A Very Naughty Boy:
Getting Right with Brian
RANDALL E. AUXIER
Let's start by just facing it. We're all sinners—not me so much as you, because I've actually done pretty well, but I could stand a bit of regeneration and I can see that you are in real trouble with you-know-Who. He told me so Himself, last night, over a bottle of Two-Buck-Chuck. He likes cheap wine because, well, He loves a bargain. Here is the point. I have a message for you from Him, so listen up: “You are to regard the following essay as revealed, on peril of your eternal soul” (and if you are reading this, I'm sure the peril is quite real). I don't ask any more of you than would any other inspired being.
How came I to possess such particular favor with He-Whocannot-be-named? I was a delinquent of fourteen, wandering down a street in Memphis, when a small band of renegade Baptists sidled up to me, sincerely inquiring as to the likely destination of my soul.1 I said I was late to meet my dealer. They were undeterred. I told them he would be armed and dangerous, and that he was a Methodist. That just encouraged them. They said that if I would pray a simple prayer with them and ask Brian into
1 I don't want to single out Baptists for ridicule. Some of my best friends were
once Baptists. And I have enough ridicule to spread among many deserving
factions, each convinced that the others are bound for Hades. This special con-
viction is my cue that God wants me to make fun of them.