I'm Bringing Scuttle Back

Sorry to be out of the loop so long, folks. Computer crash. While I was out I got a ton of fan mail of the "Where the hell are you, you old fart?" variety, as well as people bitching that I wasn't posting anything. Well, frying a hard drive is about as much fun as passing a kidney stone, but it has its advantages (the former, not the latter).

For one, it got my nether regions out from the computer and back outside. Since the crash, I have been smelling more roses, smoking more camels, shooting more hoops with the punks around the block who can't keep their pants above their drawers, watching more war films, and shooting more Seagram's - all of which have done wonders for my prayer life.

But against Blanche's wishes, I got my laptop fixed, and I'm back online like a bad penny. I guess I won't be getting any creme brulee tonight. Oh well, she'll get over it. If not, I'll just have to "get my house in order" and "teach her a thing or two about the order of creation" (you married men know exactly what that means - a costly call to 1-800-FLOWERS).

So, just a few random thoughts to get me back on the front lines...

I don't get all the hand wringing about this Imax fellow talking about "nappy headed hoes." Hell, I think he stole the expression from me. That's what I've been calling Matt Harrison for a couple years now.

Speaking of Harrison, word on the street is the Bronzies want to run him for 8th vice president or some such this summer. I think the conservative political types should have some fun and nominate Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck. They've got about as much a chance of beating Jerry Mander Kieschnick as anyone else. Face the music, fellas, if Jerry can't dazzle them with brilliance... Besides, how many "exceptions" is he up to now? Of course, if the LCMS can base its entire theology on exceptions, why can't Kieschnick do the same with his election? I'm not saying his original election was illegitimate (wink wink), but let's just say my motto (which I picked up from Vinegar Joe Stillwell back in Dubya Dubya Eye Eye) is "Illegitimi Non Carborundum). Besides, Satan is licking his chops waiting for Herman Otten to die so he can collect on the deal he cut with him to secure the arch-episcopacy for Bubba in the first place (thanks, Herm, I hope you didn't spend your entire thirty pieces all in one place).

The best advice I can offer LCMS conservatives is put your head between your legs and pucker up. I suggest: 1) stay home from the coronation, er, convention, 2) drink, and 3) pray the breviary, and 4) drink some more. Your time would be better spent hitting yourself in the nuts with a ball bat than going to Houston this summer.

In other LCMS news, I hear that CPH is discontinuing the new hymnal (that wretched Lutheran Worship). It's about time. The bad news is that they're also going to stop publishing TLH, and will not be releasing it into public domain! So the suits over at the Communist Publishing House will not be selling it, nor will they allow anyone else to do the same. Greedy bastards. When they outlaw TLH, I will be an outlaw. They can pry it out of my cold, dead hands. Oh well, if Paul McCain decides to sue me for using the Forty One, I can always just back off and use the 1928 Book of Common Prayer. It's in the public domain, since the Anglicans see themselves as part of the Church Catholic instead of just being a petty, smarmy corporation trying to turn a buck. I guess they also have bigger "fruits" to fry than worrying about whether or not someone photocopies a collect.

And what's this I hear Art Just is losing his job as the Dean of Kramer? I hear some Saint Loonie bureaucrat is going to be in charge. Oh crap. It won't take long now. Oh well, maybe the fellas at Fort Wayne can work out some kind of a compromise. Maybe "Shine Jesus Shine" won't sound so bad in Gregorian chant. I'm sure Ben Mayes will be working on that shortly. I dunno, if I were Dino Wenthe, I wouldn't be buying any green bananas. It looks like it's "play guitar or get off the pot" time at the Fort. Somebody needs to send me the first pic of Dick Resch with a tamborine. Maybe we can look forward to Mick Jagger crooning "You Turned My Wailing Into Dancing" with the Henry Gerike Variety Show Singers. No wonder Billy Bob Weinrich got the hell out of Dodge. Don't expect to see any new icons at Kramer any time soon, Bill - unless the Purpose Driven Life(tm) crowd comes out with a set of Stations of the Cross.

And what's this I hear Scott Klemsz has also gotten the ax? Has the seminary lost its frigging mind? If it weren't for For the Life of the World, the official publications of the LCMS and its seminaries would have less literary integrity than Charles Darwin's chimps randomly pounding keys at typewriters (which, I suppose, is one way to describe the CCM and the CTCR...). There's some bizarre, kinky stuff happening at Fort Wayne, and I'm not talking about what goes on in the Coors Lite Suite at Showgirls XVII. Oh well, I do still get the Distorter and the Lutheran Witless - a fella's gotta line the bird cage with something. You can only absorb so much parakeet guano with printouts of goofy Ablaze!(tm) e-mails from Bill Diekelman.


I also hear that John Fenton has swum the Bosphorus - and you should hear the howls from the LCMS. I say, good for John. I'm not much of a swimmer myself (I root for Army and can't even get my soap to float), but when I read about these kinds of feats of strength and endurance, I gotta tip my hat. To be honest, I think it's an old fashioned case of jealousy. Most LCMS clergy I run into are lucky to get their ample cabooses across the parish hall for their fourth piece of pie before collapsing, out of breath, clutching their chests, and screaming: "Somebody call 911 and make sure there's plenty of ice cream on that last slice!" It's pathetic! And the younger pastors are the worst. If the LCMS ever folds, most of the clergy roster could find work touring with the local circus freak shows or entering professional eating competitions. So, Fenton, don't let these wheezing pachyderms with "too much junk in the trunk" give you grief. In fact, I'd like to see a few synodical types try to swim the Mississippi, and if "Yankee Stadium" Benke wants to have a go of going over the Niagara Falls in a barrel, I'll be there with the camcorder. In the mean time, keep up the good work, John-Boy!


I got a note from this kid Joel Brondos regarding a society that has something to do with felt church banners. He wants my opinion. Okay, I'll take the bait. Let me check it out. I'm sure it sucks, and it will only drive me to the bottle. But in the interest of journalistic and ecclesiastical integrity, I'll do it. I think I better get a fresh fifth of So-Co before I start. I can feel the hangover already.


Brondos also asks about my surname. For a long time, I thought it was German, but it seems that the venerable moniker "Scuttlebutt" goes back to the middle ages, and is rooted in Latin and Old Norse. It was originally Sodalitasbyti. "Sodalitas" is Latin, and may be translated as "family" (it's where "sodality" comes from). "Byti" is Old Norse, and it can be translated "jewels" or "valuables" (it's where "booty" comes from). So "Scuttlebutt" is actually a Latin/Viking name which means "family jewels."

And while I'm sharing Scuttlebutt history, I ran across this old shot of me while serving my first call. It kind of makes me misty-eyed for the days before Ablaze!(tm), ten minute Kyries, and LCMS elderettes: