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Waves of Weirdness - Savin' Souls with Reverend Doc Fish
By Reverend Doc Fish
Oct 19, 2003, 11:37

Being the head honcho of anything that involves a group of people larger than, say, two, can make a person susceptible to all kind of brainwave distortions, and it seems the longer you’re in charge, and the bigger the group, the bigger these brain palpitations can be. It’s a chronic condition, and there aren’t any antibodies in the immune system strong enough to kill the thing before it gets out of hand.

Give it UP already! The Almighty tells His Popedness to scribble his signature on release papers to "Vatican Acres" nursing home.

Seems the worst of the warping happens in religious groups; brothers Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson say the Almighty wants them to lobby for the Lord, particularly at a federal anti-homo level, Reverend Sun Myung Moon is more or less convinced he’s either the Messiah or the world’s supreme matchmaker, and the pope is, well, getting messages from God about some of the fine print in his retirement package.

I called an emergency meeting of the First Church of The Holy Fish high council, which includes all deacons (Larry), officers (Sister Delores) and security personnel (ApostleBob®) a couple of days ago to discuss my own vulnerability to Brain Wave Distortion. They ambled into the Holy Tabernacle and Recreation Hall here at the South Florida compound, and seeing as this was the first official meeting I’d called since last spring when we met to discuss the merits of adding automatic tire slashers at the compound’s security gate, they were concerned enough to forgo the usual opening arguments of who was supposed to bring the minutes of that last get-together.

“Brothers and sisters,” I began, “I asked you here to talk about the future of the ministry and possible emergency actions in the case of my mental demise.”

“Oh, Reverend,” said Sister Delores, “don’t tell me your first wife’s filed for another alimony increase. How’s she find you this time?”

“No, nothing that bad,” I said. “I just wanna make sure you all know what to do in case I start babbling about The Great Creator telling to run for County Assemblyman or Sprinkler Inspector or something.”

“You can’t tell the Almighty ‘no’ when He tells you what He wants, Rev," said Deacon Larry. “If it’s His will that you inspect sprinklers, then we’re all behind you.”

“Larry, the Almighty hasn’t been talking to me. If I tell you He has, though, you folks gotta take action. Truth is, I think He’s told all of us everything He has to say, and He probably isn’t the type that likes to repeat Himself.”

ApostleBob® looked at me through squinting eyes. “You got something you ain’t tellin’ us, Rev?”

I’d seen that look on ApostleBob®’s face before, and it’s usually followed by a brief outburst of attack reflexes usually seen only in packs of wild boars. Bob’s devotion to me is unbending, which means he’d probably end up springing on Deacon Larry, just on “smelling fear” reflexes.

“Yeah,” I said. “The other night I had a vision, and the vision revealed that Cincinnati was gonna win the Final Four in the NCAA this year.”

“HALLELUJUH!” screamed Deacon Larry. “The Lord’s chosen you as His vessel for men’s basketball! You’re a prophet, Rev!”

“Larry,” I said. “The Almighty didn’t tell me anything. If anyone was talking to me, it was the guys at Domino’s that put the extra peppers on my deep-dish special that night.” Just the same, I’d made a substantial futures investment, at very good odds, with a man I know only as ‘Vince’ on the outside chance that the Domino’s ingredients know something I didn’t. The point is, for a minute I actually believed the Great Creator had spoken to me about the Final Four. That is NOT a good sign.

Is it possible the Lord is speaking to you through take-out or delivery?

We all agreed that, even though the possibility of God telling me the Bearcats would go all the way was probably more feasible than Him telling the pope to hang in there until he couldn’t suck purified peas through his feeding tube any more, claiming first-hand conversations with the Almighty about who to vote for, or what laws to push, or anything else outside of carrying the cross is pretty much a sign of Brain Wave Disorder, and remedial action should be taken immediately.

The meeting broke up with a general consensus that, in the event I start claiming God’s telling me to do anything other than what’s in the Holy Instruction Manual, they’d dismantle the ministry immediately and find me a comfortable room at nearby Century Village, complete with 24/7 observation. When you hold a position that involves people taking you seriously, you need some serious safeguards against them getting caught in the undertow of your own faulty brainwaves.

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