By Smaktakula
Lucky You! You Get To Hear What We Sound Like In Real Life. Sorta.
Oh boy–are you guys in for a treat! We’ve enlisted the services of the Rev. Hubris B. Buchanan, author of such books as San Francisco: The New Gomorrah and The Fiery Pits of Hell: Why You’ll End Up There, to make a very special announcement about upcoming PT features.
The following audio file is NSFW. Not for any naughty language (yeah, we were kinda caught off-guard by that as well), but for the very real possibility that anyone who catches you listening to it will most likely think you’re insane.
Although Reverend Buchanan Has Also Nailed A Skanky Prostitute Or Two In His Time, He Has Yet To Make An Abject Apology.
Promethean Times 
Amen.
I am looking forward to the next audio feature in which you explain why week after weary week my lottery numbers NEVER come in.
I am quite sure Yeats forgives you. Though considering he was into the occult, maybe you have to forgive him?
I’m not so sure he’ll forgive me. He hasn’t spoken to me since I admonished him that one does not slouch toward bethlehm–even a rough beast should demonstrate proper posture.
Amen….
I too am looking forward to hearing more from the renowned Promethean Times..
Why friend; the mind boggles (I say it jest boggles) at the thought of what could be comin’ next….
Signed: A gooood friend… (No name supplied)
Thank you. And actually, hearing your lovely voice doing narration was one of the inspirations for embarking on this. The effect is quite different, though!
Why Thank You friend…. I’m really enjoying your take on life and love, love, love the audio feature..!
Smaktakula,
Dude. I was reading a post from a bipolar writer when this started playing… It was an interesting soundtrack, to say the least. Amen to that.
Le Clown
Well thank you for your interest!
you’ve lost your mind but i kinda like it.
I didn’t lose it so much as I’ve misplaced it. I know it’s out there somewhere.
Thanks, Brigitte.
And I’m embarrassed to say I just this moment realized (and correct me if I’m wrong) that your name should be pronounced (bri-JHEET) and not (BRIDGE-it). I know it doesn’t matter in print, but I’ve been mentally mispronouncing it.
I’m going to give you not just an AMEN but also a GLORY and HALLELUJAH. But what kind of preacher are you, that you didn’t provide an address for us to send cash donations???
It must have been an oversight on his part. How else will be able to part with our hard-earned cash? By the way, for years I’ve been dying for a reasonably priced prayer handkerchief. Will they be available?
Available? Absolutely!
Reasonably priced? Well, Tom–now that’s a bit of a slippery slope. I mean, I could say “yes, they’ll be expensive,” or “No, they’ll actually be quite affordable,” but in doing so I would be making a judgement on what you consider to be a bargain. I think you’ll agree that doing so would not just be a disservice to you, but to me as well and anybody who’s reading this. The prayer shawls are $199 each or $299 for a set of two, by the way. And I think that would to a very large degree cut into the efficacy of the Promethean Times message. And I have too much integrity for that.
I can’t believe the low price you’re selling those prayer shawls for. You can count on me for at least half a dozen. Aren’t you losing money?
There are few things that irk me as much as the so-called prosperity gospel, which makes the poor obviously not so blessed and allows camels to slide with ease through the eyes of needles.
Thanks, Madame W. In fact, the Reverend has been known to ask for money, and also to hawk various Biblically-themed merchandise (e.g., Shower Curtain of Turin). I think he subscribes to the theory espoused by Robert Duvall’s character in the film Colors: “No son. Let’s WALK down the hill and fuck ’em all.”
And I realize that without context, the previous comment is rather crude not particularly funny. If you haven’t seen it, a highlight of the movie is the red-haired kid from Children of the Corn playing a cholo gangster.
Argh, my sucky Internet connection won’t let me play the sound file. P.S. I watched that last Fred Armisen clip about three hundred times : )
I’m glad you liked it. That just makes me howl. “Mi scuze!” I’ve been to Europe a few times, and no one has ever taken such an interest in me!
Sadly, in not hearing this post, you missed out on my golden tones. Fear not, thanks partially to some things we have going on in our “real” lives, we’ll be doing several more audio posts.
Wonderful. Hopefully they will work for me!
Then, check out our first installment of Ask Tardsie, you’ll be super-glad you did.
Cheer up sad sack, your day is gonna come…
but why? Why must I live another day?
If for nothing else, then live for future audio posts. That is the only hope that some people have. We’ll try not to disappoint.
Oh, I like this new feature. Talk about a sensory experience!
Thanks, Carrie! I enjoyed doing it, so there will be more to come. And I think it’s great professional practice. I mean, if I ever decide to become a televangelist.
I am–no joke–an ordained minister. I’ve actually married people. Well, one couple, which counts as “people.” They’re divorced now.
Really? An ordained minister? Maybe you’re trying to get back at me for the Carl Bernstein thing, but I’ll take your word for it. If it’s true though, there must be a Tardie’s True Ass Tale in there somewhere.
I’m not employing a Bernstein Feint; it’s the truth. I can marry ’em, bury ’em and otherwise consecrate ’em. I can’t, however, circumcise ’em, which is fine with me, as I’m not down with the cutting.
And given how I often see funny in the most mundane of situations, you’d THINK there would be a good story in this, but it’s rather anticlimactic. I’d gotten the online ordination on a lark (you never know when you’re going to need it; seriously, if someone you know ever goes all ‘Exorcist’ you’ll wish I was there), and knowing this, my buddy asked me to perform his ceremony. He later performed mine, and did, I think, a better job–but to be fair, he had my sterling example from which to build.
It was a wild wedding though, held in Tacoma, Washington’s historic Union Train Station (which is now a Dale Chihuly museum and required a STAGGERING deposit), and yet was one where the bride did keg stands. Good times.
Well, I can do the circumcising, so I guess all bases are covered…
You are a Jill of many trades, Ms. Mengele!
That I am, though I think that SS moniker might be a bit rough. The Slicer would be fine…
And I trust you know I was joking (especially given the cultural implications of circumcision vs. the name I dropped). Although I feel circumcision is unnecessary in the 21st Century, and chose (along with my wife) accordingly for my own children, I believe in choice, and in parents having at least some say in their children’s upbringing. I get a little disgusted with the rabid anti-circumcision crowd, actually. “I know what’s best for YOUR child.”
Every time I go to a conference in San Francisco, I face that crowd. But I think they’re partially targeting the wrong audience. It’s parents that make the choice to circumcise their child. Maybe the protesters should be lined up outside prenatal centers instead, or anywhere else those protruding bellies are to be found.
And yes, I assumed you were kidding on the name. 🙂
Well, that’s the thing about the Bay Area that’s so irritating. There are many areas throughout the country that are very liberal, and vote according to their principles, just as there are conservative bastions. But the Bay Area has its head so far up its own ass that it’s become a caricature, and it’s sometimes mind-boggling that so many people take them seriously. I think it takes a tremendous amount of ethical gymnastics to believe drugs are a matter of choice, but at the same time tobacco (even e-cigs) products should be banned and pseudoephedrine regulated. Where a fourteen-year-old can’t buy Asprin but can get an abortion without her parents knowledge (not permission, KNOWLEDGE). And the obvious pride these people take in being “free-thinkers.” So tiresome.
Yes, well, I usually offer a big ol’ smile to all six San Fran protesters outside the convention hall. And for an introvert, that’s a real accomplishment.
But I hear you on the hypocrisy. In so many things.
My son- oddly enough- has thanked me many times for not having him circumcised. In 1991 when he was born, it was done without even a local anesthetic. The pediatrician I was going to be taking him to was dead set against routine circumcision, and insisted I watch a video of a newborn being circumcised before I made the decision. The way that poor kid wailed it had to have hurt like hell.
That, and my insurance company didn’t cover it, so I couldn’t see spending $800 just to make my newborn’s business look “normal.” Obviously, his business ended up being functional anyway, so it’s a win-win.
What the actual fuck.
Amen! Why not? The good Rev. reminds me of the snake handlers down in WV. All he needs is a few copperheads and rattlesnakes in on the act- and a P.O. Box so that Aunt Frances can send whatever’s left of her SS check when she’s done feeding the cats. (When Aunt Frances was alive I think half of her check went to buy more 9-Lives and the other half got sent directly to Jimmy Swaggart. I hope the Lord counted the thought behind her generosity anyway.)
Thanks, Tina! (I know that’s an old joke, but it tickles me and anyway, a joke’s not dead for me until I’ve run that sucker so deep into the ground that…well, I kind of ran out of metaphor there, but really really deep!),
I have sort of a fascination with evangelists, and snake-handlers are no exception. I would very much like to go to a snake-handling church someday, but I think they’re hard to find as it’s illegal in a great many states. Also, and I mean this sincerely, I wouldn’t want to disturb their worship to gawk. Not simply because it’s rude (although that too, believe it or not), but because I wouldn’t want to be responsible for distracting one of those people at the wrong moment.
Amen! Living here in Greenville, S.C. (where thrice-married Newt Gingrich won the arch-conservative, family-values Republican primary vote), you can hear the real thing on the radio all the time. It’s good for a laugh, until you remember that these people vote.
Bill
Thanks for reading/listening, Bill!
I’ve never understood the appeal of that smarmy little toad. And “Newt?” Newt is not a name for an adult. “Mitt” is a pretty silly nickname (although in fairness, the guy’s first name is Willard) for a grown man, but at least it’s a piece of athletic equipment and not a slimy, mud-dwelling amphibian.
I know the holy rollers you speak about on the radio. We don’t get them where I live on California’s Central Coast, but if you go just an hour and a half inland, you’re in the San Joaquin Valley (called ‘the new Appalachia’ by the Economist), and you can sometimes hear the hardcore evangelists out there. One guy, Bob Larson, used to specialize in casting out demons which had infiltrated the psyches of young people through the pernicious influence of Rock & Roll music.
My upbringing had a heavy fundamentalist influence (which may come as a complete shock to some, and no surprise whatsoever to others–you can often spot the fundy-raised if you know what to look for). What I suspect will surprise most everybody is that, although in my adult life I have not been a part of that culture except as an occasional visitor, I have nothing but positive memories of growing up in that environment.
But as I’ve gotten older, I wonder if my experience was somehow atypical. The church I remember took all comers, rich or poor. When the collection plate came around, nobody treated you differently if you passed it by. It didn’t matter what you wore to church as long as it was the best you had. People in my town knew that if they needed something (a car, a month’s rent, someone to take their child for a few weeks during a crisis) they could find it at the church. But as I’ve gone out in the world, I’ve seen something different. I see limousine driving preachers who tell the faithful that God wants them to send their last dime. It makes me very, very angry–because I remember something beautiful and good that made a difference for people. Sure, it sold hope, but there was more to it. It would be fair to say I despise the “gimme money” charlatans.
Amen. (but I’m NOT sending any money)
Your lips say no, but your pocketbook says Yes! Yes! Yes! If for less than the price of a cup of coffee every day you could ensure your place among the elect, wouldn’t you do it? Sure you would! And that’s why, if you act now, this limited time salvation offer, can be yours for the low-low price of $19.95 a month. But wait–if you call within the next ten minutes…
Damn…you tempt me so when you put it that way…I do have gray days full of suck…maybe this offer comes with a set of steak knives…I could use a new set OR you could throw in a second salvation juuusst in case I screw the first one up.
you could throw in a second salvation juuusst in case I screw the first one up.
I like the way you think, Chica Blanco. We’ll call it “Double Down on de Debil!”
I am at work right now. People here already think I am weird. I’ll wait to listen to it somewhere else. Somewhere I can bother some new folks.
You’ll be glad you did. Wait until later, that is. As far as listening to it, we hope you’ll be glad you did.