Monday, February 17, 2014

Once Bitten . . .

Twice shy, right?

Not if you're a special brand of God-botherer known as a Snake Handler.

You usually find Snake Handlers up in the wilds of Appalachia, in small rural churches were they take their religion so seriously that they've latched onto a minor verse in the Bible (Mark XVI: 18, for those of you playing along at home) and parade around with venomous cottonmouths, copperheads and rattlesnakes in their hands.  All while invoking God to protect them from the effect of the venom when these snakes inevitably bite them.

And people think Islam's a bit odd.

The reason I bring this idiocy up is that yet another Snake Handler bit the big one recently - or, I should say, the snake bit the big one, as it sank its fangs into the guy.

The preacher in question was named Jamie Coots, of the Church of the Final Thunder in Hot Town, Mississippi - oops, sorry, that would be the Full Gospel Tabernacle in Jesus Name church in Middlesboro, Kentucky.  Sorry about that, Mississippi.  He'd been bitten eight times before, and lost a finger after one such bite.

He'd also been arrested for having poisonous snakes in his possession, and for transporting them across state lines.  But I imagine he'd explain all that away as following "God's Law, not Man's." 

Dumbass.

The National Geographic Channel even had a reality show about him, called Snake Salvation.  I guess they wanted to capitalize on the success of Duck Dynasty by highlighting just how insane some backwoods people can get, and let's face it, folks - doing something that can kill you makes for great television.

As I said, Coots had been bitten eight times.  Ninth time was the charm, apparently, as he got bitten, finished up his sermon, went home and succumbed to the poison. 

Which brings this to mind:


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