Anti Donald Trump political humor and political satire by Paul Chasman

Saturday, March 27, 2004
Pat Robertson
CBN Partner Correspondence
977 Centerville Turnpike
Virginia Beach, Virginia 23463

Dear Pat Robertson,

I just read your beautiful and enlightening Frontlines brochure, and all I can say is, “Amen!”

The featured article starting on the front is called, “THEY MET GOD AND HE ISN’T ALLAH.” The miracles are--well--miraculous! There was Aris, the “devout Indonesian Muslim” whose wife was pregnant and in pain, and all of a sudden Jesus came into his heart and he layed his hands on her and she was healed! Amen!

Then there was Ki Kilomo who went on a pilgrimage to Mecca to seek Allah because she didn’t know any better because she was Nigerian, and when she was there, a voice spoke to her, “Pray in the name of Jesus,” and all kinds of wierd things happened, but she ended up serving Jesus in “holiness and righteousness and truth.” Amen!

I want to share with you the story of when Jesus came into my heart. When I was seventeen, I was a bad boy--I committed every sin in the book and nearly broke my poor parents’ hearts. One night, I found myself lying in a vacant lot, heaving my guts out after a wild party (I mixed my drinks--big mistake! Never mix your drinks!). Anyway, I was desperate and I reached out to the heavens and said, “Lord, if you let me live through this night, I promise I’ll never drink again!” And He spoke back to me. Do you know what He said? He said, “Bend over, sucker!”

Anyway, the next day I was still alive. Barely--but because I opened my heart to Jesus, He spared me. Praise the Lord. I bet you’re wondering if I kept my part of the bargain and never drank again. Well actually, sometime later, the Lord came to me again and told me it was ok to drink in moderation.

But here’s what I don’t get--last week, I went to my grandson Lester’s soccer game. You can imagine how nervous I was. I prayed and prayed that Lester’s team would win. The other team had three players named Hamid, Omar, and Jali. Right before the game started, Hamid, Omar, and Jali faced toward the east and knelt down with their noses on the ground and their butts up in the air the way they do, and chanted something in Arabic. Then they got up and they kicked the snot out of poor Lester’s team. All the way through the game I pleaded with Jesus to let little Lester win, but my prayers went unanswered. Go figure.

But all in all, I still think Jesus wins a lot more than Allah does. Just look around! America is a Christian Nation and we’re Number One on the entire planet! Nobody messes with us! And since we’ve overthrown Afghanistan and Iraq, we’ve lost around 600 soldiers (Christians), but nobody even knows how many of their guys have been killed (it’s a lot more than 600, but who’s counting? Also, a lot of those Iraqis weren’t Muslims--also, a lot of them weren’t soldiers--but let’s not get technical). Anyway, it proves my point that if we truly believe, God will answer our prayers and smite more of their guys than ours.

Praise the Lord!
Carl Estrada