Although I might occasionally kid about my hometown and state, I am known to defend it against rather ignorant comments from those who've never been there and assume we're all braindead hicks. News like this, however, doesn't help my case.
For those who don't want to click the link, a lady who lives about 15 miles or so from where I grew up thinks she saw Jesus appear on her laundry room floor. What's more, her minister found that news to be exciting enough to include in his sermon, and people are already stopping by to visit.
Now, far be it from me to take away whatever comfort people can find in a floor stain. But let's think of Jesus for a second. Poor guy's been appearing in grilled cheese sandwiches, on trees in tiny towns and paint drippings for too long. At the very least, he should have a venue of the caliber of, say, the Helen Hayes Theatre. Even Jackie Mason's had the chance to appear there.
Meanwhile, I have to think of the writer of said article, who is new to the paper, and presumably, to Brazoria County. Chin up, my dear. This isn't indicative of what you'll be finding in Brazoria County. If it makes you feel better, one of my first articles was about a vandal who was setting portable toilets on fire. And no, I wouldn't provide a link to that story even if I thought it was on the Web somewhere.
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4 comments:
I keep waiting for the reverse, like the imprint of a bagel in a K-Mart print of The Last Supper.
A bagel? I don't know. That's awfully Jewish.
You're both going to hell. I'll pray for your evil souls.
We just have the Virgin Mary in pecan trees in Edna.
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