Once in a long while, an obscure person in the form of Sarah Pei Ling, er, I mean, Sarah Palin pops up from nowhere and talks rubbish and gets noticed. (“My greatest regret is that I didn’t manage to bring my parents to Universal Studios” or “You can actually see Russia from land here in Alaska.”)
But if you just go to church on Sundays, obscure people spewing crap and getting attention have been there all the time.
I’m referring to the preachers. Yup, those parasites who don’t do a single day of honest work but prey on your feeble-mindedness.
How to be a preacher?
First, a gift of the gap.
Next, reasonably acceptable looks – make-up and Michael Jackson outfits are ok.
Third, some self-published books and DVD recordings of sermons.
Finally, showmanship and a dash of charisma plus a compelling message – like a comfortable sermon people find easy to digest, peppered with exhortations like “Give all you have and you’ll get back a hundred times more” or “72 virgins await you” – and voilà! – you’re on your way! You’ll have the throngs throwing money at you and never-been-fucked 40-year-old spinsters throwing their bloomers – and themselves, saggy breasts and all – at your feet.
You’ll hit the zeitgeist with your bullshit.
See you in hell, Mr Preacher!
God will catch up with you!
Meanwhile, I’m gonna start a new religion too.
Bells and whistles, song and dance.
We accept donations via credit cards.
Confessions online, offline, whatever, anyway you want it.
It’s so lucrative.