When the apocalypse comes, I’m going to eat Jim Bakker first. That despicable little rodent is back, and this time he’s trying to hawk party supplies for the end-times. What would Jesus hoard?
The end of the world is coming.
And you’re gonna need food. A lot of food.
That’s where Jim Bakker comes in.
Yes, that Jim Bakker—as in Jim and Tammy Faye and “The PTL Club” television empire.
Yes, the selfsame Jim Bakker who, at the time of his epic fall from grace, seemed to embody all those deeply Christian and quintessentially American values broadcast globally by that fascinating genus of human being we call “the televangelist.”
Their holy trinity—a tax-free entrepreneurial spirit, a convenient confusion of “praying on” with “preying upon” and a devout belief that devout belief is a God-given market opportunity—keeps them rolling in clover until they inevitably get caught rolling in the hay.
But, as self-described “sinners” perpetually washed in the blood of a radical, 2000 year-old rabbi, they’ve always got the ultimate get-out-of-moral-peril-for-free card tucked up their finely-tailored sleeves. For the upwardly mobile Evangelical, forgiveness is always at hand.
So, emulating the classic Christian motif, Jim has done his time and he’s risen again to take to the airwaves. Now re-married to another bubbly-blonde co-host, he’s once-again spreading the word of God.
Well, he’s willing to spread the word of God, if you are willing to spread his “favorite” soy-nut butter.
That’s just one of the hard bargains Jim’s driving in his new incarnation as survivalist food pitchman. In fact, Jim’s got a whole catalog of foodstuffs that he is willing to “give” you as a “thank you” in return for your “love gift” to his “ministry.”
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