I have GOT to tell you about my experience at ETWN. I cannot believe those people call themselves Catholic. They are so far from the spirit of CHURCH it isn’t even funny. It is honestly sad, in fact.
First, a sad, sad tale of many sister trees, martyrs for a wasted cause.
Here’s the story: the sadly constricted Sister who was assigned to guard me was so nice at first. She seemed genuinely interested in reading the tracts, and even volunteered to put them up on the website marketplace. It was a HUGE mistake to surrender both suitcases! I have learned my lesson. I thought, until recently, I had gotten them back, but in fact, didn’t. They returned the suitcases to me, full of horrible, evil booklets by Mother Angelica. Talk about medieval! That woman is truly Spanish Inquisition leftovers! I just get nauseous when I think about the TREES that were sacrificed to print RUBBISH like this! And what did they do with my Chick tracts? Do they have ANY idea of the number of banners I had to sell to purchase them? Not to mention the ACCORDIAN MARATHON I did… 48 hours non stop on a street corner. My fingers were bloody by the time I finished. Oh, how sad! And now, what do I do with these ANTIQUATED and ARCHAIC booklets? I have TOTAL respect for the trees from which they came … and I just can’t ignore their spirits and burn them (oh, shutter!). But what DO I DO WITH TWO SUITCASES OF THIS NONSENSE?
I’m sure you’re all wondering how I got out. Well, the Sister was cordial, at least. They would NOT give me herbal teas, however, and had NOTHING organic to offer. I was just a little hungry when Todd & Eugene finally rescued me. Thankfully, they had come stocked with plenty of tofu “treats.” Thanks, guys!
Well, after they claimed to have burned my tracts (I still don’t believe they could be so inhumane), I refused to leave until they returned them to me. We seemed to have hit a stale-mate until I got the brilliant idea to sing. So, I began walking around the studio singing every verse of Kumbaya, Like a Sunflower and I want to Teach the World to Sing. And other wonderful hymns. It wasn’t long before they were offering to buy me a bus ticket. I refused, and kept singing. Soon, they were offering a train ticket. I still insisted on getting my tracts back. Soon, they were demanding I allow them to buy me a plane ticket. It was about then that Todd & Eugene came. They had my suitcases ready to go, and we went on our way. Unfortunately, I didn’t check the contents of the suitcases until later. I still cry when I see the antediluvian literature I’m stuck with.
I’m open to any orthodox idea of what to do with these things. HELP, someone!
Oh, and until Todd, Eugene & I have a better sense of what's happening, I am refusing to step food on Parish grounds. WHERE IS TIM?? You have Todd's phone #, Father, so let us know what you want!