MAGA Jesus

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MAGA Jesus: The Gospel According to Trump

MAGA Jesus is not the Jesus you’ll ever find in the Sermon on the Mount, or in any Bible except maybe the Trump Bible—if such a thing existed. MAGA Jesus is a peculiar invention, trotted out at town halls, council meetings, and Sunday sermons where politics drowns out the gospel.

Take our own little stage play at the council meetings. A local preacher solemnly opens with a prayer to “guide our leaders,” but then, without skipping a beat, the three stooges—Steve Otto, Charlie Bell, and Jim Ferris—step up to the microphone and torch every Christian virtue they just invoked. They lie about town management, misrepresent facts, and do their level best to undo what good people have worked so hard to build. Their piety lasts about as long as it takes to say “Amen.”

And if you flip on KMOG radio, you’ll hear the same script. Kenny Murphy—our local Rush Limbaugh wannabe—starts his show with a prayer asking Jesus to keep him on the right path. Then, without a blink of irony, he barrels down the MAGA highway: a steady stream of Trump worship, grievance politics, greed, and good old-fashioned disinformation. It’s a sermon where the Beatitudes get replaced with the Fox News talking points of the day.

The truth is, Trump didn’t just stumble into this playbook. He mastered it. He saw the hunger among certain evangelicals not for the Christ who preached humility, love, and sacrifice, but for a golden idol who would validate their resentments and weaponize their faith. And so MAGA Jesus was born—an angry, vengeful figure who blesses tax cuts for billionaires, sneers at immigrants, and cheers when the poor are told to fend for themselves.

The tragedy is that real Christianity—the one that calls for caring for the least among us, welcoming strangers, and speaking truth—has been pushed aside. In its place, we get a hollow imitation, a blasphemous knockoff used as a political tool. MAGA Jesus doesn’t turn water into wine; he turns lies into votes.

Maybe someday, the folks who invoke His name so casually will crack open the actual Gospels again and notice the difference. But until then, we’ll keep seeing MAGA Jesus show up at town halls, radio stations, and rallies—dressed not in robes, but in a red cap.

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Rain of lies

6:03 A.M. The rain is pouring down like the lies from MAGA. Thick, relentless, and impossible to ignore. If you’ve ever watched the local Hoopleheads in action, you know what I mean. The hypocrisy, the stupidity, the sheer lack of integrity—it’s a circus that has to be witnessed to be believed.

Take, for example, our own three stooges: Steve Otto, Charlie Bell, and Jim Farris. In their infinite wisdom, they decided the way to “protect morality” was to cut library funding—because apparently books are more dangerous than ignorance. Their crusade against “pornography” was nothing more than a cheap play to the simple-minded, the kind of red meat that gets the MAGA dogs howling. These are the same masterminds who push the idea that a “deep state” is secretly running things in little old Payson. It would be laughable if it weren’t so dangerous.

This manipulation of the gullible is straight out of Donald Trump’s playbook. Trump’s genius wasn’t in building towers—it was in hiring idiots to manipulate other idiots. He stacked his administration with incompetent loyalists whose only qualification was blind obedience. And the MAGA peasants loved it, because the wreckage of normal governance felt like “sticking it to the elites.”

But Trump’s greatest invention—the crown jewel of his con—was Fake News. A magic phrase that erases reality. Don’t like the climate crisis? Just say it’s fake. Don’t like the fact-checkers? Fire them. Don’t like the press? Call them the enemy of the people. He trained his followers to sneer at journalism and instead feast on a steady diet of conspiracy and lies.

Trump is not a politician—he’s a cult leader. He knows exactly how Hitler dismantled truth in Germany, and he’s replaying the script word for word. And in the wings, Vladimir Putin couldn’t be happier. Trump is gutting American democracy so cheaply that Putin must feel like he’s shopping in the clearance aisle at Walmart.

The real tragedy is not just that Trump knows how to con people—it’s that millions still want to be conned.

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Penis Compensators for little men

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How to Be a Real Man (Republican Edition)

Jeff is a big guy. He doesn’t carry a handgun—he doesn’t need to. He calls the handgun what it really is: a penis compensator.

If you’ve spent any time around Republicans, you already know the type. Scratch the surface and you find sexual hang-ups galore. Nobody needs a handgun. But if you’re a mental lightweight, strapping one to your hip magically adds six inches to your… confidence. Instant he-man, at least in your own head.

Of course, firearms aren’t the only way to inflate your masculinity. If you’re a member of the Hooplehead tribe or a Tea Party dinger, here are some tried-and-true tips for making yourself feel large and in charge:

1. Get yourself a noisy truck or motorcycle.
   Big noise equals big man. Animals in the wild roar, screech, and howl to show dominance. Why shouldn’t little men with insecurities do it with a smokey, ear-splitting truck?

2. Wave your flag—literally.
   Nothing says “brave” quite like a “Don’t Tread on Me” flag flapping in the wind. Bonus points if it’s oversized enough to block traffic.

3. Sticker up.
   Plaster your truck with a Trump decal. That way, everyone will know you’ve pledged allegiance to the world’s biggest orange strongman.

4. Dress the part.
   A T-shirt promoting guns does wonders. “I ♥ My AR-15” will make you look tough at the gas station and even tougher at Applebee’s.

Follow these steps and you’ll have women swooning—at least that’s what the fantasy promises. In reality, you’ll mostly attract honks, eye-rolls, and the occasional speeding ticket.

But hey, if loud engines, big guns, and bad politics make you feel like a man, then you’ve found your tribe. Just don’t confuse smoke and noise with strength. Jeff will still be the biggest guy in the room—without a compensator strapped to his hip.

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A New Lie

The Tea Party’s Ministry of Lies

The Tea Party’s devotion to dishonesty never ceases to amaze me. Today I spoke with Shirley, the head of our local Tea Party. To her credit, Shirley was polite—but what stunned me was her casual mention of yet another fabrication currently making the rounds.

Let me back up. During the last election season, I stopped by the U-Turn for Christ thrift shop and questioned why a tax-exempt nonprofit had a giant Trump banner draped across its building. Politics and tax-free status aren’t supposed to mix. Not long after, I got a call from Pastor Joe himself. Instead of addressing the issue reasonably, he brushed aside the concern, assured me the banner was “perfectly fine,” and in the same breath told me they would find my body.

That was a first: being threatened with death by a pastor. Given Pastor Joe’s prison background, I suppose intimidation counts as one of his spiritual gifts. He also banned me from setting foot in the thrift store—something I’ve honored.

But apparently, that wasn’t enough. Now Pastor Joe, in his holy role as Christ’s representative on Earth, is telling people there’s a restraining order against me. Of course, no such order exists. It’s just another Tea Party tall tale: an ounce of truth buried under pounds of fabrication. For them, spreading lies has become a full-time ministry.

Shirley added a little extra salt and pepper, as MAGA folks love to do. According to her, Kadizzle was keeping the Republican headquarters from closing simply by “arguing with the staff”—a peculiar story, considering I was there early in the day and no such thing happened.

Exactly what my supposed “sins” were became the subject of our talk. Apparently, one offense was “mumbling under my breath” at a Tea Party meeting about the lies being told. That, according to Shirley, was one of the “chances” I had already used up.

But the biggest whopper involved my encounter with the notorious liar Gary Morris. I once walked up to Morris and asked to speak with him about the falsehoods he was spreading. Later, under oath in court, Morris claimed I had spit on him. I have the video of the exchange, and no such thing happened. Yet, in the Tea Party world, merely asking a man to explain his lies counts as “assault.”

This same game has been played by others in the MAGA crowd. At a town hall meeting, I confronted Steve Otto about his own dishonesty in front of a room full of people. His response? He accused me of assault.

The pattern is clear: if you question their lies, they don’t answer—you become the lie. Intimidation, distortion, and fabrication are the tools of their trade. For the Tea Party, truth isn’t just inconvenient. It’s the enemy.

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The MAGA game

Kadizzle wanted to attend the latest MAGA idiots convention at Tiny’s Restaurant. But here’s the problem: the MAGA crowd doesn’t like people showing up at their propaganda sessions and asking hard questions. Their tactic is simple — if you challenge them, they label it a “disturbance.”

The trick is, they never say exactly what you’ve done wrong. If you post something online that exposes their blind loyalty to Trump or the Republican Party, that’s enough to get you blacklisted. And when you press them for specifics, none ever come.

Kadizzle asked Shirley, the head of the Tea Party, if he could attend the Eli Crane event at Tiny’s. Here’s the phone message she left:

“We’ve all decided that you will not be attending the Eli Crane event tomorrow. You’ve already had too many second chances.

I also hear you’ve been posting that we’re going to have armed security at the event — and yes, we are. If you show up out front with a bullhorn disturbing the peace, you will be picked up for that.

No signs will be allowed inside. I’m sorry, but nobody trusts you to control yourself, and that’s the final decision.

Okay, I’ll see you around. Bye.”

Notice the line: “You’ve already had too many second chances.” Second chances for what, exactly? Of course, Shirley doesn’t say.

Kadizzle went anyway. No problems. The only drama came when Denis Bacon, one of their loyalists, instructed the police to “keep an eye” on him. After the event, Kadizzle asked Denis if there was some issue. The only reply: “You’re an asshole.”

That’s it. No evidence. No specifics. Just name-calling and vague accusations.

This is how the Tea Party operates: false claims, empty threats, and a constant effort to silence anyone who asks uncomfortable questions.

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The idiots convention at Tiny's resteraunt

Eli Crane’s Traveling Circus Comes to Payson

The Tea Party likes to think Eli Crane represents the people of Payson,  Let’s be clear—he doesn’t. What Eli represents is the Tea Party wing of Payson, and if you scraped together the lowest IQ samples wandering through Walmart on a Saturday night, you’d have a pretty fair cross-section of that “movement.” Sorting fact from fiction isn’t on their skill set. Their rule of thumb is simple: if Trump says it, it’s gospel—and if Eli repeats it, it’s scripture.

So what exactly went down at this latest idiot convention? Predictably, the same tired, baseless numbers and stories were trotted out, and the crowd swallowed them whole. Immigrants, as always, were cast as villains—it’s the Hooplehead convention’s greatest hit. And of course, Trump was painted as the billionaire savior of the working man, supposedly saving us all mountains of money. Not a word about taxing the rich. Not a whisper about the ballooning deficit. Selective memory is a requirement at these events.

The microphone made its way around the room, but you can bet Democrats weren’t the ones holding it. The usual sycophants lined up, including Inga, who acted like she wanted to compare Eli to Jesus. Yes—Jesus. Because nothing says Christ-like humility and sacrifice quite like voting against school lunches and parroting Trump’s tantrums.

Then came Eli’s deep thoughts on free speech: apparently, cutting funding for PBS is the ultimate victory for liberty. After all, PBS is “communist,” don’t you know. The right-wing spin was enough to make you nauseous, a twisted funhouse mirror where reality goes in one side and comes out looking like a campaign bumper sticker.

And of course, the costumes. Cowboy hats galore, goofy getups, and MAGA hats worn proudly—because in this upside-down circus, wearing a Trump hat is like strapping on an Einstein wig. The faithful beam with pride, oblivious to the irony.

Honestly, one could have stayed home and watched Fox News for the same content, but at least in person you got the live-action spectacle. Eli Crane’s show was less a political rally and more a revival meeting for the Church of Trump. The gospel? Lies, resentment, and grievance. The choir? A crowd eager to shout “Amen!” to whatever nonsense was passed off as truth.

If this is the best representation Payson can muster, the town deserves better. Much better.

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Leaving MAGA

All the old goats sat an watched a presentation on television. Leaving MAGA is an organization trying to help cult people. It was a good presentation and help us to understand how the cult recruits people. The speaker was in the cult for seven years, and then read some real news articles. That and figuring out a couple other things about the deceit made him leave. Visit leavingmaga.org to find out for yourself some good ways to help friends out of the cult. 

The Magic Hat

The Magical Powers of a MAGA Hat

MAGA hats are like magic wands for the mind — but not in a good way. Slip one on and suddenly you can abandon logic, swallow every Trump lie without question, and proudly sign up for membership in a political cult. The transformation is instant.

The real magic, though, is not in what the hat does to the wearer, but in what it signals to everyone else. A MAGA hat is like a flashing neon sign over your head: “I’ve checked out of reality.” It tells the world you’ve traded critical thinking for blind loyalty, that you’re willing to embrace delusion as long as it comes wrapped in red fabric and stitched with Trump’s slogan.

Clothing has always been symbolic. Uniforms, badges, even simple accessories help identify people and their values. A doctor’s coat signals professionalism, a wedding ring symbolizes commitment, and a MAGA hat? It shouts ignorance, gullibility, and a willingness to be duped. It’s an advertisement that says, “I’ve stopped questioning. I believe whatever I’m told.”

Nothing in modern American politics so perfectly captures the cult-like devotion to one man as that red cap. To the rest of us living in reality, it serves as a warning sign — a reminder that some people would rather cling to fantasy than face uncomfortable truths. And perhaps the saddest part is that they think it’s a badge of honor, when in reality it’s just a billboard for foolishness.

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Have some fun, spoof a Republican

Kadizzle had to go to the pharmacy at the grocery store. For privacy the line for services is in one of the grocery aisles until your turn. Bored Kadizzle decided to do a Trump spoof. Holding his phone up as if he were talking to someone Kadizzle said all the bad things he could think of.  The who idea is to rile any Trump Hoopleheads in the line. It worked. A Trump dog stared at Kadizzle as he spoke to a woman in line about what a rat Trump is.  When Kadizzle finished his fake call the woman in front of him said she hated Trump also. This was perfect. The two of us ranted about Trump and the Hoople just stared in anger. 

OK, you can do Trump spoofs. With modern phones one half the conversation is broadcast into headphones, hearing aid or whatever. So you just hold your phone to your ear and act like you are talking to someone. You can do it at the doctors office while you wait or anywhere Trump dogs might be in ear shot. Sometimes the Trump dogs cannot hold on and will make a remark. That just makes it more fun.