Westboro Baptist Church
The Westboro Baptist Church is the lone bastion of reason and morality in a world gone mad. Logically, it is located in Topeka, Kansas, home to intelligent design and the rock super-group of the same name. The Church, which is rumored to have in excess of twelve members and growing by no less than none every year, is headed by misunderstood idiot-savant and knight-errant of goodness Fred Phelps, attorney-at-law.
Under Phelps' utterly creative, sometimes incendiary and always visionary leadership, the Westboro Baptist Church has successfully drawn the ire of pretty much everyone in the world. It has achieved this well-thought-out and beneficial aim by rejoicing for natural disasters, the spread of disease and other afflictions on humankind that are generally regarded by the rest of the world as a time for compassion and mourning.
Ironically, due to its obsession with celebrating misery, the Church has itself in recent years invited what it considers unwelcome attention to its activities, including vicious beatings of its members, intermittent showerings of its compound with pig feces, and yet more vicious beatings of its members.
A Great Religion Is Conceived
In 1955, while being sodomized in a Topeka motel by a burly man known only as "Cletus", Fred Phelps had a vision of the Angel Conveniently Made Up. The angel admonished Phelps, saying unto him "Yea, for in the eyes of the Lord God fags are no good at all, and He hates fags, and thou art condemned to eternal hellfire for thy sinful buggery," Phelps, stunned, fell prostrate and begged the angel if there was no way to repent for his sins. Thus quieried, the angel said, "Of course: as thy asshole hath offended the Lord our God, thou must become the largest asshole in the world to cleanse thy sinnery."
Phelps, thus charged by the angel, took the message to heart and finished his sodomy session without the customary reach-around and showed Cletus the door. After cleaning up, Phelps set out to form a new ministry to spread the words of the vision he had received. However, having only a precious few words from the angel from which to make a covenant with the Lord, Phelps parsed the most valuable lesson he could wrap his IQ of upwards of 85 around: "God does not like fags in the least." But this had too many words, and eventually became "God hates fags."
From this inspired wellspring of divine inspiration, Phelps became a lawyer, then a mass-marketer, but then seemingly missed a golden oppurtunity by not becoming a televangelist. This would have easily allowed him to reach a wider audience and annoy the shit out of more people with his drastically oversimplified, even moronic interpretation of God's word, but Phelps clearly lost out on a marvelous chance to make himself and his ministry even more widely-loathed.[citation needed]
His tiny ministry established firmly in the basement of his modest Topeka home, Phelps set out to erase any trace of his previous dandy dalliances and married some homely mule, who would bear him upwards of nine proto-mongoloid childrens from which would come the primary "numerical" expansion of his ministry.
The Gay '90s for Westboro
Sometime in 1991, Phelps looked into the mostly empty pews of his ministry and realized no one except for his own children were coming to hear his fascinating and deeply intellectual sermons. Then, as if on cue, the Angel Conveniently Made Up appeared before him and said:
| “ | Fred, taketh brightly colored signs with words written upon them and use them to spread thy wisdom to those who can read! Picket! Picket in the name of Our Lord! Do this at places such as the funerals of fags, or funerals of non-fags, or businesses that have some Kevin Bacon-like connection with fags, or anywhere, really, just so long as it pisses someone off, hopefully fags. | ” |
Thus charged by God, Phelps executed his mission with flair, taking his family hither and yon, seeking out events that one would not normally consider picketing, such as groundbreaking ceremonies ("God hates fag groundbreakers!"), the opening of public buildings ("God hates fag libraries!") and funerals of newborns ("God hates fag unbaptized children!").
During the 1990s, Phelps and his ministry logged over 5,000 picketings, although it seems the picketing didn't stop a damned thing. It was during this golden time for Phelps that his children began intensive inbreeding, as well as ever-more colorful and creative sign-making. However, Phelps' critics point out that fags (which they call homosexuals) continued running around pretty much the same as they had done before, and even in instances where it could be argued that God's hatred for them resulted in fatal calamity (the death of Matthew Shepard, for example), there was no proof of this. Moreover, it could be argued that there was no point at all to any of the picketing, a view not shared by the Westboro Baptist Church or Fred Phelps.
In 1999, it is rumored that Phelps, undaunted by the hollow idiocy and clear failure of the entire undertaking of "fag-picketing", made a sign that read "God hates my fag wife" and picketed his wife for several weeks. It is not known if this picketing was successful, as she remains in her Homeliness by his side, a good and dutiful beard.[citation needed]
Turn of the Century: The Shenanigans Continue in Earnest
The turn of the century saw no change whatsoever from Phelps and his ministry, though at times they seemed directionless, picketing post office drop-off boxes, people walking dogs, and day-care centers for special-needs children.
The media began to tire of Westboro's antics, and even people being actively picketed began to develop a robust tolerance of the ministry's hateful demonstrating. In a hand-held recording of a McDonald's in Topeka being picketed by Phelps and his clan for serving "Fag hamburgers to fags," the manager of the franchise stands near the small cluster of Westboro protesters, shaking his head and smiling. The audio is muffled, but audible:
PHELPS ET AL: God hates you and your fag hamburgers!
MANAGER: Look, you guys are too much. Seriously.
PHELPS ET AL: God hates you and your fag hamburgers!
MANAGER: I'd ask you to leave, but...
PHELPS ET AL: God hates you and your fag hamburgers!
MANAGER: I'd ask you to leave, but I think you're attracting more patrons. Could I ask you to just keep it down while the customers enjoy some Big Macs and laugh at you?
PHELPS: You're going to hell, fag!
MANAGER: Look, I'm gay and I'm comfortable with it. I'd just ask you to please keep it down.
PHELPS: Sodomite! You're going to hell to burn with you and your fag hamburgers! None will be saved!
MANAGER: Thanks ever so much.
The video cuts out soon afterwards, but Phelps appears clearly flustered at his inability to rankle anyone, at one point hitting one of his children with his picket.
A New Beginning
Fortunately for Westboro, the events of September 11, 2001 provided ample oppurtunity for Phelps and his brood to protest everything in America anew, especially those soldiers killed fighting the War on Terror. Subsequently, the malaise towards Westboro that the public had been stricken with at the turn of the century gave way to more of a furious, fist-swinging anger, as the grief of familial loss combined with the sight of a dozen or so braying Midwestern jackasses with nonsensical, ludricrous signs proved too much for most to take.
To this end, Phelps and many members of the Church have suffered cuts, bruises, abrasions, Indian burns, wet willies, broken bones, sprains, dislocated shoulders, lost teeth, gouged eyes and even curb stompings. Though externally the repeated beatings (which are tacitly allowed by law enforcement across the country) seem to be dampening the malicious spirit of the Westboro Baptist Church, Phelps (minus several teeth and with a severely shattered nose) continues to preach his special, pointless brand of religious hatred to anyone who will listen, which is currently his own family.
In 2006, Phelps was seen marching around the Westboro complex wearing a suit made of bubble wrap, holding a sign aloft reading "God is a fag." It is not known if this sign sigalled a daring new course of irrational hatred for Phelps and his ministry, for both Phelps and the sign were soon doused by one of the bi-weekly launchings of liquified pig feces delivered by catapult into the compound by members of the state-approved Douse Fred Phelps With Pig Shit Society.
Westboro Church in the Grand Scheme of Things
Phelps and his Church are regarded by the denizens of Hell as having a bright, though less than pleasant, future inhabiting the ninth level of Hell.
See also
- Shirley Phelps-Roper
- World's Greatest Asshole Competition
- Cranio-rectal-inversion
- Religion
- Jack Chick
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