In which Tentacle Monster gets a fundie surprise

Some of you might find the term “fundie” offensive. To all offended: blow me.

So when I got back to my dorm today, there was something sitting on my refrigerator. It was dark, and when my eyes adjusted I saw… a batch of cookies! A nice little assortment, a sampler platter if you will; with oatmeal raisin, chocolate chip, double chocolate, and some others yet to be determined. It bore a sticker reading “Happy Holidays! From The Gunfighter Families.” Well, that was nice! I remember it happened last year, too, but I had just forgotten with all the other crap that’s happened since then. That gave me what amounts to a warm fuzzy.

That’s when I noticed the CD. Huh, I think, they’re going all out this year. What could it be?

The CD was titled The Real Deal, and the artist was apparently some guy named Dave Roever. Hm. Country music, perhaps? The cover art featured a set of desert camo gear, a guy with an, ahem, unusual profile, and a shadowy picture of a helmeted soldier. I don’t know what to make of this. Perhaps the back shall give a little more information. The back of the CD read:

It was once said, “The only thing needed to allow evil to flourish is for good men to do nothing.” Mm-hmm…

Far too many people in our world today would chose*(sic)*** the path of least resistance, ultimately plunging humanity into the abyss of moral depravity and destruction. September 11, 2001 will remain a turning point of decision for years to come.**
Crap. Where did I hear that before? Was it Pat Robertson, Pat Buchanan or Jerry Fartwell? Or all three of them?

I’m going to skip a couple of lines of this. You’re not missing much.

It is this resolve that calls our sons and daughters to be willing to pay the ultimate price of sacrifice to preserve civilization and human decency; that we may live in the moral refuge we call freedom.
Moral refuge? What the fuck, sir?

It is to you, the best and bravest serving in the United States Armed Forces and those who are willing to stand and fight along side*(sic)*** you that I dedicate this CD.** Thanks, but no thanks.

From the battle fields of by-gone times to the jungles of Vietnam and now the deserts of Arabia and conflicts yet unknown, there remains a continuous strand of dedication to the call of freedom, life and liberty. On behalf of many grateful citizens and patriots, thank you for your commitment to truth and justice; thank you for your service.
I don’t know what to say.

Apparently, this CD was made possible by the Roever Evangelistc Association. Oh, and he has a website! I point Firefox to www.daveroever.org. (According to the About Us section, he was burned by a phosphorous grenade; so I will not comment on his appearance.) The mission statement is a little scary, but overall he doesn’t seem all that bad.

Then again, I haven’t listened to the CD yet. Not sure that I will.

I would have put this in the Pit, but the cookies are delicious.

I don’t know how bad a phosphorus grenade can be, but just on a guess I’d say he got lucky. He doesn’t look too bad.

Who are the “Gunfighter families” that leave you cookies? Relatives of a roommate?

Hey, if the cookies are good enough, listening once to a CD should be a fair trade, even if it’s not very good, right?

It’s not like it’s Celine Dion or anything. :wink:

The cookies were not from me. I practice “Random Acts of Cookies” Day, but I don’t leave CDs with them.

Hope they were yummy.

Enlisted members’ spouses. Probably nobody I know. They work with the people who have keys to our rooms to give us the cookies.

Oatmeal raisin? Ick. I hate raisins.

I’m not too fond of drive-by fundies, either, but the raisins bugged me more. :slight_smile:

I remember this Roever guy very well–he spoke at my high school gym years ago, probably around 1990. It was the usual evening o’ evangelism, complete with the come-on-down-and-get-saved bit at the end.

I was going through one of my religious phases at the time (I had a few), and I thought it was pretty cool. I’m certain I’d have no such opinion now.

That made me click the link.

Cookies from zealots is a bit creepy. I would be put off by the assumption that you shared their beliefs.

However, I’d probably eat the cookies. I’m a hypocrit, especially regarding food.

Someone with a key let these people into your dorm room? That is outrageous!

You should be able to run this for all the cookies you want for the rest of your college life.

Jesus, why does everyone think I’ve been in/am in college?

Zoe, I’m talking about a military dorm. Anyone important enough can get access to all the dorm rooms, and they’re regularly inspected. See also: the comments on the back of the CD.

Although it would be nice to have a college life someday.

Eat the cookies, but don’t drink the Kool-Aid.

Seriously… food was left on your (metaphorical) doorstep by a complete (and somewhat weird) stranger… and you ate it?

He’s in the Armed Forces, and he got cookies from the soldiers’ families. What’s suspicious about that?

They think you’re in college because most military people say “barracks.” Obviously, you’re Air Force.

Eat the cookies and toss the CD. You’re under no obligation to listen to it.

I don’t know. Being exposed to stuff like that is usually enough to make me want to toss my cookies!

Those weren’t cookies—they were communion wafers! Now you’re Catholic!

Bwa-hahahahaha!

Fundie Surprise? Is that when Jesus jumps out of the cake at a Church Anniversary?

:smiley:

Am I the only person to open the thread thinking a ‘fundie suprise’ would be something along the lines of a ‘dirty Sanchez’?

My prediction on the record: “inspirational” material. But the cookies are probably much more inspirational. Use the CD itself as a festive ornament.
Eve, no, the Death Cookie would be if they left a stack of Jack Chick tracts.

The zoomies definitely need to get themselves a butchier word for their living quarters. Then again, when you get stations in places like Mountain Home, Idaho, or Minot, ND, they probably feel they need prove nothing to the very annoyed (and it does annoy them, to hear “dorm”) groundpounders.