I went back and forth with myself for a little while as I tried to decide if I was going to bother commenting on the one thing that might entertain my sad little mind for the next day or so. I've come to the conclusion that since God already knows what I'm thinking, what harm will it do to put some of those thoughts to paper (or screen, as it were).
So Jerry Falwell died.
I have a friend who is currently trying to decide if he feels bad about the fact that he's happy Jerry Falwell is going to hell. I won't go quite as far as my friend, since I do well enough on my own on a daily basis when it comes to reserving my own eternal picnic spot next to the lake of fire. I will say, however, that I would love to be a mouse in the corner watching THAT conversation with St. Peter.
So here's to the man who blamed the sins of America for September 11th. He's the one who told us the Antichrist was alive, well, and Jewish (of course). He said a cartoon character was gay and would turn all of America's children gay if they watched him. I don't know what else we expected from a purple fluffy toy named Tinky Winky. Here's to the man who actively supported Apartheid in South Africa and denounced the Civil Rights Movement, saying "Where God has drawn a line of distinction, we should not attempt to cross that line."
Jerry, we'll miss you. Thanks for the laughs, and don't forget your sunscreen.