A Televangelist Sucked My Blood

Today I went to give blood. It’s the first time I’ve actually done this. I went once before, but I’d recently been tattooed and they told me that I was high risk for Hepatitis as a result. That scared the crap out of me and for months I walked around convinced that I was a male Pamela Anderson. Anyway, everything was fine today so I was able to lie on the little couch thing and look on as my vital fluid flowed viscously into a pint bag.

There was a tiny television in the bloodletting room, where I lay helpless. The actual removal of my blood was painless and, in fact, had a slightly narcotic effect on me (you know I love altered states of mind). The real pain came from the unmitigated insanity blaring out at me from the television.

When I sit in front of the tube, I don’t usually choose to watch the Trinity Broadcasting Network. In fact, I watch very little television these days. However, on the odd occasion, I’d be flicking through the channels and come upon the unhinged lady whose evidently muscular neck supports a mountain of cotton-candy-pink hair. The one who prays and then cries, and then cries and prays at the same time before telling you to send her some of your money. You know the one: she has claws. I like her. Whenever I see her, I close my eyes and think of Sally Struthers hauling her overweight carcass around impoverished third world villages begging us to sponsor a child. I find the whole thing callously and unabashedly amusing. Seriously, who is this woman’s key demographic? Dancehall queens from Kingston, Jamaica? Female clowns (clownesses)?

Alternatively, I sometimes find myself drawn to Paula White. On my list of people I’d like to meet before I kick the bucket, Paula White ranks really high. This woman’s fervour and sheer charismatic faith infects me the way very few ideologies or philosophies have ever done. I find myself pausing on TBN whenever I see her and looking at her for extended periods while actively listening to her testimonies and sermons. Her personality blasts every other televangelist out of the holy water. She possesses an extraordinary amount of energy for someone so petite and compact.

In addition to this, I get a very real sense that this woman believes everything she’s telling us. Many other televangelists strike me as charlatans out to make a quick buck, praying on people’s fears and ignorance. Paula White, on the other hand, convinces me that her belief comes from a very real place within her. I will always respect that.

Of course, I could just like Paula because she reminds me of a morphed twinning of Rowan Mayfair’s (from Anne Rice’s Mayfair Witch series) physical features and Dora’s (from Anne Rice’s Memnoch the Devil) Christian zealotry. Whatever. The point is that neither Weepy McPinkhair nor Paula Angelica was on TBN during my Thurday morning blood bath. No, the person I had to lie there and listen to for fifteen excruciating minutes was some good ol’ boy, war-mongering crackpot called John Hagee.

I never knew of John Hagee’s existence until this morning. Apparently, he’s quite famous, though, since Empath knew exactly who I was talking about when I ranted and raved at her later on in the day. He endorsed John McCain’s presidency. What a recommendation.

To begin with, anyone who pronounces Iran as Eye-Ran is immediately placed in the little cubbyhole in my brain reserved for the truly unaware. I almost expected the guy to produce Ned Beatty from thin air and admonish him to squeal like a pig, like that disturbing rape scene from Deliverance.

For what seemed like an eon, John Hagee expounded on an imminent Armageddon born of his own clearly violent mind. His glaringly obvious ploy – using shock and paranoia as tools in religious conversion – made me irrationally angry. Everything about this guy seemed like a stereotype. Perhaps I’ve been living under a rock (we know I’m living ON a rock, but perhaps I’m also under a rock… between a rock and a hard place possibly… or something), but didn’t the Hellfire, Brimstone and Eternal Damnation brand of religion fade with the last relics of the Catholic inquisitions of the Middle Ages before finally dying an agonizing death during the great American Depression?

Forgive me if I’m sorely misinformed. I was raised Roman Catholic, you see, and my church was more into spiritually uplifting songs and embarrassing confessions than anything else. Speaking of which, it appears that John Hagee isn’t too terribly fond of the Catholic Church. That’s nothing new, though. Many of the other Christian religions seem to have forgotten that the roots of modern Christianity are buried deep within the Vatican.

To return to John Hagee, this is a man – a Christian leader – who not only endorses, but seems to be trying to vigorously instigate preemptive military strikes against those nations that, in his view, embody the end of days prophecies of Revelations. You see why I call him a war-monger? He doesn’t just suggest that America prepare herself for defense; he wants the world to systematically destroy any nation that he feels opposes Christian principles. He routinely misquotes Islamic scripture to paint Muslims in the worst possible light. Oh yeah, he also thinks that the head of the UN is the antichrist. Huh? You also need to read why he thinks Hurricane Katrina’s devastation was divine retribution on New Orleans. Trust me, it’s laughable and wildly irrational.

And this man’s ill-logic is what I had to suffer through while giving blood this morning. I kept stewpsing my teeth and groaning. I think the Sister in charge must’ve thought I was slightly touched. I also kept clenching my fists, which made the blood flow very quickly.

I suppose I could’ve asked the Sister to switch the channel or turn the bloody tv off or something, but the truth is that I was gripped. This is the first time I’ve ever experienced such a hateful, insular form of evangelism; outside of fiction I mean. It scared me, amused me and enraged me all at the same time. I have an unusual penchant for listening to fools and boors. I think I may have to seek out John Hagee’s harangues for future study.