Fokofpolisiekar

What is happening to our once God-fearing land? It's all going to hell in a handbasket, is what I think. When Afrikaans rock bands are now telling police to f**k off, the flames of hell are already igniting the fabric of our society.

I was recently handing out some gospel tracts I've personally written -- every now and again, a good street evangelism session is good for the soul. I was wandering past some night clubs where the flames of hell literally burn holes through the pavement, when I heard a band strike up and saw the crowd going ape inside. I asked the bouncer who was playing -- Fokofpolisiekar, he said. I paid my thirty bucks and joined the godless crowd. I know I don't look anything like an Afrikaans punk rocker -- I look more like a gun-toting missionary who loves paintball. But I was pushed and shoved towards the front of the crowd and got close enough to the lead singer to shove a fistload of tracts into his shirt pocket.

I've never crowd surfed before this night, but when the bouncers tried to donner me because I'd accosted the band with unsolicited literature (the one tract was all about the evils of rock music, which is quite fitting given the context), I allowed the drunken crowd to carry me to the back where I made a hasty exit.

I've later learned that the lead singer of the band has a minister for a father. I guess the devil can corrupt even the seed of the righteous, although I'm convinced my kids will never dream of disgracing me by joining a band that curses law enforcers. When I become president, bands like this will be publicly executed.

Fight the good fight.

PS And if you're pulled over for speeding, like I was the same night, do not be tempted to say where you were. You'll definitely spend the weekend in jail getting close to some smelly prisoner.

Crash Course In Diplomacy

I had to go to the police station again over the weekend ... since my little paintball episode last year, I've become a household name among my local community law enforcers. I don't mind really -- no publicity is bad, as they say. It's all good, in other words, and I have to agree. Misunderstood and persecuted, yes, but infamy and fame are just different ends of the same tightrope, and I am remarkable at keeping my balance.

I digress ... as I was saying, I had to visit the local copshop because of another unfortunate incident. I was still interviewing potential receptionists at my office late on Friday evening, and on my way home I stopped at a believing neighbour's home to drop off the manuscript of my latest book. The working title is A Missionary Guide to Africa's Finest Paintball Destinations. This elderly neighbour, bless her soul, is one of my proofreaders. I was late for my family's regular Friday Game's Evening -- we were going to try out a pirated version of the Eternal Forces video game -- so I left my car running in her driveway while I dropped off the manuscript. Before I knew what the blazes was going on, I heard a screech and loud bang and then even louder cursing from the street. At the first nanosecond hint of danger, I had flung my body heroically over the poor old dear, to protect her from danger in case it was an assassination attempt.

It turns out that my handbrake was not up and my car had rolled back into the street, into an oncoming vehicle.

To make matters worse, my heroic dive to save my proofreader's precious, godly life from the possible terrorist attack, broke several brittle bones in her body. She is recovering in hospital and promises to proofread while she lies in bed.

But this is not half as bad as the crash. The person driving was none other than the father of one of the kids I had taught a good lesson to about worshiping Satan on Halloween. I can see where the kid gets his evil ways from -- the fuck yous and you bloody stupid piece of horse shit comments that emitted from his vile mouth were like lethal bullets aimed at my righteous soul.

His car was a bit buckled and so was mine, but thank the good Lord for insurance.

I went to the police station to both report the incident and lay a charge of character assassination on the unbelieving, foul-mouthed [word deleted]. I guess I'll be back in court again as well ...

Fight the good fight. And please remember to pull up your handbrake.

Kill 'Em All

A violent Christian video game for children to play ... why didn't I think of that? But despite my regret at not being the originator of such a brilliant idea, I'm still it's most enthusiastic supporter! A video game where kids can fight the forces of the antiChrist ... a game where they can say 'Praise the Lord' each time they snuff out one of the bad fellas. Now that's something I want each of my kids to have. I'll even play it! [I wonder what awaits the top scorer ... a special seat next to Jesus in heaven ... ?]

If you think I'm just making stuff up [again] or exaggerating [once again], think again. This thing is going to sit beside Grand Theft Auto as a kick-ass video game, and at least instead of thugs running amok, the only thugs here are the forces of the antiChrist who will hopefully go down in flames when my kids are loosed with their arsenal of virtual weapons. Good training for the real thing.

As I was saying, if you reckon I'm just up to my old tricks of stretching the truth or just plain lying like Rahab, watch out for Left Behind: Eternal Forces.

Fight the good fight. Use your joystick if you must.

Every Village Needs An Idiot

I will smack the next person who insults that good man, GW Bush. I'm tired of hearing him referred to as a village idiot, an imbecile, a moron and a stupid person. All those things mean the same thing, by the way ... I'm no village idiot.

So what if he stuffed a whole lot of food in his mouth and said shit while talking to his pal Tony Blair. I mean, so [word deleted] what! That does not change the fact that he has been called by God to be the next Winston Churchill, to rid the world of evil once and for all. So [word deleted] what if he has created more problems for the world, more terrorists for future generations to combat, more people who will associate militancy with Christianity ... what's wrong with that? Onward Christian soldiers, I say!

And if you'd like to know, I'm 100 percent behind every gigantic Israeli bomb flattening Lebanon and its civilian population. They had no right to abduct those innocent Israeli soldiers and demand that all the political prisoners Israel is holding be released. They're not political prisoners, by the way, but ungodly terrorists. And everyone knows that Israel is God's holy land. It doesn't matter what Israel does to its neighbours ... God is behind every exploding bomb they detonate on Lebanon. It's like the good old times when Joshua slaughtered masses of Canaanite pagans.

I know, I know, you're wondering how a follower of Christ can say such things. Well, read your Bible, you moronic village idiot. Holy bloodshed. It's all good. If we want peace, we need to wipe the ugly smear of terrorism and pagan combatants from the record of history. Jesus said He never came to bring peace, but division. Who are we to stand in His way by promoting peaceful resolutions in the Middle East? Drop those bombs and let's get on with it.

Fight the good fight.

Office, Fort, Same Difference

I have a significant staff fall out. People say it's my abrasive personality. I tell them if they can't stand the heat in the kitchen, get out. I have used stronger language in the past, and I know the Lord understands. He called people a brood of vipers, so I don't think it's a problem to call someone a mother-fornicator.

The receptionist at the mission headquarters resigned after one week's service this morning. Why? Well, she simply did not understand the requirements I have in place for everyone who serves the Lord through our mission, even if they just answer the phone and screen my calls. (Generally it's almost impossible to get through to me on the phone as I suspect every caller of having a hidden agenda.)

Anyway, the receptionist did not realise that everyone on my staff is obliged to pack a weapon on them at all times and to attend compulsory shooting practice during every lunch break. I can't have some lunatic burst into my mission office, even though it is a secret location, and not have competent, trained people on hand to defend the righteous.

She was completely shell-shocked when her first lunchbreak was at the shooting range. One week of weapons training did nothing to turn her into a more competent warrior for the Lord. Instead, it made her a jittery, nervous wreck who on several occasions hit the alarm button and screamed hysterically that we were under attack, simply because a door had slammed. I can't have people like this on staff who may take a pot shot when my back is turned -- I'm always vigilant, but you don't expect friendly fire in your own office. At least let's shoot each other by mistake out on the battlefield, not while we're having a Bible study or prayer meeting.

So if you're wanting to volunteer your services at my mission, make sure you're armed and ready, not armed and a potential life-threat to those around you.

Fight the good fight.

PS If you know of a weapons-trained receptionist, please let me know.

Happy Birthday to Me

It's my birthday today. I'm not really pro-worldly celebrations, but when I found out that I celebrate my birthday with GW Bush, well I had to go big. My wife gave me her gift early this morning before the kids were up -- I have an unsettling suspicion that Liberty was already up and took a peek through the open crack in our bedroom curtains. There are some lovely rose bushes right outside our bedroom window, but I'm sure my vocal appreciation of my wife's lingerie-parading got the better of his curiosity. I'll have to debrief him later -- don't want him getting ideas about anything other than the missionary position being acceptable for the righteous. I overstepped my boundaries this morning ...

What am I going to do for the public side of my celebrations? Well, I've got a public rally planned at the local shopping centre during lunch. Nothing like a public reading of an imprecatory psalm to get the blood flowing -- okay, my morning activities did the job as well. But I need an additional buzz.

I'm then going to treat myself to a few new paintball items. Then I'm taking the whole family out to feed the penguins. I may squeeze in a shark cage-dive, a jetski trip to Robben Island (where I'll read another imprecatory psalm remembering the future judgment of God on all involved in the release of Mandela), and to end it all, we'll spend a significant amount of recent donor funds on an expensive dinner. No alcohol.

Please don't send cards or gifts. But my mission will gladly accept any funds you may have spent on a worldly gift. After today, I'll need to replenish one or two accounts.

Fight the good fight.