Letters from Kamp Krusty

Pretty Much Explains It

So I had this one dream last week.  I mentioned it on my "Christian Radio" show.

I dreamt I was trapped in a local conglomo-church -- I wouldn't say which one -- in the big auditorium-thing, and I was trying to escape before the sermon.

I was mortified that I would be recognized from the stage, like, "Brant Hansen is here, everyone -- please stand up, Brant."  I could see the local Big Leader Guy coming up to speak, and I tried to leave without anyone noticing that Brant Hansen was leaving.

All the doors were locked around the room.  I got desperate -- there was one open!  It opened into a leafy neighborhood, and I was home free!  -- except I wasn't, because there were huge stone walls around the houses, which I found out were all owned by staff at the church.  I was forced to go back into the sanctuary.  I couldn't escape, and everyone was looking at me.

What did all this mean?

A lady called:  "You're obviously trying to run away from God."

"Well, I actually like God.  I was thinking maybe it was because I'm scared people will think I'm a freak when they find out I don't go to a traditional church-type thing.  I was thinking maybe it showed my fear that I'll be judged harshly, because I'm in the evangelical public eye, but I see things differently than many of our listeners do."

"Nope -- it just shows you're running away from God."

"Okay -- cool.  Thanks."

"No problem!"

Kamp Krusty Announces Plan to Return; World Announces Plan to Continue Not Reading It

Okay, I'm fixin' to start writing again.  I think.  I'm not sure how it's going to work, but I really miss it.  As I say, I spend a lot of time now with radio listener emails, and, like C.S. Lewis, I want to respond to each corresondent.

Also, like C.S. Lewis, I enjoy a good demolition derby.  So, as Lewis, Tolkien, and the Inklings often did, my church/community/whatever friends and I went to Bithlo, Florida, last night to watch stuff get blowed up.

It was quite a scene when we got there.  There was much drinking, smoking, and gambling.  Fortunately, the other spectators were okay with it.

And lo, "Flyin'" Jimmy Elvis didst jump his car over one mobile home, landing in another.  There ensued a high-speed boat-and-trailer race, barely visible through the particulate debris wafting from the track. 

And they did have the first-ever (we're pretty sure) "Motorcycle Demolition Derby."  We didn't know how this would actually shake out:  How could you do a motorcycle demo derby?  Well, turns out, it was exactly like the one with cars, except dumber. 

I'd describe it, but I'm still processing.

The yelling P.A. kept cutting out, so we were never sure how to respond to the P.A. guy.  "HOW MANY OF YOU ARE READY FOR SOME -- silence -- TONIGHT!!!!???"  --and we, as crowd, didn't know how to react  "TELL YOU WHAT, THAT LAST CRASH PROVES  -- silence -- AND -- silence -- SO LET'S -- silence -- FOR 'EM!"

The P.A. guy told us, before it started, that without soldiers, "WE WOULDN'T HAVE THE RIGHT TO EAT TURKEY AND WATCH STUFF CRASH HERE OR THE RIGHT TO -- silence -- OF AMERICA."  So they solemnly played a solemn song for the soldiers about this guy who's an American soldier.  It was called "I'm an American Soldier". 

And it was very solemn, but it kept cutting out, so the P.A. guy jumped in and said, "You get the idea." and then a Shriner did a wheelie on a golf cart. 

There were thousands there.  You can watch it on cable, on a show called "Carpocalypse" and some other show called "Carmaggeddon".  I'm not going to pretend I can write the "Chronicles of Carnia", so don't ask.