Praise the Lord. Praise God in His electorate. Praise Him in His mighty nation. Praise Him in His city on the hill. Praise Him in His two-party republic. Praise Him in the heavens, praise Him on the Earth, for He has made our name great among the nations. We will remember His deeds, for He has called us by name.
For His steadfast colonialism, praise Him. For manifest destiny, praise Him. For His unceasing acts of benevolent mercy, and/or vengeant wrath — yesterday, today and for all eternity — praise Him. In all things, praise Him. Praise Him for His love, joy, peace, patience, smallpox blankets, kindness, goodness, whooping cough, influenza, the Winchester repeating rifle, land grabs, states’ rights, the Trail of Tears, cheap labor, free labor, forced labor, leg irons, bullwhips, lynchings, faithfulness, internment camps, mushroom clouds, napalm, suspicion, drone warfare, whatever is worse than waterboarding, gentleness, and self-control.
Praise Him with the sounding of the Trump. Praise Him with calling the harpy a liar. Keep us as the apple of your eye, oh Lord; hide us in the shadow of your right wing. For leaders who trust in wealth, praise Him. For candidates who boast in their great riches, praise Him. For one small loan of a million dollars, praise Him. It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a wealthy man to enter heaven. Now that we can afford to build a bigger needle and paint it in gold and open a casino underneath it, problem solved.
Praise Him. Praise the Lord with exceeding wealth. Praise Him with declarations of bankruptcy. Praise Him with exceeding wealth all over again. Invest, rinse, repeat. His mercies are new every morning.
Praise Him with lending unto Caesar what is Caesar’s. Praise Him if you’re too smart for all that. How precious to me are your tax deductions, oh God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand.
Praise Him for a candidate whose values we despise, but whose contempt for the media and political correctness we despise much less — in fact, it makes us feel better about our persecution complex.
Praise Him for the Three in One — one state of holy matrimony, three times and counting. Praise Him in the men’s locker room. Praise Him in the women’s dressing room. Praise Him for His works of beauty, may they come of age quickly. Praise Him for His works of beauty, may they not gain 12 pounds. Praise Him for his works of beauty, pass the Tic Tacs. With your grabbing hand, praise Him.
Praise Him for philandering husbands, if only to pin it on the wife. Praise Him, for it is easier to hate a woman than to distrust a man whose hates women. Praise Him for a woman in leadership — we needed someone to blame.
For the second amendment, praise Him. For the right to bear arms, praise Him. For the inalienable right to easily obtain and modify assault weapons, Praise Him. For cold, dead hands, Praise Him. As far as the east is from the west, so has He removed from our consciences any responsibility for the bodies piling up in our homes and classrooms and public squares. Praise Him.
Praise Him for enormous walls that can be seen from space. Praise Him for deportation. Deport unto others as you would have them deport unto you. He has healed the brokenhearted, He has set the captives free — to make more room for undocumented workers. Praise Him.
Praise Him for devout voters held in the grip of black-robed terror. The fear of liberal Supreme Court justices is the beginning of wisdom. Praise Him for small government. Salvation may be the original free handout, but we don’t want to reward lazy bums. Praise Him for big business; inheriting the Earth is no job for the meek.
Raise a gavel at daybreak in the house of the poor. Raise a wall to greet the refugees each morning. Raise a sharp rock in the company of women who did not carry to term. Raise a hand to your family, they need a strong leader. Raise a hand to your wife, she should know better. Let everything that has breath praise the Lord. Let my adversaries lose their breath. Let outspoken women lose their breath. Let the Race of Hoodlums and the Race of Job-Stealing Rapists and the Race of Terrorists lose their breath. Let everything that has no breath die face-down on the sidewalk.
If God is for us, who can campaign against us? Praise the Lord in the voting booth. Praise Him in the exit polls. Praise Him when the ship goes down — with God, all things are possible. Our God is a yuuuuuuuge God. Praise Him.
— Rev. Jeff Breakfast