Via signsoflaughter.com

The city of Austin should be engorged with pride to know that we have reached a sufficient level of pride, not only to attract the international allure of Formula 1 racing, but also the brilliant performance art of Fred Phelps and the Westboro Baptist Players. (h/t Russell)

[WARNING: I’m in an extra sarcastic mood, so I kind of let loose verbally in this post. If you don’t want to read multiple alternatives to the word “penis,” you might not want to continue beyond this point.]

The Austin Chronicle gives us their media release explaining the crux of their upcoming performance:

WBC will picket Formula 1 racing at The Circuit of The Americas in Austin, TX to remind this nation that God hates the vwicked people of this land of vain idolaters and that they shall be turned into Hell. These sporting events resemble the patriotic worship-the-flag pep rallies masquerading as sodlier’s funerals in that this Bible-ignorant fools worship these race car drivers like they are little gods! Shame on these people for worshipping these athletes instead of following the plain commandments of their God. They ought to obey today before it is too late. WBC knows they will not, never the less, we will kindly warn them to flee the wrath to come. These are the last days of all, Doomed america. Wake up before you find yourselves cast into the deep pit of endless fire! [sic]

Note the strategically-placed spelling errors and the avante garde disregard for pedestrian grammar rules. Yes, the Phelps clan will be bringing their unique artistic stylings to the Circuit of the Americas, where they can spread their message of Dadaist non-conformity to the elite racing fans of Europe and other places where people have enough money to charter their own helicopters.

I’m pretty sure that I’m onto Phelps’ game. He purports to be some batshit-insane provincial preacher with a bug up his ass about what other people do with their asses. In service of his inability to stop thinking about the fact that some men are sexually aroused by other men’s wangs, he has recruited his entire family to travel the nation advertising the fact that he cannot get the thought of erect dongs ejaculating onto hairy backs out of his mind. We are all treated to the results of what a lifelong obsession with pork-swordsmanship can do to the human mind.

As a result, we are all horrified that a human being would go to such lengths to let us know that he doesn’t like his own inability to stop wishing that he had his own small army of twinks to follow him around on the road and slap his face with their, uh,……I’m running out of slang here. Look, the dude can’t stop thinking about dick, okay? I don’t give a shit, but it’s obviously a big deal to him.

As I was saying, we are horrified that people would turn on soldiers and other servicemembers and some of the most beloved icons of our culture in the service of “hating fags.” (I’m not sure what cigarettes have to do with this, but whatever.) This horror inspires people to reevaluate their own prejudices and opinions, and they realize that maybe LGBT people are just people, too. It just took this wacky hayseed closet case to make them realize it.

In short, Fred Phelps has probably turned more people away from homophobia through the sheer force of his own assholery (multi-level pun intended) than a great many initiatives explicitly directed at building tolerance. (I have no evidence for this assertion, but it’s truthy.) Therefore, I say that Fred Phelps is a brilliant performance artist in the service of tolerance and acceptance. If there is a hell, I hope that Fred Phelps spends eternity there receiving the full gratitude of the people who have benefitted from his insanity.

Also, Austin, Texas rules!!!

Photo credit: Via signsoflaughter.com.