The Facebook Conversion: One Insult Can Change a Life Forever

A coffee shop. Walt, a professionally dressed man in his thirties sits at a table, drinking coffee and reviewing something on his laptop. SAMANTHA, also in her thirties and professionally dressed, enters with a coffee and her laptop and takes a seat at an adjoining table. WALT glances over at her, then resumes his work. He looks back at her as she opens up her laptop and appears to recognize her.

WALT: You’re Samantha, aren’t you?

SAMANTHA: What?

WALT: You’re Samantha.

SAMANTHA: Well, yeah, I–

WALT: You don’t remember me, do you?

SAMANTHA: No, I’m afraid I–

WALT: I’m a friend of Karen Lyndhurst.

SAMANTHA: Oh, yeah, Karen…I’m sorry, have we met?

WALT: Kind of…well, we had that political argument about abortion on Facebook.

SAMANTHA: Did we?

WALT: Yeah, you called me a “troglodyte, fundamentalist fascist.”

SAMANTHA: Did I? Well, I’m sure I was–

WALT: But you know what? Your scathing insult really opened my mind and made me rethink my whole position. I read a bunch of lengthy, well-researched articles on abortion, and now I’m one-hundred percent pro-choice.

SAMANTHA: You’re…you’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?

WALT: No, absolutely not. I mean, we conservatives are all about personal liberty and yet we want to use the power of the federal government to intervene in the most personal of all choices. (offers his hand) Thank you for elucidating this complex issue for me.

SAMANTHA (shaking his hand) Wow…I never converted anybody on Facebook before.

WALT: You were absolutely brilliant, Samantha.

SAMANTHA: It’s funny, I don’t even remember the argument.

WALT: Well, it started about gun control and then we veered into abortion.

SAMANTHA: Oh, you’re the guy!

WALT: You remember now?

SAMANTHA: Yeah, you called me a “dirty, gun-grabbing femi-Nazi.”

WALT: Did I?

SAMANTHA: But you know what? Your disparaging rant prompted me to explore a whole new approach to gun control. I did some research of my own, and I got to thinking. You know, we liberals distrust the government about everything and yet we are willing to grant it a monopoly on armed coercion. Well, not me anymore. My friends call me “Number 2” now because of my passionate support for the Second Amendment, and it’s all thanks to you…uh, what’s your name?

WALT: Walt, Walt DeBarres.

SAMANTHA: Samantha O’Claire.

WALT: Listen, Samantha, did I make any other arguments that seemed unfounded to you? Did I make any claims unsupported by pertinent data?

SAMANTHA: Well, now that you mention it, your opinion on raising the minimum wage was based on a faulty grasp of various indices of economic data. You know, I have a handy spreadsheet on my laptop that aggregates all the relevant information in a way that I think will illuminate the issue for you if you’re interested?

WALT: Absolutely.

SAMANTHA: But before I share that with you, did I make any other specious assertions in our Facebook argument?

WALT: Well, let’s see…You know, your view on rent control failed to take into account the depreciating property values rent control laws often cause as well as the general decline in available rentals for low income people such laws often bring about.

SAMANTHA: Do you have any credible statistics that might help me to gain a more nuanced comprehension of your perspective on rent control, Walt?

WALT: As a matter of fact I was just reviewing a detailed statistical analysis of the impact of rent control laws on rental markets in more than a dozen big cities by a group of respected economists from several major universities.

SAMANTHA: Wow, let’s dive into the numbers then!

WALT: Just a second. Not before you shed light on my faulty grasp of the data on raising the minimum wage. I can’t wait to have my preconceptions challenged.

SAMANTHA: Okay, but don’t think you’ll get out of debunking my superficial views on rent control with your statistical analysis.

WALT: (rising) You might poke holes in my analysis.

SAMANTHA: Oh, I doubt that.

WALT joins SAMANTHA at her table. They immediately begin focusing intently on SAMANTHA’S laptop screen.

BLACKOUT

Trump Demands Iraqis Pay for “All the Expensive Bombs We’ve Dropped on Them”

President Trump responded to the interim Iraqi Prime Minister’s insistence that all foreign troops leave his country by demanding that Iraqis pay for all the bombs the United States has dropped on their country in the nearly seventeen years of U.S. occupation since the March, 2003 invasion.

“We have dropped a lot of very expensive bombs on Iraq over the years,” Trump said Sunday, “and so far the Iraqis have contributed nothing.”

The president’s comments came in the wake of Iraqi Prime Minister Abel Abdul Mahdi’s statement that it was “time for American troops to leave” and Iraq’s parliament voting to support the expulsion of U.S. troops from the country on Sunday following the U.S. drone strike that killed Iranian leader Qasem Soleimani.

Trump, unmoved by the mere wishes of the elected representatives of Iraq, continued. “We’ve spent a lot of money in Iraq. Billions of dollars on a great big, beautiful airbase there. And they still haven’t paid us for the accommodations and services we provided at Abu Ghraib. The interrogators, the police dogs, the chemical light sticks we used to sodomize them, the hoods, the dog leashes we used to humiliate them. All that costs money, and we’re not going anywhere until they pay us back.”

Trump Supporters Ask “Who Do We Shoot?” After Trump Impeached

Supporters of President Trump who had warned of a civil war if he was impeached and boasted about their weapons collections are now wondering who they should kill and/or where they should report for civil war duty after the House voted to impeach the president Wednesday night.

Phil Jaworski, a Trump supporter from Chicago who claimed in an interview at a Trump rally in September that a civil war would occur if Trump was impeached, said he had called and emailed the White House but received no clear instructions on who to kill or where to report for civil war duty. “Maybe they’ll announce it on Fox but I haven’t yet been informed where my staging area will be for the civil war.”

In his September interview, Jaworski was cryptic about who or what would incite a civil war although he was certain it would happen. “There will be a lot of angry Trump supporters if the Deep State impeaches my president, and I’m not saying we will turn to violence, but…My AR-15 is locked and loaded if Democrats abuse the Constitution by using one of its provisions.”

Other Trump supporters are also anxiously awaiting marching orders for the coming civil war. Ann Clayton of Virginia Beach, Virginia, says she has spent thousands of dollars on firearms and donated generously to the NRA for decades. “If we don’t have a civil war now, what was the point of my scrimping and saving to stockpile guns all those years? I say we wait ’till after Christmas, but after that, it’s a full-on apocalyptic war against the godless liberals who would tear this country apart with their fancy laws and evidence.”

Militant Vegans Seize Steakhouses Throughout Country

A network of radical vegans has engaged in a widespread covert takeover of steakhouses throughout the country, drugging and indoctrinating owners and staff and transforming the restaurants into bastions of veganism.

Radical vegans seized this steakhouse in Vancouver, Washington and painted the iconic beef cow green.

In March of 2019, Margaret and Joseph Huddleston of White Plains, New York went to Ike’s Steakhouse for the Tuesday Night Prime Rib Special as they always did. They were presented with a new menu which featured vegan tri-tip, prime ribeye, filet minon, t-bone and porterhouse steaks. When they demanded to see the owner, Ike Ricci, he was brought out by unfamiliar servers in what they described as “a drug-induced stupor” and “flatly recited vegan philosophy as if by rote” before being dragged off by the servers.

The couple reported the incident to law enforcement authorities and a subsequent raid netted a high value vegan operative who has since flipped and provided an inside look at the nation-wide operation. The captive said that the taking of steakhouses, which he referred to as “carnivore cathedrals,” was an attempt to ignite the revolution against meat eating “from inside the belly of the beast.”

Authorities said that while some of the vegan bands that have commandeered steak houses have changed the menus and aggressively promoted vegan philosophy, others have simply served vegan steaks to unwitting customers with the hopes of quietly winning them over to meatless alternatives. Customers who suspect their steakhouse has been taken over by vegans are encouraged to contact local police or the USDA Special Investigations Unit.

Atrocities Escalating in the War on Christmas

A member of “Santa’s Seals.”

The early December massacre of eleven of Santa’s elves in the North Pole by secular progressives has brought the War on Christmas to a new level of brutality unthinkable a year ago when arguments over Starbucks’ holiday cups set the tenor of the conflict.

Conservative Christians are outraged by the killing of the elves, who were cheerfully working in Santa’s workshop when they were mercilessly butchered by members of the Saturnalia Brigade, an extremist band of secular progressives. The group issued a communique stating that “elves are not innocent victims in this war. They are conscious, willing agents of the dominant Christian hegemony that force us to endure the heinous yuletide spirit every year with all its oppressive music, decorations, nauseating eggnog beverages, electronic lawn reindeer and Mannheim Steamroller concerts.”

The group also decried the “Black ops” allegedly carried out by “Santa’s Seals,” a special forces-like unit thought to be responsible for the assassinations of atheist authors, debauched Hollywood leftists and Marxist professors who sneer at traditional Christmas celebrations and greetings.

The violence is not likely to decline any time soon. Santa Claus, operating from a secured, underground, North Pole bunker since the massacre, issued a statement saying, “We will never give in to terrorists. We are going to do whatever it takes to annihilate these savages. If that means bringing back waterboarding, we’ll do it, and a hell of a lot worse, believe me. We’ll take out their families if we have to. They will never stop me in my mission to deliver toys to all the children of the world.”

Confederate Monument to be Moved to Stephen Miller’s Bedroom

A memorial statue of Confederate General and early Ku Klux Klan member Lester Rochambeau Curtiss riding his horse over a naked, bound slave woman while pleasantly sipping a mint julep will be moved into the bedroom of Senior White House Advisor Stephen Miller.

The monument, which the city council had voted to remove from Caucasian Meadows Park in the town of Sundown, Tennessee, was to be put in storage while awaiting a private buyer, but an emotional Miller recently burst into a council meeting with a bag of cash and bought it outright. A contract was quickly drawn up arranging for the statue to be transported directly to his bedroom in the dead of night.

Miller’s impulse purchase is unlikely to improve his image with liberals, who have pointed to the recent exposure of his emails pushing Breitbart News Website to run stories based on White Supremacist sources and questioned why he would want the enormous bronze tribute to slavery in his bedchamber.

A spokesman for Miller said in a statement Friday that “Mr. Miller’s choice to place the statue in his bedroom was based simply on available space in his house, and his desire for the quiet contemplation of the monument in private. Rumors that the senior advisor enjoys ‘pleasuring himself while viewing Confederate monuments and wearing military costumes’ are a vicious fabrication of the hateful, radical Democrats consumed with tearing our great country apart.”

When asked if “tearing the country apart” wasn’t exactly what the Confederates were doing in instigating the Civil War, the spokesman said he “did not see the connection.”

Strain of Defending Chosen One’s Lies Taking Toll on God’s People

As the holidays approach many Evangelical Christians are dreading family gatherings where they may encounter unsaved family members or friends who fail to understand God’s plan to use President Trump, whose lies flow as freely as the bowel movements of a sick man who just ate a super burrito and a Triple Shot Espresso Frappuccino, as an instrument of his will.

Reverend Alec Vandever, who runs the spiritual counseling center at the Church of the Sanctified Redeemer, says he has seen an uptick in the number of people coming in concerned about their anti-Trump relatives demanding explanations for Trump’s false statements.

“They’re being hounded by their Marxist-secular-humanist relations about everything Trump has ever said,” Vandever claimed. “…Mexico paying for the wall, the wall being built, millions of illegal immigrants voting in 2016, Obama wire-tapping his campaign, saying that they were going to have health insurance for everybody, he didn’t know about the Stormy Daniels payoff, there was no quid pro quo, he didn’t direct Giuliani to investigate the Bidens in Ukraine, you name it…”

As the reverend spoke, several more uneasy church members filed into the center. “This really frosts me,” he said, gesturing to the new arrivals. “At a time when we’re all supposed to be sharing our gratitude and joy for the great things our country has to offer, these people are being persecuted for following God’s will. I mean, sure, if you look at Trump’s statements from a non-Biblical perspective, you’ll find that some of them are not, strictly speaking…you know, true. But as Christians, our task is not to use our fallible human minds to determine what is true and what is not, but rather to believe what another fallible human mind tells us is God’s plan, regardless if it changes from church to church, preacher to preacher and year to year. That’s not faith, that’s gullibility! No, I meant the other way around.”

Tanked Up God Tells Evangelicals to “Blow the ‘Cyrus Anointing’ Out Their Asses”

Jerry Falwell, Jr. is among the Evangelical preachers God is telling to “get the fuck out of here with that ‘Cyrus Anointing’ horseshit.”

I never expected to land an interview with God. He was in town for a book tour, signing copies of his motivational book My Journey Through Irritable Bowel Syndrome, a condition he says he just recovered from with a combination of mindfulness and careful dietary changes.

I was surprised to see how sparsely attended his book talk was, and the small crowd seemed to mute Jehovah’s enthusiasm for his subject. He blandly went through his gradual recovery from IBS, a condition that affects between 25 and 45 million Americans. While extolling the virtues of mindful eating and green leafy vegetables, the Supreme Being joked that paying too much attention to events on Earth had contributed greatly to his malady, eliciting a few titters from the audience.

When I approached him for an interview after his speech, he was unexpectedly delighted. He invited me to join him for a drink in the restaurant of his hotel, the Vagabond Inn, a 2 star facility across the street from the bus station. “The Vagabond’s all right,” he mumbled as we entered the dingy diner. “Seven bucks for a Caesar’s Salad and the martinis are cheap,” he said with a wan smile on his ancient face.

I was curious about what he thought about his most devout Evangelical followers’ fanatical support of President Trump, but initially he demurred. “Please, no, politics, all right? How do you think I beat IBS?” But after a couple of martinis, God abruptly became animated and turned back to the Evangelicals.

“That whole ‘Cyrus Anointing’ thing is a crock!” he blurted out, referring to the theory many Evangelicals embrace that God uses ungodly and immoral men for godly purposes. A multitude of preachers have recently alluded to the Biblical example of King Cyrus of Persia, a pagan and worldly man who freed the Jews from the Babylonian Captivity, to explain why God would use a man with absolutely no scruples like Donald Trump to carry out his will.

“The same hucksters who preach an absolute moral truth are now telling you that you can be the skankiest douchebag in the world as long as you carry out my supposed will,” the Lord almost shouted as he raised his hand to signal his readiness for another martini to the waitress. “A third grader could tell you they’re making an ends-justifies-the-means argument. They’re saying that I, God, am a moral relativist, a transactional deity that grants special permission to be a prick if you do my bidding. You can grab three pussies for every anti-abortion judge. You get to bang one porn star and pay her off for every statement about ‘religious freedom.’ You can tear a thousand immigrant families apart for every special favor to Evangelical Christians. You earn five racist tweets every time you wave the Bible around at your rallies.”

By now many of our fellow diners were glancing over at us. The waitress arrived with God’s third martini, and he snagged it greedily and took a generous sip. “The Cyrus Annointing…they can blow it out their asses. Listen, Cyrus was a pagan but he was also a brilliant empire builder, and he freed my people. And King David was a hound for sure, but he had a great military mind and man, could he play the lyre! But Trump is just a fucking scumbag. A fat, stupid, lazy son-of-a-bitch who would be hawking stereo components from the trunk of his car or timeshares somewhere if he hadn’t inherited hundreds of millions from his racist old man.”

God suddenly groaned and clutched his belly. “This is why I don’t like to talk about this…I shouldn’t have ordered this last martini, but…I can’t get through to them, the Trump people…the Reprehensibles…”

“The Deplorables,” I corrected him.

“Whatever,” he said, rising abruptly. “Look, I’ve got to stay mindful and do some self-care, all right? I shouldn’t have…Listen, have a good night…and read my book, okay? Your stomach will thank you.”

With that God turned and left the diner, still holding his abdomen and grimacing sadly.

You Can Beat the Black Death: Use the Power of Your Mind to Conquer the Deadliest Pandemic in Human History

An English Village in 1348. PETER, a peasant in his thirties is sitting by a well, reading a book. Suddenly, several panicked villagers, some with large bumps or boils on their faces, run past. NIGEL, another peasant in his thirties enters running.

PETER: Nigel, what’s going on?

NIGEL stops and doubles over, catching his breath.

NIGEL: The plague has struck the village!

PETER: Again?

NIGEL: It’s worse this time. There are bodies everywhere. The sick are covered with boils that ooze pus and blood.

PETER: Well, what do you expect, lemon custard and champagne? It’s the bloody plague.

NIGEL (standing up fully) I just don’t remember so much pus and blood the last round.

PETER: I mean, that’s one of the defining characteristics of the plague: boils or bubos in the groin, neck or armpits that ooze pus and blood.

NIGEL: Well, it’s gotten worse.

PETER: You know, you should really try to be more positive.

NIGEL: Positive? My mother just screamed, coughed up some blood and died in my arms.

PETER: Well, I’m sorry about your mother, but–

NIGEL: And you should have seen her boils.

PETER: Give us a rest on the boils, will you?

NIGEL: I’m just saying–

PETER: I know, lots of pus and blood.

NIGEL: You wouldn’t believe it.

PETER: Look, all I’m saying is maybe there’s a silver lining to this whole thing.

NIGEL: A silver lining?…to the bubonic plague?

PETER: (holding up book) I’ve been reading this book…

NIGEL: Book? It’s 1348. The printing press isn’t even invented yet.

PETER: It’s called Command Your Destiny. It says there are no accidents. Everything that happens to us is the direct result of our own thinking.

NIGEL: What?

PETER: It’s called the “Law of Attraction.” People and their thoughts are made of pure energy, and the energy we put out attracts more of the same kind of energy. So if we’re thinking negative thoughts–

NIGEL: Wait a minute, you’re saying half the world is covered with hideous, excruciating boils and dying horrible deaths because…they’re thinking negative thoughts?

PETER: (rising) Exactly!

NIGEL: You’re mad.

PETER: No, listen, there are two types of people in the world. Those who feel powerless and accept whatever happens to them passively and those who see adversity as an opportunity to unleash their unlimited power within. Which type of person do you want to be?

NIGEL: The type that doesn’t die covered with hideous boils lying in his own vomit.

PETER: Listen, Nigel, I’m telling you this is an opportunity! What do you think is going to happen in a month or two when half the peasants in the area are dead? The lords will be begging for labor, and we can write our own ticket! We can farm some land for ourselves and maybe even buy some! Then we can start a business, hire some people ourselves and become entrepreneurs.

NIGEL: I don’t know, that sounds pretty–

PETER: Remember, Nigel, you attract the kind of energy you put out. So if you’re thinking negative thoughts–

NIGEL: I’ll attract negative consequences.

PETER: Exactly.

NIGEL: Okay, so we hide out somewhere for a month or so, and then we come back and shake down the lords?

PETER: Now you’re thinking right!

NIGEL: This could be a whole new beginning for us. (coughs) No more bowing and scraping to the toffs. I’ll get hold of some land, take out a line of credit and start that tannery I’ve always dreamed of!

PETER: Nigel, you’re blossoming in front of my eyes!

NIGEL: Oh, I know some people think tanning is a filthy business, but I don’t care…(coughs) The beautiful and finely crafted leather products I make will be worth all the stench involved in treating animal hides with urine and pigeon shit…(putting his hand to his forehead) Boy, I feel warm all of a sudden…but let me tell you, I’ve got designs for leather jackets, clothing, saddles and accessories that’ll blow people’s minds…(coughs) And I’m going to make it happen! (feels his armpit) What’s this?…There’s…there’s a bump.

PETER: A bump?

NIGEL: (coughs) There’s a…bump in my armpit.

PETER: (stepping back) Listen, Nigel…I’ve…I’ve got to run.

NIGEL: What?

PETER: I, I have to go check on something.

NIGEL: But…(coughs) what about our plan to shake down the lords?

PETER: (moving away from him) Hold that thought.

NIGEL: Where are you going, you bastard? What about your positive thinking?

PETER: (exiting) Good luck, Nigel!

NIGEL: (coughs stronger) Okay, I’m embracing my inner power…putting out the positive energy…Nothing will stop me from achieving my goal. (coughs) The bubonic plague can’t defeat me!

He suddenly collapses.

BLACKOUT

Off the Deep State End (a Playlet about Your Fox News-Watching Uncle Phil)

The front yard of a middle class home. GLADYS, a woman in her sixties, is pruning flowers. HERB, an elderly mailman, enters with his mailbag.

HERB: Morning, Gladys.

GLADYS: Hi, Herb, how you doing?

HERB: Fine. Looks like it’s going to be a hot one.

GLADYS: Looks like it.

HERB pulls some mail out of his bag and offers it to to GLADYS. Just then, PHIL, GLADYS’ husband, also in his sixties, stalks out of the house with an AR-15 rifle pointed at HERB.

PHIL: All right, step back from the lady unless you want a new AR-15 ventilation system!

HERB raises his hands in the air and steps back.

GLADYS: Phil, what the hell are you doing?

PHIL: (approaching HERB cautiously) He’s an agent of the Deep State.

GLADYS: Deep State? It’s Herb, the mailman.

HERB: Phil, it’s me, Herb.

PHIL: Shut your mouth, you goddamned socialist!

GLADYS: He’s been delivering our mail for twenty years. What’s wrong with you?

HERB (offering PHIL an envelope) I’ve got your social security check here, Phil.

PHIL: You see that, Gladys? He’s Deep State all the way!

GLADYS: (to HERB) He’s been watching that Sean Hannity.

PHIL snatches the envelope from HERB.

PHIL: I don’t want your socialist hand-outs!

PHIL tears up the envelope and throws the pieces on the ground.

GLADYS: We need that money!

PHIL: We are rugged American individualists, Gladys! We will no longer participate in that utopian socialist Ponzi scheme.

HERB: Listen, Phil–

PHIL: Shut up, Herb! I don’t want any more of your goddamned socialist mail delivered here either. You tell your storm trooper buddies that will be the last letter they ever deliver.

GLADYS: Calm down, Phil. Remember Dr. Ghorbani said you shouldn’t do anything that raises your blood pressure.

PHIL: And that’s another thing. We are through with that Deep State boondoggle called Medicare! From now on, it’s home remedies and chicken soup around here.

GLADYS: You’ll be dead by the end of the month.

PHIL: Good, I’d rather be dead than a mindless, entitlement-sucking slave in the Deep State gulag.

HERB: Phil, don’t you think you’re being–

PHIL: Get off my property, you lazy bureaucrat! Unlike you, I worked for a living instead of sponging off the taxpayers all those years.

HERB: Sponging off the taxpayers?

PHIL: I worked hard, put myself through college–

GLADYS: With the help of the GI bill–

PHIL: Worked in the aerospace industry–

GLADYS: Which thrives on government contracts.

PHIL: I bought this house–

GLADYS: With a low interest, government-sponsored Fanny Mae loan.

PHIL: What is your point, Gladys?

GLADYS: My point is that if you really want to free yourself from the Deep State, you should give up your pension and your house because it’s all tainted with filthy, dirty Deep State government money.

PHIL: (looking ominously at GLADYS) Oh my God, Gladys…You’re…you’re…(an epiphany) You’re right…I’m Deep State.

PHIL stares at the ground and lowers his gun.

HERB: Take it easy, Phil.

PHIL: All these years I thought I was a bold Fox News freedom fighter, and in reality, I’m just another dupe in the socialist Deep State conspiracy.

GLADYS: Honey, we have some excellent counseling services available through our plan. Maybe we can–

PHIL: No, no, I don’t want some Ivy league commie shrink to brainwash me into being a compliant stooge of the Deep State.

HERB: I thought you said you were already a compliant stooge of the Deep State.

PHIL: (raising his gun) I said I was a dupe, not a stooge!

GLADYS: (trying to usher him back to the house) Honey, let’s get a nice cup of tea and–

PHIL: (pulling away from her) No, there’s only one thing for me to do…I’m going to turn myself in to Sean Hannity.

GLADYS: What?

PHIL: It’s the right thing to do.

GLADYS: But Phil–

PHIL: My mind’s made up, Gladys…

PHIL turns and goes back to the house, his head sagging in shame.

HERB: I thought he turned himself in to Sean Hannity last week.

BLACKOUT