To be clear: you are the absolute worst, and there will be a reckoning, before God, one day. Hope you’re wearing clean underwear.

Here we wondering how modern evangelicalism so utterly lost its way, and became rampant with misogynistic and chauvinistic screeds, masquerading as conservative Christian values.

Previously we wrote a humorous comparison between the foul mouthed Apostle to the gentiles and the GOP candidate for pussy grab...errr president. Now, we're looking into the lives of King Solomon and the Orange Wonder. 

"The Church universal does not feel one way about abortion or legal proceedings within the United States. Individual denominations, and individual people within those denominations, will make up their own minds in regards to these things. And miraculously, divinely, they remain within the Love of Christ."

" . . .And as we all know, it only matters if a leader’s morality is sound in one instance, on one issue. That is all God cares about."

"These mitzvoth are going to be huge. There is nothing like them. I guarantee that. And of course, I wrote them myself." 

"...the following missive proving how Donald J. Trump of New York, the Republican nominee for President of these United States has taken up the prophetic and apostolic mantle of Saint Paul, formerly of Tarsus, one of the chief architects of this nation’s greatest religion (after self-obsession)."

Fleeing oppression and likely death, the holy family crossed international boarders without papers. They took whatever they could carry, what little resources they had, and fled. Joseph trusted that God would provide for his family: a Brown day laborer with carpentry skills, a young, frightened wife, and their precociously wide-eyed child.

A follow-up to our post regarding Franklin Graham's position on the refugee crisis, and a response to some unsolicited feedback from a fan. Because sometimes we must meet fake news and alternative faith head on. 

...Frankie-boy, you brought the Bible into this: That wonderful tome we love, your butt-buddy's tiny hand swore the oath of office on (miraculously, without bursting into flames), and whose dust-covered binding you haven't cracked in years.