06-30-2010, 07:27 AM
Flipping through the channels recently I came across the "Ernest Angley Hour" (remember him?) on one of those Christian cable networks that invariably feature fat white men with big white toupees in silly white suits and shiny white shoes singing and preaching like black men. Picture, if you will, Colonel Sanders meets Rush Limbaugh meets Foghorn Leghorn.
You know the network I'm talking about: the women all sport the signature Jiffy Pop hairdo, are drowning in costume jewelery, have perma-smiles bolted on to their heavily painted faces and, generally speaking, look more like drag queens than drag queens do. Picture, if you will, Divine meets...nah...leave it at Divine.
Together, with their fat white-washed male cast members, they carry their ever-present Donny & Marie microphones with them as they sway about on a stage littered with tacky gilded furniture and fake stained glass windows. They sing awful renditions of the lowest of low-church hymns and do their worst to perform various "Christian Rock" selections before compelling you to run to the phone.
Why? Why, to give them your credit card numbers of course. Because without your pledge, they won't be able to continue offending the airwaves with their disgusting travesty of a mockery of the Christian religion.
So anyway, out comes good ol' Ernest Angely to heal us! Hallelujah! In order to heal us, Ernest has decided to buck immemorial televangelical custom (because he's more saved than the others) by donning not a white toupee, but a black one (despite the fact that he's 130 years old). Still has the white coat and white shoes, though: but with red slacks. I say "slacks" rather than "pants" because they're definitely the type of pants that need to be referred to as "slacks". Oh...white belt, too, by the way. Black hair.
When I was just a kid, my cousin David and I used to watch "Davey & Goliath" on Sunday mornings, along with other childrens' shows, but we always made a point to find good ol' Ernest Angely on the dial, because he was funnier to us than anything else on TV.
"Brother, do ya suffer from dimensia? Sister, is uncontrollable menstruation taking your focus off the Lord? Momma, is that hip troubling you again? Well, put your hand up against the television set and be...HEEEEEALLL-DUH! Demons, come out! The power of Christ compells you!"
Well, anyway, it was good seeing you again after so long, Brother Ernest. You made me laugh all over again.
Amen, and again I say...Amen.
You know the network I'm talking about: the women all sport the signature Jiffy Pop hairdo, are drowning in costume jewelery, have perma-smiles bolted on to their heavily painted faces and, generally speaking, look more like drag queens than drag queens do. Picture, if you will, Divine meets...nah...leave it at Divine.
Together, with their fat white-washed male cast members, they carry their ever-present Donny & Marie microphones with them as they sway about on a stage littered with tacky gilded furniture and fake stained glass windows. They sing awful renditions of the lowest of low-church hymns and do their worst to perform various "Christian Rock" selections before compelling you to run to the phone.
Why? Why, to give them your credit card numbers of course. Because without your pledge, they won't be able to continue offending the airwaves with their disgusting travesty of a mockery of the Christian religion.
So anyway, out comes good ol' Ernest Angely to heal us! Hallelujah! In order to heal us, Ernest has decided to buck immemorial televangelical custom (because he's more saved than the others) by donning not a white toupee, but a black one (despite the fact that he's 130 years old). Still has the white coat and white shoes, though: but with red slacks. I say "slacks" rather than "pants" because they're definitely the type of pants that need to be referred to as "slacks". Oh...white belt, too, by the way. Black hair.
When I was just a kid, my cousin David and I used to watch "Davey & Goliath" on Sunday mornings, along with other childrens' shows, but we always made a point to find good ol' Ernest Angely on the dial, because he was funnier to us than anything else on TV.
"Brother, do ya suffer from dimensia? Sister, is uncontrollable menstruation taking your focus off the Lord? Momma, is that hip troubling you again? Well, put your hand up against the television set and be...HEEEEEALLL-DUH! Demons, come out! The power of Christ compells you!"
Well, anyway, it was good seeing you again after so long, Brother Ernest. You made me laugh all over again.
Amen, and again I say...Amen.