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Next entry: Lou Dobbs photo/story scrubbed from Obama Waffles site Previous entry: Saturday night straddling dork and cool

Maybe Anyone Can Write A Book

So, how do two wild and crazy guys end up selling racist waffle mix to fundamentalist Christians while not being under the influence of at least mild opiates? 

Jack and Jill Politics has a video of the two men explaining their thought process, which pretty much comes down to them making up an implausibly stupid cover story to draw attention away from their massive drug use. 

Looking into the gentlemen a bit more, I ended up fixating on Bob DeMoss, the swea…the one with the awful…the one on the left.  Bob, you see, isn’t just a “freelance writer”.  He’s written a series of Christian teen literature with Tim LaHaye.  Yes, Left Behind Tim LaHaye.  Meaning, of course, that this wasn’t just some guy shilling his flash-in-a-pan election year product, but he’s a full-on foot soldier who has the full faith and credit of the fundamentalist movement.  Let’s look at what DeMoss would have been selling had he not stumbled on the idea of Nigger Jim’s Magic Mix. 
First up, we’ve got The Last Dance, which introduces us to our recurring protagonist, Jodi Adams:

Spring is about to give way to summer and love is in the air. It’s the weekend after Memorial Day and the students of Huntingdon Valley High School are anxiously awaiting their prom. Heather Barnes has found the guy of her dreams, John Knox, a senior at a nearby high school whom she met in a Christian chat room. Although Heather has never actually “met” John in person, she plans to go to the prom with him against the advice of her best friend, Jodi Adams. Soon, Heather will discover John’s true identity. Can Jodi, Bruce, and Kat rescue Heather before it’s too late or will the prom be her last dance?

Having no intention of ever reading this piece of shit, I’m going to make the assumption that John Knox works like every other non-Christian male in Christian literature does.  He’s charmingly smooth - too smooth - until he makes a complete 180 and starts grinding against Heather’s cap-sleeved gown with his pre-condomed penis and demanding she drink wine coolers with him at Planned Parenthood’s afterprom. 

I’m not sure if there’s some epidemic of Christian-chat-room-prom-dating-rapist-alcoholics out there - and if there is, I will gladly put up a link to the charity or charities who deal with preventing and punishing these people - but the object lesson here seems to be that trusting Christians will get you in severe trouble unless you have a backup Christian to once again save your ass.

Case in point? The Rave:

It was the first night of the Memorial Day weekend and Kat Koffman figured she’d dance the night away at a massive, East Coast rave. She’d go to the beach in the morning with friends from school. At least that was the plan. But when classmates Jodi Adams and Bruce Arnold found her, Kat lay unconscious on the second floor of a rat infested warehouse. Beside her was an empty syringe—and a dead boy. Jodi wanted answers—and justice. How did the boy die? Was Kat next? Why did the syringe look familiar to Bruce? And why did the police refuse to help? Nothing could prepare Jodi for the fact that some kids are worth more dead than alive. And, just when she thought she’d uncover the truth, she got more than she bargained for. The Russian Mafia.

That’s the back cover.  The description lets us know that, once again, Satan’s Future Semen Receptacle Heather is back:

It’s Labor Day weekend - and it is turning out to be a holiday that will not soon be forgotten. More than 15,000 ravers have gathered for a 72-hour dance party at the waterfront warehouse in Philadelphia. Kat is strung out on drugs and next to her lies the body of a dead boy who overdosed; Heather falls in love with a college freshman who threatens to leave her with nothing but feelings of rejection and serious regret. Experiencing firsthand the dangers of an unguarded heart, the girls are forced to reevaluate God’s true place in their lives.

NOT A COLLEGE FRESHMAN!!!!one!  The only thing worse than an internet predator is a college boy.

It’s either Labor Day…or Memorial Day.  The book’s inability to determine exactly which is probably a function of the authors’ in-depth research into the rave scene; after all, waving around glowsticks in the dark and trying to act like raves still have any relevance to people’s lives does often leave one highly disoriented.  Huntingdon Valley apparently treats all of its honorific holidays as chances to engage in quaint drug-fueled bacchanals, leaving the exasperated Jodi Adams to clean up after her friends’ life-altering messes.  It seems as if the smart move here isn’t to toil away doing God’s work in Mid-Atlantic Gomorrah, but instead to do like sane people do and come to the comfortably agnostic Midwest where your Labor Day is mainly spent trying to find a grocery store that still has yellow mustard. 

And who knows what the hell the Russian Mafia is doing in the middle of the HV, but I do hope they can answer Bruce’s syringe-related inquiries.  Or, at the very least, get those pesky rats out of the death warehouse.  If you’re going to pointlessly die in order to bring perpetual screwups marginally closer to Jesus, you at least deserve to do so without having vermin scamper over your corpse.

Jodi, however, doesn’t just sanctimoniously lecture her dumbass friends.  She works, too.  Black Friday is the story of her pre-senior year summer work experience in the liberal media.

Jodi Adams has landed her dream job as a summer intern at the local city paper, The Montgomery Times. This killer summer job will launch her senior year with a bang as she goes after the hard angle on an investigative piece on area hospitals. But when Jodi’s reporting reveals information her employer doesn’t want to hear-much less publish-Jodi and Stan Taylor find that the information trail is vanishing before their eyes. Lives are at stake, and it looks like theirs could be next. Watch your back on Black Friday.

I actually have nothing to mock about this.  This is the exact experience 17-year-old high school interns have at small papers.  They find out things about area

abortion clinics

hospitals that risk life and limb but could result in

baby killers

great truths

burning in hell

being revealed.  Well, at least the Christian teenagers.  The atheists have to figure out a way to finish the copy editor’s assignment, because he’s in the bathroom sneaking a drink before his court-mandated AA meeting. 

Last but not least, we have Bob branching out to write The Mind Siege Project:

In the tradition of MTV’s The Real World, eight high school juniors volunteer for a week on a houseboat in the name of experimental education. Rosie Meyer, the former Olympic silver medallist turned social studies teacher, dreams of her students learning first-hand the realities of tolerance and diversity. And learn they do. Although the students sail for a single week, the issues faced, the truths uncovered, and the lessons learned leave them changed for a lifetime. Followed by six short Bible studies, Tim LaHaye and Bob DeMoss offer a hands-on guide for students who grapple with the unbelievable social pressures and tough choices that face teens in the twenty-first century.

This could make less sense - if Dennis Miller described it. 

It’s not even clear what culture war myths this plays on.  Big gay houseboats?  The moral decadence of runner-up Olympians?  Sailing?

In light of this output, what’s surprising isn’t that DeMoss made racist waffle mix.  What’s surprising is that he isn’t also selling black licorice nooses to go along with them.  That’s funny!

 

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Posted by Jesse Taylor on 08:30 AM • (15) Comments

Sweet FSM, these “plot synopses” smack of the old anti-VD and teen in trouble films of the 50s, with a hefty dose of “Goofus and Gallant” thrown in.  I seriously doubt I could through the first chapter of either of them without hurling the book against a wall. 

Oh, and the Left Behind series?  Read the first chapter of each volume, then put them back on the bookstore shelves.  See, I’ve read it before.

I write better stuff, and I’ve published three SF novels and contribute to an anthro fiction website.

LaHaye figured prominently in a little tome titled Holy Terror, an expose of the religious Right during the Reagan years.  He is not recalled fondly.

Comment #1: The Wanderer  on  09/14  at  08:42 AM

But…but….how is Kat going to save Heather from that boy if she’s strung out on whatever it is she’s strung out on?

Comment #2: speedbudget  on  09/14  at  09:37 AM

“It’s not even clear what culture war myths this plays on.  Big gay houseboats?  The moral decadence of runner-up Olympians?  Sailing?”

...no, silly!  It’s just reinforcing the idea that any time you interact with people who are not True Christians, you’re signing up for a one-way trip to Hell.  And, of course, True Christians does not include Catholics, Lutherans, Presbyterians, Mormons, or anyone else outside a few selected True Churches. 

(Which churches are True Churches is subject to debate/argument among potential candidates who are all convinced of their own salvation and all the other’s condemnation to hell.)

This is why it’s so vitally important for the Christian Dominionists to suceed in their sacred quest to bring America back to being the (exclusively) Christian Nation they are all convinced it was meant to be. 

Don’t worry though.  They won’t kill us non-True Christians.  They’ll just build nice Relocation Camps for us where we can serve God through our work for Gilead.

Arbeit Macht Frei!...

“In light of this output, what’s surprising isn’t that DeMoss made racist waffle mix.  What’s surprising is that he isn’t also selling black licorice nooses to go along with them.  That’s funny!”

...and they’d only use black because they couldn’t find white licorice.  Thanks for giving them another idea, Jesse…

Comment #3: MikeEss  on  09/14  at  10:43 AM

Oh, OK.  The guy writes Chick Tracts.  I see.

Comment #4: The Opoponax  on  09/14  at  10:46 AM

Do you know they have historical fiction like this? My grandmother used to send them to me when I was little, and I read about the harrowing adventures of some whiney girl on a steamboat who rescued slaves through the power of Jesus.

Comment #5: Courtney Stoker  on  09/14  at  11:20 AM

Those blurbs are unreadable to even me, a hardened reader of fanfic.

That stuff gets published and sells by the millions, while most of my writer friends are struggling to make ends meet, or make their royalties stay ahead of their returns.

I may be currently committing Inspirational Romance, but at least it’s erotic, gay, pagan Inspirational Romance!

Comment #6: Angelia Sparrow  on  09/14  at  12:16 PM

Why did a specific syringe look familiar to Bruce?  Where did he pick up his ability to differentiate syringes? Is he sharing dirty needles?  Did it have some kind of evil symbol on it?  Was it his stolen lucky syringe and he’s been looking all over for it?

Comment #7: Kyso K  on  09/14  at  01:43 PM

Citeez are evile!  Country livin’ with oxycontin’ and wildbakzeet rapezex iz the only true Save American Christian wayz!

Comment #8: Ms Kate  on  09/14  at  01:53 PM

Was it his stolen lucky syringe and he’s been looking all over for it?

LOL.

Comment #9: The Opoponax  on  09/14  at  01:56 PM

But when classmates Jodi Adams and Bruce Arnold found her, Kat lay unconscious on the second floor of a rat infested warehouse.

Don’t worry, telling me the place is generically “rat-infested” is quite enough for me to imagine the full horror of the scene. I’m unclear on the fucking point of her being on the “second” floor, though. Why not the “filthy” floor, or the “body-fluid-of-every-description stained” floor? Its condition, composition, or even color is more interesting than its general geographical location. Shit. Basically any other damn adjective.

Comment #10: tb  on  09/14  at  02:14 PM

Clearly, tb, you have not read your bible.

Didn’t you know that Leviticus specificallly commands Teh Faithful NEVER to pass out on the second floor of a warehouse?  First floor, perfectly fine.  As is the basement.  Even a third or fourth floor is acceptable.  But NEVER the second.

And yes, this does extend to gentrified warehouse loft apartments.  A truly devout Christian will always scrutinize the apartment number on any party invitation they receive, and call ahead to determine the specific building type and location within the structure if anything is ambiguous.  If you absolutely must visit the second floor of a warehouse, you are not under any circumstances to engage in any activity that could result in the loss of consciousness.  Youth ministers are currently debating whether this applies to slumber parties and lock-in overnight events where sleeping may be involved.

Comment #11: The Opoponax  on  09/14  at  02:32 PM

I think I’m going to sit in the corner over there and cry while I receive another rejection letter from an agent because the publishing business is so tough nowadays that only the best and brightest talents can get their foot in the door. 

Then when I’m done crying, I’m going to go to a rave, get high and join the Russian mafia.

Comment #12: Mel B.  on  09/14  at  02:38 PM

Stolen lucky syringe FTW!

Seriously, I edit elementary school press releases for a living, and this is by far the worst writing I’ve read in years.

Comment #13: realityfighter  on  09/14  at  04:29 PM

Soon, Heather will discover John’s true identity.

Ooh, ooh, I know!  I know!  He’s Satan, right?  Am I right?  No?  Damn, that would’ve been kind of good too, like a teenage version of the Witches of Eastwick.

Comment #14: keshmeshi  on  09/14  at  11:52 PM

“He’s Satan, right?  Am I right?”

Actually, the one Amazon review currently visible says he’s the dude from Untraceable, only if the Comcast choke left him hawking snuff films on eBay instead of streaming them live.

Comment #15: preying mantis  on  09/15  at  01:19 AM
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