Yeah, Thanks for all the posts and condolences. I’ve had a few days and gotten over it. It still upsets me to see unpleasantness like that, but he really isn’t important. Let’s just never forget how unimportant he is. 
I agree that the approach to take is to make him the object of laughter. He couldn’t possibly be for real right? Think of some mass murderers - Tim McVeigh and Ted Bundy - and yet Fred Phelps spends his time decrying the “evil” Fred Rogers and Matthew Shepherd.
What a whacko.
It must be 'cause of that time when he was a sniper in the Army in Vietnam.*
Someone should write their dissertation on the Phelpsoi; it would make a fascinating sociological study.
*
Well, at least he’s a family man.:rolleyes:
"A mattock is a pick-hoe using a wooden handle heavier than a bat. Fred swung it with both hands like a ballplayer and with all his might. “The first blow stunned your whole body,” says Mark. "By the third blow, your backside was so tender, even the lightest strike was agonizing, but he’d still hit you like he wanted to put it over the fence. By 20, though, you’d have grown numb with pain. That was when my father would quit and start on my brother. Later, when the feeling had returned and it hurt worse than before, he’d do it again. "After 40 strokes, I was weak and nauseous and very pale. My body hurt terribly. Then it was Nate’s turn. He got 40 each time. “I staggered to the bathtub where my mom was wetting a towel to swab my face. Behind me, I could hear the mattock and my brother was choking and moaning. He was crying and he wouldn’t stop.” The voice in the phone halts. After an awkward moment, clearing of throats, it continues: "Then I heard my father shouting my name. My mom was right there, but she wouldn’t help me. It hurt so badly during the third beating that I kept wanting to drop so he would hit me in the head. I was hoping I’d be knocked out, or killed…anything to end the pain. “After that…it was waiting that was terrible. You didn’t know if, when he was done with Nate, he’d hurt you again. I was shaking in a cold panic. Twenty-five years since it happened, and the same sick feeling in my stomach comes back now…” "
"Sometimes Pastor Phelps preferred to grab one child by their little hands and haul them into the air. Then he would repeatedly smash his knee into their groin and stomach while walking across the room and laughing. The boys remember this happening to Nate when he was only seven, and to Margie and Kathy even after they were sexually developed teenagers. Nate recalls being taken into the church once where his father, a former golden gloves boxer, bent him backwards over a pew, body-punched him, spit in his face, and told him he hated him. Mark’s very first memory in this life is an emotional scar: their mom had gone to the hospital to give birth to Jonathon. Mark remembers being very upset, since now they would be alone in the house with their father, his threatening presence left unmitigated by her maternal concern. Though only five, already Mark could use the phone and, one day while his father was out he dialed the number she’d left. "
"“Sometimes, after he’d get done beating her, he’d have forgotten about the kid. Sometimes he’d go back to the kids and beat even harder. Then he’d blame the kid for what had happened.” The phone line falls silent. “Out in public,” recalls Nate, “she wore sunglasses a lot.” Mrs. Phelps was beaten even when she wasn’t interfering. After Nate and Kathy, the boys figure their mom was victimized the most. They remember their father finishing one session by throwing her down the stairs from the second floor. “It had 16 steps,” says Mark. “And no rail,” continues Nate. “Mom grabbed at the stairs going over and tore the ligaments and cartilage in her right shoulder. The doctor said she needed surgery, but my father refused. We had no medical insurance back then. She’s had a bad shoulder ever since. My father often chose that same shoulder to re-injure when he was beating mom. He’d grab her right arm and jerk it. She’d yelp.” The voice in the phone sighs: “But…I guess I do still feel that very deeply…that she betrayed a gut, primitive bond when she drove off and left me. I do love my mom. But I wish she’d put a stop to it. She could have and she didn’t.” Pastor Phelps denies beating his children or his wife. “Hardly a word of truth to that stuff. You know, it’s amazing to me that even one of them stayed.” He grins, referring to the nine daughters and sons who remain loyal to him. "
It’s good to know that Phred is truly insane, which helps to explain his terrible website.
But frankly I wish all the publicity would just stop. I wish the entire world would treat him and his gang as if they were invisible and inaudible, and never mention them again. He thrives on the publicity, of course, and I’m sure he loves all the news stories about him. For a garden-variety nutcase, he gets more attention than he deserves, which is none (except that anyone witnessing him physically abuse someone, ought to call the cops.)
I don’t wish him death, if only because that’s against the rules, but the world will be a happier place when that pathetic excuse for a human just drops dead one day. Apparently only death will silence his ravings, so I very much look forward to his death. How long can it be?
Maybe I’ll set up a web counter. “Fred Phelps has been cheating death for 38,429 days” with a little graphic of the rest of humanity screaming in pain.
Maybe we could have some cheap fun with this guy’s name.
After Sept 11th, I decided to mess around with Osama Bin Laden’s name and came up with the anagram:
A Lesbian Nomad
Not that I was demeaning lesbians. I just thought it was fun to think this Islamic nutcase had a name that scrambled into something antithetical to the faith. Also it’s nice that the word “nomad” is applicable.
Well I arrived at that just messing around with pen and paper.
I should have realized this is the Internet Age. You can find a LOT of online programs for making anagrams out of words, people’s names, etc. Here is probably one of the best:
http://www.wordsmith.org/anagram/
Just fooling around with it for a little while I converted
"Pastor Fred Phelps" into
“Prods The Flappers” and
"Helps Prep Fat Rods"
So, maybe some other clever folks can come up with an “interesting” variation on the name of this homegrown nutcase.
Remember, you could also use Reverend Fred Phelps and maybe his full first name (Alfred ?? Frederick ?? Alfreda ?? LOL)
This is strictly for fun. No prizes will be awarded. The decision of the judges is final. In case of duplicate entries, everyone wins. So you don’t forget, play the game before midnight Nov 30th, 2057. Members of the Phelps family, Phelps’ Amalgamated Insanity International, the Phelps’ Divine Ministry / All Night Car Wash are not eligible. Oh what the heck, it would be great if they could participate - yeah they are eligilbe too.
Okay, I’m looking forward to your anagrams.
I have something that will make anyone in the anti-Fred Phelps camp (ie: carbon based? You’re in) feel better. Read what Michael Moore did to annoy the H-E-double hockey sticks out of ole’ Freddie. Basically, Moore loaded a pink bus up with some of those people that Phelps seems so threatened by, and crashed a few of Phelps’ “demonstrations.”
Say what you will about Michael Moore being an obnoxious publicity hound, but DAMN, seeing the look Phelps’ face when Moore’s gang arrives at the SECOND demonstration is soul-satistifying.
If God hates the fags so much, Fred, then why does he keep creating so many of them?
Hello again,
I think I’ve figured a nice anagram:
Pastor Fred Phelps transforms into:
Dr Sappho’s Pert Elf
Okay at first it might not seem that great but think about it. Maybe Sappho did have a doctorate or a medical degree.
And the image of Fred being her “pert elf” is kind of cute huh?
And what irony that his name contains the name of a rather legendary female of an alternative sexual lifestyle. Gee, hope Fred finds out!! I bet he’ll be happy to hear that his name contains yet another famous name !!
Here, torie, here’s a link that will put it all in perspective.
Awesome reveleation, wolf! 
Why is this man here? Can’t we just shut him into a closet for a long, long time? Oops! Then he’d have to come out of the closet and he hates that kind of thing… silly me.
Thanks bughunter !!!