…or should I say, satAnn?

I open up Ann Coulter’s Twitter page after seeing her response to this CNN anchor getting fired, and, oh my, look what her number of followers happens to be:

Freakish coincidence? Or mark of the beast?

Oh, I do have real nightmares. Only they occur when I’m awake.

Ever see the documentary Jesus Camp when it came out in 2006?
Real fucked up. All about Fundies whisking away a bunch of impressionable youths to a summer camp and washing them up and down with a bunch of Jesus and brimstone and such.

There’s this one part in the film where this very large man with a weird, raspy voice comes in and starts speaking to a room full of the kids. Does a breakdown of pro-life tenants in kiddie terms. It is what it is.

But the part that fucked with me was when he starts ripping off pieces of red duct tape and putting them over the kids mouths, then writing “LIFE” on each one in sharpie. It spoke to something down inside of me. And not in a good way.

Here’s the guy:

Bald one with the mustache.

As I was working at a cafe this morning, writing a story for my work blog account, I looked up and saw him sitting at the table adjacent to mine, speaking with two young proteges. One of them was preoccupied with business-type stuff – on the phone while simultaneously pecking away at an iPad – while the other one seemed to be keeping Mr. Lou Engle (bald, scary man) busy, almost placating him, by talking about different verses in scripture that were his favorite.

Young Asian Protege #1: “Daniel 27:17, goodness I love that.”

Engle: “Amen. Amen.”

Scariest part about the whole thing was watching Engle. He was literally rocking back and forth the entire time, as if he didn’t have an outlet to expend his energy. Think “autistic Jerry Falwell”, except with less hair and in much better shape.

I didn’t do anything. Didn’t ask him if he was who I thought he was (“Are you that nutjob that duct taped kids faces in that Jesus flick?”). Most I could do was update my facebook and return to writing my story.

I think they’re planning some sort of D.C. march, or organized group meeting, or something. I overheard the iPad guy talking about it some.

Surreal.

Perspective?

Watched a girl sob for two hours in front of her professor at a cafe today. Discussion of a paper the kid probably failed – it was marked to shit with red pen.

Made me think.

A) No professor on earth has ever spent two hours of their time with me outside of a lecture hall.

B) Remember when grades were the things that mattered to us? I don’t.

I wanted to tell her to cherish this time in her life, where the only things that mattered were grades, beer money, the possibility of getting laid. Though I don’t think that would have fit in to the conversation they were having.