Well, well, it looks like we have a whole new genre to deal with in this new satanic century. Shall we call it pop theology? – or perhaps pop shit? (10,000 Hail Marys, Lord Jesus Savior)

Christians are the most stereotyped, caricatured and satirized group in the world. But it’s been that way for two thousand years. But we’re used to it. We’re tough and we’re still here. And we’ll still be here long after the mockers and haters like horse’s ass mole-faced Dan Brown and his beastly book, The Da Vinci Code, are rotting in the landfills of the world. The purpose of this not-usual introduction, if for nothing else, is to clear up one single misconception about the spirit of our faith, and that is, though we worship the Lord Jesus Christ who was without sin, struggle or strife; we, our sinful selves, are but flesh and blood. Why it’s this way is for men of holy wisdom much greater than your humble film reviewer to say.

The point is: there is Christ Jesus, and then there are mere Christians, two separate entities; one perfect, and one flawed. But here’s the skinny: We are a fighting religion! And we will defend our faith with pen and sword as did John Bunyon, Joan of Arc, and King Richard & his crusaders. We were once a weak little band of wretches, spat upon and demeaned, unspeakably tortured, and now we are strong because we worked (horrors!), struggled and built a great nation under God. Yes, I said under God! (time to laugh, asses). Why do we lead the world in all things under the sun? Why do you suppose most other godless continents have nothing but arid deserts and pitiless, ferocious jungles and every matter of evil and unspeakably false gods (like Allah?) and live only to carry bombs under their jammies. To kill innocent children boarding their school buses, we send billions to the dark continents – which will remain such forever. “If you don’t work, you don’t eat.”

Here, now, vile Muslim and Jihadist movies begin to flood our theaters, and the “morally superior” bleeding hearts flock to see this rubbish and cheer on these evil mutants who chop-off each other’s hands and heads to get their jollies off, and live and die only for the G-hod to kill, kill, kill … these mud-people from somewhere up from Hades in the seventh century … But they’re, oh so wonderful and we should all take the greatest care not to “offend” them in any way, shape, or form.

On the other hand, everyone flocks to the bookstores and theaters to see the hateful Da Vinci Code and are simply engrossed and thrilled to imagine our Lord defiled and the thorn of crowns jammed and gouged tighter and deeper into his skull with the filthy lies of theologians like author Dan Brown. His type are legion in the world of academia – up and down the East Coast where those in the theological schools “teach” the word of God and the Gospels and are, by a wide margin, atheists and quislings. You can see these eggheads most any night on your godless PBS channel trying to convince us that we should not take the Holy Bible too seriously … there, there and tut, tut in our comfortable pipe-smoking jackets, let’s just have a hearty chuckle at these pumpkins, the progeny of monkees who each Sunday bow down and worship on their knees in their absurd little church pews.

These oh-so-clever theologians are the very devils that make our world the wretched place it is. But for this bunch and the raft of other “one-worlders” who may be found under any rock you happen to pass, heaven and earth would open to us as a land of milk and honey.

Oh, sorry, it was a movie review you wanted to read.

For starters you won’t understand a word or a scene in the entire film. There are only ominous reaction shots of the stupid faces of bishops and cardinals and Tom Hanks and his little crumbit girlie helper who run about in darkened enclaves of various sanctified museums and cathedrals. Firing guns at each other as the sound makes your ears bleed in the echo of the vast dark emptiness. And while we’re at it, let’s take a good healthy dump on the Mona Lisa. The Da Vinci Code is a piece of unreadable, un-watchable drivel and you will be bored for one hundred and forty eight minutes and glean nothing but tons of unforgivable lies and rubbish. Please don’t do this to yourself. I’m a film critic and must see all the fecal matter that oozes from the bowels of Tinseltown.

Want to see a truly devout movie? Like me, you should go to a new film about a sweet goddess you can really worship. This dear lady’s life is chronicled in The Notorious Bettie Page. She is now 83-years old and preaches the good book in her humble church in the south. And her good Christian self will ascend and resurrect in heaven while Dan Brown and his Da Stinky Code (Duh Chintzy Load) and all the pious pigs of the false church rot in their own snot.