Pessimistic Politics: Chick Tract Trashing

I image that even for a guy so dedicated to being a sociopathic bigot, the idea well does eventually come across a drought period. This is evidenced by the very fact that Jack Chick’s latest (as of this writing) tract involves the “true” meaning of Thanksgiving.

First of all, when I first read to title of this tract, I thought it was going to involve Chick “proving” an urban legend about there being scientific proof that there’s a missing day in the universe. Supposedly, God stopped time twice for a period of 24 hours total (this is only Christian calculation, however, and there really isn't any proof how long God stopped time if he did), thus proving he exists because of this missing day, which would be really cool if it weren’t wrong. Check out urban legends site Snopes.com for more info on the great disappearing day and to kill a couple of hours.

It seems kind of funny that he’s releasing a Thanksgiving tract in September, but then again, pre-holiday hype waits for no man, even a man following God’s Will. Instead of doing another tract about evil old Halloween (which, by the way, is evil), Chick decided to pounce on the next holiday over. I’m surprised he didn’t do one about Christmas or Easter, since those are Christian holidays (well, they may be pagan, but let's ignore that for now), even though they were taken by the corporations years ago to sell products to saps. I would think Chick would try to defend these holidays, especially since they mark the two most important days in Christianity, what with Christ’s birth and death and all.

Nope, instead Chick takes the least traveled road and decides to rant on Thanksgiving, a holiday that I always thought was secular. Really, this one belongs to the United States, since it involves immigrants coming over to the New World seeking freedom, regardless of what kind of freedom. It’s really a national holiday and not a religious one. I think what happened is Chick was over in Washington and distracted Congress by getting anti-Harry Potter bills put into circulation and stole Thanksgiving for the Christians when no one was looking (thus violating the eighth Commandment, but when Jesus is on your side, this is irrelevant). If you think that theory sounds ridiculous, just read the tract.

The tract starts out with the host family putting the finishing touches on Thanksgiving dinner and not seeming too happy about it. In the next panel, some of “The mob” is getting out of the car, whining about hating the hostess's cooking, missing the football game, and having low blood sugar. Really, the little girl proclaims, out of the blue, “My blood sugar’s low.” And since Chick isn’t the kind of guy to stick pointless one-liners in his tract, we can only assume that children with low blood sugar are evil. Geez, I really have to read the Bible more often.

And then we get to see the rest of the family. Just look at this batch of sinners! They’re just a bunch of fat, ugly, drunk, drug-using, picture-taking homosexuals who’re definitely going to Hell in two shakes of the Devil’s pointed tail. Most noteworthy are the two kids who are comparing what kind of drugs they have on hand like they’re Pokemon cards (“I’ll take out your LSD with my Angel Dust and Marijuana!”)! Give me a break.

It gets worse from here. I can only speculate why a tract about the "real" meaning of Thanksgiving turned out like this. What I think happened is Chick was sitting around one night, trying to plan his next tract, and realized that he couldn’t top his last one. On one hand, he successfully tore down other religions, even destroying the symbol of the cross, which is no small feat for an active Christian. On the other hand, one of his Christian characters did allude to the fact that other religions have their good points, so I imagine regret mixed with the feeling of accomplishment and the pressure to do a better tract really got to him, so Jack Chick turned to drugs.

Well, to be specific, I think Chick took a few crushed capsules of Tylenol and mixed them with an old bottle of Zima (brought to a prayer meeting some years ago by an evil heathen poser) and took the whole concoction intravenously using a syringe he confiscated from a little girl who was using it for taking drugs. After some prodding, she accepted Jesus right there, which was good, because it turned out the syringe contained her insulin, and she died shortly thereafter. Of course, since it looks like having low blood sugar is evil, it’s probably just as well she kicked off before the dark influences of Satan tempted her back into his camp through insulin usage.

It didn’t take long for the shakes to begin, and as Chick’s entire body started furiously quaking, he started shouting out random plot elements. “Sinners… homosexuals… drug users… must destroy… use rock concert… no, Halloween… no, Catholic Church…no, Thanksgiving… Thanksgiving! That’s it!” He then proceeded to break out in maniacal laughter for half an hour, then tried to make the family cat fit into the VCR slot because he wanted to watch the Garfield movie and yell about how Garfield is an abomination sent to convince children that talking cat familiars are okay, and then ran down the street naked, screaming about how if he builds up enough steam, he can jump right into God’s lap. Again, though, this is only educated speculation. Back to the tract.

Just then, good ol’ Uncle Mortimer shows up, shouting his “Happy Thanksgiving!” greetings. Meanwhile, one of the redneck guests asks “Is that the same as ‘Turkey Day’?” Really. This is an indication of things to come. Aunt Lucy is thrilled to see him though, and for good reason: Mort’s loaded.

In the next panel, one of the guests comment on the situation: “Look at her – buttering up that old geek! She only does it ‘cause he’s rich.” In the foreground, we see an evil boy with a “Don’t trust anyone over 13” shirt (anarchy and violation of the fifth Commandment! Sinner!) dangling an innocent goldfish over the awaiting jaws of Fang the dog (not a sin, I guess, because he’s about to kill an animal, which doesn’t count), with one of the girls egging him on. A family of evil heathen sinners indeed. And here comes the most idiotic part.

One of the kids goes up to Mortimer and asks “Hey, Uncle Mort… What’s Thanksgiving? I never heard of it…” A moment of silence for the last tether that grounded Chick in reality… okay, that’s enough.

This is just stupid. “Thanksgiving” is the only way Thanksgiving is referred to. “Turkey Day” is a comical take on “Thanksgiving” and not at all meant as a replacement. Apparently, though, in the alternate universe where this tract takes place, “Thanksgiving” is a taboo word. This statement is solidified by one of the other kids, who claims “We can’t say ‘Thanksgiving’ in our school.”

Never in the history of our world has the term “Thanksgiving” been outlawed in any school I’ve been in. It’s not a religious holiday, it’s a national holiday, and there’s a hell of a difference. I will concede that at my high school, “Christmas” and “Easter” breaks were changed to “Winter” and “Spring” breaks, respectively, but that’s only because these two are Christian holidays, and the school didn’t want to offend anyone (no other institution in the country cares, though). And these changes were only made in print so there wouldn’t be a paper trail leading back to administration. Everyone in the human world referred to these events as “Christmas” and “Easter” because that’s what they were and no one really cared. Any school that forbids the term “Thanksgiving” in any context will be having a rather unpleasant appointment with me, whether they like it or not. I’ll be working on “Christmas” and “Easter” issues later.

Mort has that usual Chick tract stunned look and finds the situation “terrible” and asks Aunt Lucy if he can tell everyone a story. Lucy is aimed to please, but another redneck relative expresses his unhappiness about missing the game. I think this is a different guy, since the last one wore his hat differently, even though they both cursed in regards to missing their game. Either it’s the same guy or it must be a really good game.

In any case, another relative tells him to “Shut it off” because “The old guy’s loaded.” This Mortimer must be easy to please if he’s going to remember people who are willing to listen to his cockamamie stories when it comes time to draw up the ol’ will. Lucy announces that “Dinner isn’t ready yet… so our beloved Uncle Mortimer is going to tell us a story, now shut up and listen… please.”

Okay, kids, it’s time for a history lesson. Not just any history lesson, either, but a CHICK history lesson, so burn all of your other history books now, because if they say any different, they’re the words of Satan. Seriously, Chick didn’t bother citing sources, so we can only assume either God told what to say while he was on his drug trip or he was taking tidbits he remembered over his lifetime and plugged the holes with what he thought should happen.

This explanation of historical events is also interesting, because in an earlier tract, l’il Susy put down Miss Henn for teaching evolution as fact, even though she wasn’t there to witness it. Since the story of Thanksgiving isn’t in the Bible, Chick can’t fall back on that, so I’m not sure where he’s getting his facts, and he sure as hell wasn’t at the actual event (God doesn’t love him that much), so don’t take any of this as fact without a little more research.

Anyway, Mort sets the stage in England, where “There was a group of Christians, the Puritans, who wanted to worship God and reach the lost. They went to Holland to catch a boat to America.” I’m not sure how they’re supposed to reach “the lost” in America, where there really aren’t many people, but how smart can these people be when they’re impressed by overly-tradition Holland dress?

So the newly- dubbed Pilgrims grabbed a boat to the New World, and it sucked, because “They lived on rat-infested food” and “were dirty, cramped, and seasick.” This probably could have been avoided if those penny-pinching Puritans didn’t insist on cramming everyone into a single boat instead of renting out a second or third, but I eat at McDonalds when I could afford fancier fare like Subway, so I can’t talk.

To make matters worse, the winds blew them off course and they ended up on Plymouth Rock, without anyone “there to welcome them… but something watched them from behind the trees…” What this “something” is we never know, but given how sensitive Chick is to other cultures, I’m guessing he’s dehumanizing those crazy savage red skins.

It looked pretty bad for the Pilgrims, because “Where they landed were no houses, no restaurants - nothing but rocks, trees, and wild animals.” To think, if the Pilgrims stayed on course, they could have hit the Denny’s in Jamestown. What bugs me are the wild animals poised on the edge of the clearing, waiting to pick off some Pilgrims for a snack. It’s not this that bothers me (because we know animals are just godless bastards anyway). It looks like it’s pretty cold out there, so how can that snake be moving around, since it’s cold-blooded? Do they even have snakes in Plymouth Rock? Let’s just say this is Satan trying to trick stupid humans into eating bad fruit again and move on.

The Pilgrims managed to build shelters for the winter, “… but they were starving.” Fortunately for them, “God let them find corn that had been buried by Indians.”

There are a couple of issues with this statement. The first is the most obvious: instead of receiving food from the heathen Indians, “God let them find” it. This was my first reaction, since it’s entirely probably in Chick’s world, but it turns out there’s more to the story, so don’t get righteously indignant yet. That’s the other team’s job.

What bothers me more is how Christians are fanatically preaching the Bible as truth, yet none of the stuff that happens in it happens now. I’m talking about the obvious stuff, like seas parting and people walking on water. The Pilgrims faithfully and blindly crossed an ocean so they could worship God, so God rewards them by telling them where to find someone else’s corn so they can steal it. The Israelites, however, whine and bitch all through the desert after God freed them, and he doles out food for them without any effort on there part, and they still complain. So, Christians, why doesn’t God make his presence as obvious as he once did? Answer in one paragraph or less. I can think of an answer that’s four words long myself.

Even with God giving them the go-ahead to steal other people’s food, the Pilgrims were still in rough shape. Half of them were dead, the rest were sick, and food was again scarce. Or to put it another way, “The Pilgrims were doomed.” But they still prayed, and “Just when all seemed lost, someone stepped out from behind the trees that put them into shock…”

It was Jesus! God finally decided to reward his faithful by helping them out! Jesus cured the sick, raised the dead, and stole enough corn from those evil Indians to feed the Pilgrims for years, and… no, wait. By this time, Chick was coming down from his trip and decided to start using facts again. Well, kind of facts. That’s not to say that he didn’t like where his drug-induced ideas were going, so don’t think it’ll get much better from here.

No, actually “A kind Indian came out. He soon brought his friend Squanto - who spoke perfect English! Because of him, the Indians accepted the Pilgrims.”

My original published reaction to this was Chick was trying to say that God possessed one of those heathen savages and used his vessel to help his faithful indirectly. However, a couple of readers pointed out that the real-life Squanto did speak English because he was kidnapped not once, but twice by English explorers years before, so by the time he ran into the Pilgrims, Squanto was able to speak their language. Why he didn't just whack them with a stick after years of abuse by other white people is not known. For more information on Squanto, check out his Wikipedia entry. Thanks to my readers for pointing this out.

So the locals taught the Pilgrims to fish and farm, and by fall, they had themselves “the first Thanksgiving dinner” and “The Pilgrims praised God for letting them live. They honored and thanked God with all their hearts for bringing them to America.” And then they thanked the Native Americas by giving them disease, taking their land, and wiping out almost all of their population, cramming what was left into tiny, barren plots of wasteland, which is fine, because they’re evil heathen savages anyway. And that’s the true story behind Thanksgiving!

Back to now. Mort apparently won over one of the young heathens, who enthusiastically observes that “God really saved their necks.” Mort concurs, saying “they were in deep trouble. Just like we are today.”

Well, it turns out one of the evil kin doesn’t like THAT statement, as he gets in Mort’s face and yells “TROUBLE?! You’re nuts, old man! We’ve got it made - Mom, beer, and apple pie. We don’t need nuthin’ to save us!” In that case, we don’t have anything to worry about where are eternity is concerned, since we have “Mom, beer, and apple pie.”

Mort explains that “Thanksgiving was once our most honored day. But today it’s a joke… We’re not thankful for anything. And that offends God.” Uh, no, but thanks for the thought, Chick. I guess the birth and death of Christ takes a backseat to a bunch of guys who had to cross an ocean to go to church.

Mort warns that “When any nation stops being thankful and forgets God, it’s headed for judgment.” That’s creepy, but not as much as that creepy portrait in the background. What’s up with that?

Lucy storms in and makes Mort stop because he’s “ruining [they’re] dinner,” which they aren’t technically eating yet. I guess even butt kissers can only take so much crap coming at them before they remove their lips; the kid gloves are off. The entire family starts shouting blasphemies at Mort. Things like “There’s no God,” “That’s ‘cause he’s dead,” and “Kiss me.” That last one is true. Apparently, two of wicked relatives are gay, which is (it goes without saying) evil. Everyone’s pissed off, and Fruity McToot wants a kiss. Maybe verbal abuse gets him hot and steamy. Evil heathen.

Stupidly, Lucy allows Mort at the table. Brad, our soon-to-be-saved Ignorant Guy, asks “Am I wicked?” Mort tells him he is, “but Jesus took care of that.” One of the evil guests remarks “I hate that name” while the guy who flipped out on Mort before is thinking to himself “I’m too mad to eat” while stuffing a drumstick into his face, making him a liar and a glutton. There’s just no end to the wickedness of this family! God should be striking them down with fire any minute now…

Brad is confused about who this “Jesus” fellow is, and you better believe Mort’s going to explain it. And he does, with a panel of Jesus drawn in a similar way as Chick’s usual characters, making him look like a moron. Mort explains that “Everybody here will burn in hell when they die. They don’t love God or thank Him for anything. And they don’t care about Jesus.” Great way to make friends, Mort.

Brad points out that he cares and wants to know more about what Jesus did. The entire family stops stuffing their faces for a moment and are all waiting for his response. He explains that Jesus died on the cross for our sins and rose from the dead, pissing off all of the cartoon-like demons in Hell, who resort to using evil heathen demon curse words like “stupid.” Mort also explains that the only way he can receive this gift is if he accepts Jesus as his “Lord and Saviour.”

Brad shouts “I want Jesus! I need him. I don’t wanna go to hell with these guys.” Mort suggests they pray, which they do. Meanwhile, the family starts shouting insults at them, and Lucy tells informs them that she’s “so ashamed of you two” and “should never have invited you.” I could see not inviting Mort the Troublemaker, but who would have guessed the kid would wig out? I think Mort deserves the blame here.

And Brad is saved! But he wonders why his family is so pissed off at him, even though he just stated that they were all going to Hell. Mort puts it all in perspective by telling him “Because ‘There is no fear of God before their eyes.’” and “They’re lost because the devil has blinded them.” Meanwhile, a demon is literally covering Lucy’s eyes, saying they're not going to lose them.

This doesn’t make much sense. If Brad died on the way to dinner, he would be sent to Hell. Isn’t he blinded by Satan? Isn’t everyone? How do you reach anyone if they’re all blinded by Satan? I think it’s a lack of effort on the Christians’ part, or the fact that people hold different beliefs because of personal choice and not because the forces of evil are telling them to. Just a thought.

The entire family starts shouting more blasphemies, and one of the demons announces they’ll “have a wonderful party in hell!” In the next panel, we see Hell itself, which has a big banner that says “ALL PARTIES CANCELLED DUE TO FIRE" Ha, ha, ha! Those clever, conniving demons! What a lark!

We’re told that “The only smart one in the whole bunch was a kid. DO WHAT HE DID.” What else is there to say?

So now we know the true meaning of Thanksgiving: stealing food from other people because God said so. We also know the acceptable, Christian way of celebrating Thanksgiving is informing your wicked, sinning, drug-using homosexual family that they’re going to Hell. I know I’m going to try that this year!

I’m also excited about the next holiday-related Chick tract. My guess is it’ll be about the real meaning of Valentine’s Day. If I had to make an educated guess, I would say the plot would involve something along the lines of a guy named Saint Valentine (but not necessarily “Saint” as in title, since Chick would probably find that evil) wanted to follow the proper, Christian path and marry the love of his life and have dozens of children with her. He figure the best course of action would be to woo her with some candy, so he sailed across the ocean in a rowboat (because it had to be difficult for it to count as a Christian story) to America, where God let him find heart-shaped boxes of candy that had been buried by Indians.

Valentine then sailed back to wherever he was from in his dinky rowboat (which had a bad leak in it by now, and there was a hurricane halfway through the trip) and presented the chocolates to his sweetheart, who promptly agreed to marry him, even though he could have just as easily bought the exact same chocolates (without all that dirt covering them) in the local grocery store, but she figured she really shouldn’t question a guy who sailed to Atlantic ocean in a rowboat just to steal chocolates from foreigners.

Of course, the real, Christian meaning of Valentines Day has since been lost to the evil masses who hate God and believe other things only to spite him, not because he hasn’t made his presence known in the last two-thousand years or his devout followers are a bunch of wackos. Now, no one has ever heard of the term “Valentine's Day,” because it’s forbidden in schools. Instead, it’s something like Love Day (yes, Simpsons reference) or Chalky Heart Candy with Canned Affectionate Phrases on Them that No One Likes Day or something like that, and people are more concerned about whoring out their affections with those little mass-produced, soulless cards with pictures of licensed characters on them that are purchased in packs of 24 so we can spread the lustful love to everyone than thanking God. Only a few devout Christians know the true, modern meaning of Valentine’s Day, which is to be thankful to God for the four seconds of pleasure they receive while producing more offspring in a legal, God-sanctioned marriage, an action that will result in approximately 53 hours of straight prayer before the feeling of sin wears off. Thank God!

Or something like that. I’m not sure what combination of drugs Chick would have to take to get this result (probably crushed Aspirin and Viagra snorted in three lines straight), but I know it’ll be worth it.

All images are from Chick.com and are owned by them, as if anyone else would want to claim responsibility. If you want to check out this tract in its entirety, click here. If the address doesn't work, contact me immediately, since there's an off-chance our friendly Chickians decided to change the URL. What, they don't want MORE hits?