So, it looks like the Westboro Baptist Church wasn't much after all; just a raggedy bunch of miscreants dragging along their thin children to wearily hide behind signs on an endless field trip full of hate.
I can't help but feel terribly sad for Westboro Baptist's children and their hopelessly damaged childhood. Probably, there are happy memories for them. We can only imagine them by hoping somehow that beyond their parents' relentless and seemingly all-consuming hatred for gays, Jews, Catholics and whoever else makes the list, there is something like love of their own. You can hope they take their kids to the park, read to them at night and make them pancakes every chance they get.
You can hope and I can hope, but I don't think it happens so much. I think these children are growing up under siege in a world their parents tell them is filled with nothing but monsters. I think they're taught they're powerless against a million demons, demons only kept at bay through ranting prayers and the power of their foolish laws. I think all any of them think they have is their distant, angry God --a God who does very little to intercede on their behalf and only seems to bother to smite their enemies when he's bored.
I don't think I've ever seen a bunch of kids more in need of a trip to Chuck E. Cheese.
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