A young girl is sued because she witnessed to her young friend. A humorous story that drives home the vital Biblical truth that Jesus is the only way to heaven. A powerful salvation story.
Good morning, the worm, your honor. The Crown will plainly show the prisoner who now stands before you was caught red-handed saying “Jesus”, saying “Jesus” in an almost Lutheran nature. This will not do!
This severely stretches the definition of “humorous”. Unless the humor is ironic, this is about as funny as falling nude down a five-mile-long sheet of sandpaper and landing in a kiddie pool filled with lemon juice and soy sauce, all the while having racist jokes barked at you from some disembodied voice.
This has got to be one of the worst Chick Tracts ever, for reasons which will soon become apparent.
Also: Uh, can you even sue a minor?
“Ooooh, work out room is right over there. Look at that ass. I think I’m gonna like it in here.”
Hey wait — I thought this was a civil suit.
She has a tiny, half-disappearing swing set mounted to the base of her skull.
Nice shirt. Mickey Mouse, meet Icky Mouse.
“Why, that just gives me ape-like, knuckle-dragging arms, drops my coffee cup to the floor, explodes the back of my skull and Dilbert’s-Bosses my hair!”
But wait — there’s more!
Oh, ha-hah! How absolutely droll! ACLQ. Social commentary, meet thy master: Jack T. Chick!
I guess ol’ Jack isn’t aware of the numerous fucking cases where the ACLU has defended religious organizations against oppression and discrimination. Though, I guess some of those include non-fundie religions, so I guess it doesn’t count. Oh, that’s right, I forgot: Defending others’ freedom in the same way equals persecution!
What in shit does the ‘Q’ stand for, anyway? American Civil Liberties Quorum? Quantum? Quota? Quixote? Quail? Quentin? Qualification? Quark? Quartz? Queef? Qatar? Q-Bert?
“Yes… you DO have a case! There’s no such thing as the First Amendment! If there is, the ACLU… or, I’m sorry — Q… has certainly never heard of it. Free speech? Freedom of religion? Preposterous!”
Danny DeVito, Attorney at Law.
This is only the second panel — only the second one! — and I’m already feeling my resolve fail.
… Christ on a poodle, what is this shit? “[I]nfamous”? “[M]ajor hate crime”? Since when has anyone, ever, in the history of mankind, considered someone telling someone else, “you know, Jesus is the only way into heaven” a hate crime? And since when would a whole community give a shit about a person telling another person about Jesus? Now, if she was kicking the shit out of the other little girl, saying “you fucking heathen, how dare you not believe in Jesus?” then I could consider it a religiously-motivated hate crime. But… gyah, seriously. Where but within Chick’s ass, my friends? Where but within Chick’s ass?
The African guy on the right seems really startled that the kid in front of him is licking him. Apparently that’s a flavored boubou.
What exactly is speaking in the panel on the right? A plucked but uncooked chicken? An oversized marshmallow? Some kind of large, deformed egg?
“Your hateful words have inflamed the ENTIRE community! We’re all swollen and throbbing!”
Oh, come on. Just… just no.
How come so much of Chick’s point in a lot of these kid-type Tracts relies on the protagonist being a grotesquely adorable little girl completely on her own, and on practically everyone else in the world being completely and irrationally hostile toward her? I mean, sure, these fictional non-Christians Jack fabricated entirely from straw are all really mean, but what about real people, in real life? How does this work of complete fiction apply to reality, considering the behaviors of the people in this Tract are such obviously inaccurate depictions of real people? Is it all supposed to be some kind of metaphor, or…?
Everyone loves to watch the Channel 6 Shrill Harpy News.
You know, I kind of agree with this woman, but I don’t think it’s anything to get so appalled over. This is again the whole “God is a mystery and works in mysterious ways; at the same time I totally understand his will” thing. You can’t have it both ways, people. I mean, it’s not something I’m personally offended by or anything, but I find it entirely logically inconsistent. “I, a mere mortal with a severely limited understanding of my own mental workings, let alone my surroundings, speak with complete clarity for God, a reportedly omniscient, omnipotent being with a boundless mind I could not possibly fathom”.
It’s real easy… want some of my… cookie. What? God wants little girls to share their cookies with bitchy newscasters? Or… I… don’t… what? “I speak for God — please, take my cookie.”
From the looks of her lip and cheeks, I think she’s chewing tobacco. “This is going to be a rough trial, but eh — I can Cope.” (Sorry, sorry, sorry…)
Wait, that’s not Danny DeVito, it’s a morbidly obese, mustachioed, super-Jewified Verne Troyer.
I wonder if “dress for a funeral” was part of the lawyer’s advice.
Brainwashing, pfft. Does Chick really think people act and think like this? And does he even know what brainwashing is? Brainwashing is far more systemic and organized than “hey, did you know that Jesus died for your sins?”
Here’s something funny, by the way. They set this up with “my daughter was BRAINWASHED”, but later… well, you’ll see, I don’t want to give away any spoilers.
*sigh* This is destroying my will to live. I think this Tract may very well be the Anti-Life Equation. Better hope Darkseid never strolls past the fundie group on a college campus, or through the subway transfer at Times Square.
Nobody thinks the Bible is “hate speech”, Jack. It’s stuff like “all fags go to hell” (which, might I note, isn’t in the Bible, and only a few vague implications — none by Jesus — even bear any mention of homosexuality) that people usually take issue with.
Also, nobody gives a shit about the “Jesus is the only way” stuff. Only the most psychotic dickbag religious nuts are going to sue other religious nuts over stuff like “nuh-UH! Jesus isn’t the only way!” Only the most idiotic of lawyers would take the case. And it’s pretty much a guarantee that every judge will throw the case out the second he or she hears about it. So, uh… no.
Behind the lawyer in panel one appears to be the Little Lad Who Loves Berries and Cream. Off to the right is Chewbacca, and over on the far right is Lore Fitzgerald Sjöberg.
Father Butch Hardbeef.
I have no idea what the priest is trying to say. I mean, I can vaguely understand the general intention of his words, but it seems like such a non-sequitur that I can’t quite parse its relevant meaning. I’m also not sure why he seems to have two enormous hard-bristled hair brushes on either side of his head.
Usually, Jack’s speech bubbles are all over the place, pointing to locations on the body several parts away from the mouth. But here, this is just getting too close.
You could cook a steak with a clothes iron on that grizzly, horrible face of his. Perhaps someone already has.
Ha-HAH! She sure showed him! Owned, bitches. Owned.
GASP! You mean to say, Jack, that Catholics have a specific, contradictory interpretation of what the Bible really means? SWEET HOT DAMN, I AIN’T NEVER HEARD THAT ONE BEFORE. (Note: I’ll be getting to some of the anti-Catholic Tracts soon, and I have someone lined up to start working on the Alberto comics, which should be coming in the relatively near future.)
Wow, one little girl’s statement about Jesus being the only way to heaven — and apparently she was the first to ever utter it, given this response — “destroys” Islam. …how, again? Do certain Islamic statements about entry to the afterlife “destroy” Christianity? Or…? How does this rock-paper-Koran-Bible-scissors game work, again?
And seriously, “Abdulla Ab-Du-Lah”? Has Chick ever heard an Arabic name outside of a racist joke, South Park, or a child’s board game?
Er, Jews don’t reject Jesus, they just don’t think he was the savior.
By the way: All Muslims look like the guy on the left, and all Jews look like the guy on the right. Always. I mean, I know I shouldn’t really be surprised about racial caricatures in a Chick Tract, but… goddamn.
More like Doctor Greenberg! (Dun-dun-dunnnnnn!) Really, though, why does every “villain” in a Chick Tract have to be a stereotypical Jew caricature?
Right, a theological professor… a fucking professor of theology… is going to advocate removing a passage from the Bible. “Hey, I know! Let’s alter up the fuck out of a bunch of historical documents! I’m going to get my X-Acto knife so I can make a collage out of the Voynich Manuscript! And then I’m going to rearrange the Bible to spell out naughty words! I knew that stupid doctorate would come in handy one day. For a while, I thought this job was going to actually have something to do with education and study of this shit.”
That’s right, Jack — you and your kind are such victims. Society hates you. Everyone wants to build a big brick box and lock you all inside it. We all want to oppress your religious freedoms, and keep you from praying. We’re going to put prayer monitors on your heads that will keep track of your thoughts, and — aw, sweet purple corn-shucking hell, I just realized — you’re getting hard from this, aren’t you, Jack? *shudders*
BIG MEAN MEN BEING ALL INTIMIDATING TO POOR LITTLE GIRL
I kind of want to make an animated gif of a back-and-forth of the change in shape of the lawyer’s marshmallow head between these two panels.
Little girl looks like a blow-up doll for pederasts.
Isn’t the judge one of the Muppets?
Not much else of note in this one.
You know, I don’t see why Jack thinks that people like this are generally viewed favorably by others. People who get this blubbery over something so trivial should be slapped until they achieve a realistic perspective on the significance of events that take place in their lives. And cases like this are always tossed out of court.
“Come to Papa Mushroom!”
There’s no amount of mockery that can do to this guy’s face anything more hilarious than it already does to itself. So I’ll just let it do that.
Yeah. You were going to get ten million dollars. From a little girl.
Okay, so, returning to the earlier “brainwashing” premise: How does this prove the girl wasn’t brainwashed? I don’t quite understand that. “Our case is based on the notion that this girl was brainwashed! In this fabricated universe, people can sue other people for converting their loved ones! The little girl has just demonstrated she’d been converted. Oh fucks, we lost!” Maybe I missed a step or something, but this is completely logically baffling.
How do you know Jesus doesn’t lie? Because he says he doesn’t? I say I don’t lie. Other people can corroborate this. In fact, you can find written documents that validate this.
“And he gave me these great smoked aviator glasses!”
So, uh… how did the thing over on the right… give birth to the thing over on the left? Dad must’ve been something really special to undo the damage from all of Mrs. Creosote’s hideous genes.
The FBI’s Least Wanted List.
Oh, is this a “find the difference” game? Let’s see… they all have facial hair of some sort… they’re all wearing something on their heads… they’re all ghastly-looking cretins… Nope, sorry, I give up.
I’d like to print this one out, all on its own, and paste it up randomly in various places.
So, many years later, as we’re informed in the last panel, they’ve passed into eternity, after which something startling occurs. In other words, they die, pass into eternity, then after that eternity (apparently), they’re taken from their graves and judged by God. Well, shit, that’s not going to be so bad after all. God doesn’t judge us until after an eternity has already passed!
I think it’s even more startling that they were all buried right the fuck next to each other, in the same cemetery, and that they’re all exactly the same age as they were during the civil suit.
Apparently the priest died from a massive goiter that somehow made him retarded.
“Hahaaaa, gotcha!” said God. “Man, you guys guessed so wrong. Well, because you got the wrong answer in my guessing game, you lose and get tortured for the rest of time, which is endless. Y’all just got punk’d.”
So, in some Chick Tracts, people stand immediately before God upon their deaths. In others, like this one, they wait until Judgment Day, and everyone is simultaneously brought before God. In yet others, people are rejected right at the gate, because “God doesn’t allow sin into heaven”. Well, which is it? Make up your mind already.
Okay, so, according to fundie philosophy, God is Jesus, right? There’s no difference. Chick has mentioned before that it was Jesus who created the universe. So, Jesus was the physical manifestation that God had to send to Earth because of Original Sin. Thus, if there was no Original Sin, there would be no need for this physical manifestation. So, then, if Jesus created the universe, then Original Sin was created as a foregone conclusion. And that means that God chooses to punish all humans for eternity for a condition that he set in motion himself, which is all basically his fault.
Attack of the Fifty Foot Angel
All the people are the exact same form, in the exact same position, but different sizes. Oh, and one of them has a skirt.
Wait a minute, God’s not supposed to have a face. What is this shit? I’m disillusioned!
Is… is God Abraham Lincoln? Or maybe… Ulysses S. Grant? John Anderson in one of his bearded Twilight Zone roles?
So… Satan has no followers, then? Because nobody calls the Bible “hate literature”.
Oh, and apparently, anyone with beliefs that differ at all, even in any slight way from fundamentalism worships Satan. Right, makes perfect sense. I’ll be sure to note that one, in pen.
Why is there some kind of living turnip with a face throwing the devil horns in the background? And is… is that Janet Reno?
GYAH! THE EYES! THE EYESSSSSSS!
I think she’s technically legally considered an aircraft, with that bow on her head.
“Hey, everyone, look over there: It’s NOTHING! Do NOTHING!”
I really want to create an alternative “next page” for this one. I dunno, something involving rolling around in shredded carrots and Vaseline while quoting the entire Planet of the Apes. Or pissing as high as you possibly can up a wall, driving a nail into that spot, and hanging a portrait of Rick Moranis from the nail. Or running a stick of butter through a coffee filter, drinking the filtered liquid, then using the stuff still in the filter to write a poem about a fat baby on the side of a horse.
Hurting. So, so much. I think I have to go cry now.
Until next week. Tell your friends.