Brothers and Sisters in Christ, the Prophet, Rastafari, Judaism and every faith whatever, before I begin today's sermon (formerly known as "column") I must explain: I'd picked up my King James Version, intending to continue the summation begun two years ago, on occasional Fridays, of the Book of Genesis in the voice of Kenrick, a kicks-man about our town, when, lo and behold, upon my touching the Holy Word of God, inshallah and alakazaam and hey presto and so on, Jesus Christ himself appeared before me and revealed the words below to me.
Well, truth be told, it could have been Brad Pitt in my vision–their beards are so similar–but I want to believe it was Jesus, because of the message; Brad Pitt never says anything radical. (Sean Penn, he ain't.) I'm really not sure if this was meant for me and not Bishop Harry Jackson, the black American preacher, famous for his "don't equate your sin with my skin" stance against gays but, whether sent by Brad Pitt or Jay Cee, I'm certain what follows is holy because I've pieced it together by taking words directly from religious leaders and rightwing activists.
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