So this gentleman voted for George W. Bush.
Many years ago, I was a super-Christian, attending a Christian Fundamentalist church in Tea, South Dakota. It was one of those quiverfull churches. Families with a dozen children. A nursery so large, it was bigger than the auditorium. Every time the door to the nursery opened, a wave of poopy diaper laden air would sweep over the congregation, and we would collectively breathe deeply, smelling the scent of being holy before the jealous face of our angry god. He had blessed us with children, one wife, and lots of dresses.
The Republican primaries were in full swing. Fred Thompson was ahead in the polls. Every time he opened his mouth, I kept thinking about Baby’s Day Out, when he said “boo boo” with a straight face, as the chief of police. I really liked the guy. He was well-spoken and lifted my spirits with his baritone pipes. As moderates go, he was a tad to the right of center. I agreed with his stance on abortion, which was all I cared about at the time.
Then, stupidly, I opened my mouth, while talking to a gentleman who had come to South Dakota from South Carolina. He was a super-Christian, as well. Much more super than my super-ness. He looked at me as I spoke glowingly about Fred and then turned up his nose.
“I will never vote for a man who has been married three time.”
My, how far we’ve come. We have those same conservative super-Christians, arguing all kinds of spaghettified arguments, telling their followers and fellow parishioners, that being married three times, fucking a prostitute, not knowing your Bible, claiming that he has nothing that needs to be forgiven, as well as a complete lack of humility, is meaningless, rather, being against “God’s anointed” is the true sin in this exercise.