows, and buy the t-shirts and the CD with the ugly hand-drawn cover art, and then they hit it big with the one really pop song on the album — the one you really couldn’t stand — and you turn around and suddenly they’re on Letterman, and their hit song appears on a movie soundtrack, and some soft drink company uses it in a commercial, and now when you tell people how much you dug that rocking little band with the grit and soul and most of all, integrity, they look at you like you just pledged your love to Hannah Montana.  Listen, Newbie Come Latelys, Swank was into calling the Obamas muslims when muslim-calling wasn’t cool.  That was some edgy shit in those days!

They, for instance, enthusiastically support killing womb infants as well as sodomy recognized as “marriage,” though they double-talk on the latter.

Yeah, now people give a crap, with days to go before the election.  But where were all these bandwagon-jumpers when Swank first warned about the Obamas’ plans to misuse their marriage bed by practicing a form of sodomy so powerful it would kill womb infants?!

Too many conservative sites, deriding political correctness, followed it to the letter.

Now we have the Muslim youngun coming to the fore as the potential President of the most powerful nation on Earth. That is horrendous considering that we are still so near 9 / 11. How quickly fickle voters forget.

While we’re on the subject, I notice Obama is now “the youngun” instead of “The Boy,” so I guess not everyone is immune to political correctness, eh Pastor?  Hmmm?

For the mob hysteriacs, they don’t read. They don’t heed. They could sweep this Republic enemy into office. If so, good-bye America, hello Arabs.

Wait…Pastor Swank is defecting to the Saudis?

Now with that last sentence in particular, you will note that various conservative sites refuse this column. In fact, you will not note that for this column will not come to your attention due to that very cowardly fact.

In fact, you’re not even reading this!  And he’s not really a pastor! (since, as Doghouse Riley pointed out once, there doesn’t actually appear to be a “New Hope Church” in Windham, Maine, although the town does boast 65 registered sex offenders.  Not that I’m suggesting a parallel.  It’s just one of those statistics that kind of leap out from a page that’s otherwise concerned with civic boosterism.)  Anyway, ask your doctor if Clozapine is right for you.

Nevertheless, I am a Christian. I believe the Bible to be divine revelation; therefore, I take its curses and blessings passages most seriously.

The Bible states emphatically that God does not forsake his righteous remnant. Instead, He defends them. That means that if the ungodly get into office in the White House and Congress, God will defend His grace children while at the same time bring His wrath upon the disobedient.

Great.  Not only do Catholic kids have to worry about God watching them while they masturbate, now they’ve got to try to negotiate a butterfly ballot while He’s peering over their shoulder in the voting booth!

President George W. Bush did two terrible acts in the last several years. First, he placed the Koran in the White House library with great aplomb.  [...] That Koran should have never been placed in the White House. A curse has settled upon that domain.

Not only is this grim news for America, it’s also the plot of National Treasure 3.

Christians who are truly genuine Bible disciples have been betrayed by Bush who claimed to be “one of us.” In that betrayal he gave ground to paving the way for the mask Muslim B.. Hussein and entourage to enter the White House powers.

Not only that, but Bush also told B. Hussein that if you rocket jump through the trap door in the ceiling of the Vermeil Room, there’s a ledge on left side with Power Ups and extra Armor.