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BattleCry attack on Philadelphia
Militaristic "Jesus warriors" launch their war on the rest of us. May 12 Report from Philadelphia City Paper.
Don't Cum, All Ye Faithful
by Ashlea Halpern
Give me your freaks, your perverts, your unrepentant sinners, the immoral refuse of your oversexed land. But please, dear God, keep the evangelicals to yourself.
I'm talking about the body of Christers behind the upcoming BattleCry for a Generation rally.
Fresh off revivals in Dallas, Detroit and San Francisco, the party is landing at the Wachovia Spectrum this weekend with 15,000 Jesus-worshipping teens in tow.
The point? To protest peddlers of pop culture smut ("virtue terrorists")—namely MTV, Grand Theft Auto, Starbucks, Hollywood and other heretics that purportedly teach teens how to destroy their lives with sex, violence and triple venti vanilla lattes. A page from the BattleCry Teenage Bill of Rights reads: "Enough sex, enough violence, enough porn, enough lies about what will make us happy! Enough robbing of our future."
Scary, huh?
An offshoot of Teen Mania Ministries, one of the world's largest youth groups, BattleCry uses militaristic terminology to describe its initiatives: enlist, equip, mobilize, recruit, advance, defeat.
"These are young people coming to take a stand for the generation," says founder Ron Luce, adding that the message in Christian circles for the last 40 years has been far too passive: "Whisper a little prayer, say 'God bless you' when someone sneezes, and you'll go to heaven. The Bible says train for war … We have to invade the world with the love of Jesus Christ."
The battle plan: Deploy troops of young Jesus warriors to systematically pillage the minds of their peers before they're all knocked up, strung out and condemned to an eternity spit roasting in hell.
And you gotta hand it to the Christians—they sure know how to throw a party. The two-day, $55 event furthers its absolutist view by using pyrotechnics, interactive media (including a Web site Luce calls "MySpace with God in the middle"), and entertainment by godforsaken emo bands. In essence, it's using the very media it condemns to market an identity based on strict brand loyalty (aka Christ, Inc.).
They're even trotting out "sexpert" Lakita Garth, a 36-year-old former Miss Black California who recently lost her virginity to her new husband. Garth will be touting the benefits of abstinence (um, more time to masturbate?) and unleashing old scare tactics (Gonorrhea or God, your choice).
"We're not there to tear down people's lifestyle," says 18-year-old Amanda Hughey, BattleCry's one-time party girl turned spokes-drone. "We're standing up against pop culture. We don't want to drink, we don't want to do drugs and we don't want to sleep around. We are an army rising up."
Shouldn't she be worrying about what to wear to prom or where to go to college? Or am I just another heathen being duped by the System?
I say the whole rebel yell thing smacks of a Goliath-bigger problem: As conservatives push for universal golly-gosh-gee-whiz blinders, more and more teens fall victim to a repressive sexual culture that believes if we be reeeeal quiet, maybe it'll all just go away.
Well, I don't buy it. Harlots, hustlers and hos: The enemy is upon us. We are under attack. In honor of all that is good and holy and orgasmic, we've got to fight back.
This is war.
Questions? Comments? Want me to repent? E-mail ashlea.halpern [at] citypaper.net. No phone calls.
http://citypaper.net/articles/2006-05-11/paperdoll.shtml
© Copyright 1995–2006 Philadelphia City Paper. All rights reserved.
by Ashlea Halpern
Give me your freaks, your perverts, your unrepentant sinners, the immoral refuse of your oversexed land. But please, dear God, keep the evangelicals to yourself.
I'm talking about the body of Christers behind the upcoming BattleCry for a Generation rally.
Fresh off revivals in Dallas, Detroit and San Francisco, the party is landing at the Wachovia Spectrum this weekend with 15,000 Jesus-worshipping teens in tow.
The point? To protest peddlers of pop culture smut ("virtue terrorists")—namely MTV, Grand Theft Auto, Starbucks, Hollywood and other heretics that purportedly teach teens how to destroy their lives with sex, violence and triple venti vanilla lattes. A page from the BattleCry Teenage Bill of Rights reads: "Enough sex, enough violence, enough porn, enough lies about what will make us happy! Enough robbing of our future."
Scary, huh?
An offshoot of Teen Mania Ministries, one of the world's largest youth groups, BattleCry uses militaristic terminology to describe its initiatives: enlist, equip, mobilize, recruit, advance, defeat.
"These are young people coming to take a stand for the generation," says founder Ron Luce, adding that the message in Christian circles for the last 40 years has been far too passive: "Whisper a little prayer, say 'God bless you' when someone sneezes, and you'll go to heaven. The Bible says train for war … We have to invade the world with the love of Jesus Christ."
The battle plan: Deploy troops of young Jesus warriors to systematically pillage the minds of their peers before they're all knocked up, strung out and condemned to an eternity spit roasting in hell.
And you gotta hand it to the Christians—they sure know how to throw a party. The two-day, $55 event furthers its absolutist view by using pyrotechnics, interactive media (including a Web site Luce calls "MySpace with God in the middle"), and entertainment by godforsaken emo bands. In essence, it's using the very media it condemns to market an identity based on strict brand loyalty (aka Christ, Inc.).
They're even trotting out "sexpert" Lakita Garth, a 36-year-old former Miss Black California who recently lost her virginity to her new husband. Garth will be touting the benefits of abstinence (um, more time to masturbate?) and unleashing old scare tactics (Gonorrhea or God, your choice).
"We're not there to tear down people's lifestyle," says 18-year-old Amanda Hughey, BattleCry's one-time party girl turned spokes-drone. "We're standing up against pop culture. We don't want to drink, we don't want to do drugs and we don't want to sleep around. We are an army rising up."
Shouldn't she be worrying about what to wear to prom or where to go to college? Or am I just another heathen being duped by the System?
I say the whole rebel yell thing smacks of a Goliath-bigger problem: As conservatives push for universal golly-gosh-gee-whiz blinders, more and more teens fall victim to a repressive sexual culture that believes if we be reeeeal quiet, maybe it'll all just go away.
Well, I don't buy it. Harlots, hustlers and hos: The enemy is upon us. We are under attack. In honor of all that is good and holy and orgasmic, we've got to fight back.
This is war.
Questions? Comments? Want me to repent? E-mail ashlea.halpern [at] citypaper.net. No phone calls.
http://citypaper.net/articles/2006-05-11/paperdoll.shtml
© Copyright 1995–2006 Philadelphia City Paper. All rights reserved.
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Thou shalt not defile so much as the name of Thine Imaginary Grampa. It's completely fine, on the other hand, if thou shouldst totally destroy and lay waste the MANIFEST DEITY that is this incredible LIVING PLANET. Every time you unleash evil upon the world, you cause Thine Imaginary Grampa to have a convulsive screaming orgasm, and this is evil at its absolute purest, like China White. Keep up thy good work.
Thou shalt not wonder why pure evil causes Thine Imaginary Grampa to have convulsive screaming orgasms. Just keep thy nose to the pure-evil grindstone
Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image. All graven images are to be mass-manufactured in the Far East by Thine Imaginary Grampa's corporate licensees and sold in your local Walmart Supercenter. Go Satanic enough to become a billionaire yourself and maybe he'll let you in on the action.
In the hope that you never realize you're just a shuffling stupid slave, Thine Imaginary Grampa's corporate licensees authorize you to take a day off from nose-grinding each week to cuddle in Grampa's lap and get your stupidity back up to full charge
A special note of thanks to fathers and mothers: the Moloch-- uh, I mean, Thine Imaginary Grampa -- wishes to thank you for the offspring you have laid in his maw-- um, WORLD! -- by the simple act of conception!
Thou shalt not kill (unless commanded to do so by an obvious circle of Satanic priests at the highest level of government)
Thou shalt not steal (unless it's over the dead bodies of the men, women, and babies you just killed; see last)
Thou shalt not betray thy neighbor. That's Grampa's gig
Thou shalt not covet. Wealth is for Grampa and his corporate licensees. Your job is to get sucked dry, got it bub?
Aw geez, now you've done it!