Rachel Maddow Questions Role In New LGBT-Only Religion

Dear God,

Okay, I’m having second thoughts here. I don’t know what to do. I have no one to talk with about it either. It’s like I didn’t mean for this to happen, but I did, but I didn’t, but I did… You get the point.

From your cloud, I’m sure you can clearly see that plans are unfortunately moving forward for me to be “The Messiah” in this new LGBT-only world religion. I can’t tell whether I don’t want to follow through with my role now because A) it’s embarrassing; B) it’s a waste of time; C) it’s out of my control; D) all of the above.

But who else are they going to find to perform miracles to legitimize this religion? Okay, so I don’t perform the greatest of miracles. I’m no Mother Theresa. I’m no Joan of Arc. I can’t pull a rabbit out of my ass. I mean, I haven’t pulled a rabbit out of ass yet.

At first I was comfortable starting an LGBT-only religion. Intellectually, I was fine with it as long as I wouldn’t have to resurrect myself after three days or get beamed to heaven on the back of a horse. It would help us as a community to finally come out of the American military’s foxhole, so to speak. Plus, I was like if L. Ron Hubbard can do it, how hard could it be?

It did sort of sting when they told me Liz Cheney turned the post down. They approached Chaz Bono first for obvious reasons, but her metamorphosis won’t be completed until next spring. Then, Ellen DeGeneres. Of all lesbians, I would have thought Ellen would have taken it. She got Portia de Rossi to convert for chrissakes! But whatever. Then Liz, for reasons I’m not too clear about.

I should have never ever accepted the offer. I should have also never told them of… well, you know, my miracles. I guess my ego got the better of me. It was like, “I’ll show you! Those other lesbos might be more popular, but they can’t do this!” And before I had a chance to think, I dropped my track suit pants and positioned myself into what appeared to them to be me about to do “number two” in the middle of the conference room.

Looking back, I’m sorry for freaking them all out. It was bad behavior on my part. But I had no choice. They were going to ask Neil Patrick Harris next. Yeah, Doogie fucking Howser! What is their deal? He’s a magician! Not a messiah! I just had to prove to them my worth, not that hosting a cable pundit show isn’t something not to brag about, mind you! Hello? I have more “disciples” than him! Plus, I don’t hide being gay on my show. So there!

And I have to admit, the look on their faces was priceless. I imagine my face was pretty funny, too. I had never passed a 20 lbs. bag of candy corn through my sphincter before. I didn’t know that whoever makes candy corn made 20 lbs. bags of it either. But after they had a quick little theological powwow about the pros and cons of having a “savior” excreting various objects from her bottom, I got the job on the spot. No second interview. Divine, eat your heart out!

Now, the theological convention continues. As the group is getting its theological stances in order, I hear that they want me to “feed the world,” like I can actually control what comes out of my rear end. Once, I pooped out a clown car. And 12 clowns leapt out. While I was in the bathroom. On a date. I bet you had a good laugh at that. I know the restaurant owner did. Poor clowns.

Believe me. If I could magically will — I don’t know — machetes out my ass, I’d so do it. Of course, now that I think about it, if machetes flew out my butt, it would hurt more than that dead 24-point deer. Not pretty. Luckily, there was a processing plant nearby. Can’t diss the yummy, free venison.

Then again, I don’t know what more I can get out of this religion deal. A new wardrobe? I don’t like what they want me wearing, some weird Leigh Bowery-esque number by the looks of the early sketches. More sex? Where would I find the time anyway? More respect? From whom? Breeders? Please!

On the other hand, I don’t quite see how me being a spiritual figurehead for non-profit tax purposes can harm you, God. I’ve worked so hard at becoming a media personality when I grew up. Now, I can see about getting more rights for the LGBT community, sneaky though it will be. It’s about time for our turn at running things!

On the other-other hand, what if this LGBT-religion thing really takes off? Who is to say that my name will not be exploited by the likes of some Nancyboy Gingrich and her transgender husband Sporus in 2,000 years? Although “castrated Republicans” does have a nice ring to it, the whole affair might play out like a butterfly on the wheel. I guess I won’t be around to find out, huh?

I don’t know what to do. What should I do, Lord? Do I go through with it? Do I jump ship? Even if I did jump, I don’t see a way out. Either way, I’m going to lose my show when, not if, the truth comes out. Send me a sign. Send me an angel. By Christmas they want to launch this religion. I would appreciate some kind of hint before then. I’m in such a bind.

Yours Prayerfully In Waiting,
Rachel Anne Maddow