A venture to this state park is on the must-do list for many, the park being the only spot in North America where you can dig for diamonds and other gemstones and keep your finds.
Word from inside the Hucka-sanctum is of great disillusionment that God has run such a pisspoor presidential campaign for the man from Hope.
They still cite Romans 8:31 but with a creeping irony.
“It's not like Him to lead people on, get them all excited, get their hopes up, and then pull the rug out from under them like this,” one of the readers of the handwriting on the wall says.
I'm not so sure. Maybe it is like Him. Maybe that's gotten to be His political-campaign m.o. here in Century 21 USA. Didn't Bro. Pat Robertson go through much the same embarrassing rigmarole not long ago?
To review Bro. Pat's ordeal: God gave Bro. Pat to believe that Rudy Giuliani was the '08 divinely anointed; Bro. Pat dutifully passed the word along, adding his own endorsement; then before the front-page ink had dried concerning the anointing, Giuliani became a laughing stock, seen as a p.w.ed comb-over buffoon, and his woefully inept high-dollar campaign had gone down, as the moon masters at the House of Dominoes used to say, like a turd in a churn.
Ordinarily Bro. Pat would've come back with an excuse, even if it was necessarily lame. There must've been a cell drop, on his end or God's, or interference from all the FISA headsets snooping in, or sunspots, or it might've been a prank by Satan to humble pious conservatives and aid the Traitorcrats — just anything to exonerate the Maker. The Maker makes everything except mistakes — or a mess of a promotional campaign. You can blame gamma rays, human error, or Bill Clinton for just about anything, but as Bro. Mike himself once said, don't blame nare thing on no Act of God. That's been the tradition anyhow.
But this time, in the Giuliani fiasco, Bro. Pat didn't jump immediately to God's defense. He didn't blame God but he didn't let Him off the hook either. He just seemed to sag under the weight of it all.
To me, that suggests he had to struggle not to be just a little bit p.o.'ed over the hoorawing he and Giuliani took, and might be at long last giving himself permission to wonder if on occasion God Almighty might not be something of a big old practical joker.
God as practical joker is the only explanation for the botched Giuliani campaign that doesn't put the burden back squarely on Bro. Pat for having dragged God into the sorry business in the first place. And of course it's a given that in any consideration of such matters, Bro. Pat is merely the messenger and must therefore remain blameless. So it's blame God or slink off somewhere and hope time wounds heels.
The only other explanation, and this would be even more unacceptable under the 700 Club conventions, would be that God doesn't give a rat about any of this idiocy, and doesn't communicate with any of these idiots, by telephone or snail mail or any other way, and might even be Himself a little resentful about having his transcendent majesty slimed around so regularly by these same shameless bounders in this particular irreverent sty.
That last possibility makes sense to me, but it gets little or no press, and I lack space here to pursue it, assuming I'd have the stomach to.
Anyway, the drift toward absurdity of Bro. Mike's continuing campaign presents him and his followers with a set of challenges similar to those besetting Bro. Pat.
God told Bro. Mike that He was on his side, and didn't tell him to keep it a secret. So Bro. Mike passed the message along Moses-like as Bro. Pat had. Then God gave him the Iowa miracle as a show of good faith, to seal the deal. What was Bro. Mike supposed to think? I mean, God doesn't blow hot and cold on such matters. He has a game plan and sticks to it. He doesn't tell you one thing and then do something else. He doesn't, no matter what Bro. Pat might nowadays suspect, play practical jokes. He is above that, in more ways than one.
And yet it was the old flopper McCain, reeking of lobby dew, who got the providential Republican nod, with poor credulous Bro. Mike left to wonder why. Though He slay me, still will I trust him. Sounds brave, but it's a bitter pill.
It's possible, of course, that Bro. Huckabee misconstrued what God said, in the same way that Bro. Ronnie Floyd mistakenly thought God had endorsed him for president of the Southern Baptist Convention. God is not usually cryptic but sometimes He is. And in this case He might've thundered something hypothetical about Bro. Mike being elected president, and Bro. Mike's heart leapt up and he heard what he wanted to hear.
On balance, I think it's a bum rap to say God mismanaged either campaign. I'm pretty sure God never was for Giuliani. Nobody else was, so why should He have been? And Bro. Mike too got what he surely wanted from his grifter's campaign, what he's always wanted from everything he's ever been involved in, seeing it as another grabathon, his most lucrative yet, one that ought to hold him for a while, and all his trashy retinue, but probably won't.
Bob Lancaster, one of the Arkansas Times longest and most valued contributors, retired from writing his column last week. We’ll miss his his contributions mightily. Look out, in the weeks to come, for a look back at some of his greatest hits. In the meantime, here's a good place to start.