I think a time-traveling Bob Odenkirk made it into the last one: http://cl.ly/image/3D461I2Y0u3g

...that you KNOW of!

Another decent point! But... man, can you imagine the odd sensation of being that dude and, like, shopping around for denominations after THE ALPHA AND THE OMEGA talked to him?

Interesting! But aren't there less confusing branches of Christianity to go with? Like, Episcopalianism (a) DOES have all those nasty weirdos who don't like icky gays and ladies, and (b) is doctrinally elusive.

OF COURSE, I am speaking as a near-total outsider. My mom renounced her faith in college and I was raised as a Reform Jew, which is about half a step away from going full Unitarian Universalist.

My mom's Episcopalian church recently got a new minister and everyone was very proud that he was a convert... from Judaism! It made their congregation a special Anglican-offshoot snowflake, I guess. Anyway: In his first sermon, the minister told of how he came to see The Light. He'd been on a boat and a sudden storm hit (yeah yeah, tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme) and he saw a vision of Jesus (seriously, this kind of god-near-a-boat story was happening before Jesus was even invented), who told him he would be spared death at sea if he would go spread the good word. So after he toweled off a few hours later, he decided to upgrade to Christianity.

But like... okay. Let's think about that for a sec. Let's say you had an experience in which Literal Actual Talking Jesus of Nazareth From The Bible And Everything says something to you and asks you to become one of His followers. You might do it, right? But with a crazy, emotive event like that, wouldn't your two main options be (a) Catholicism (given that it's the Big Kahuna with all the history and power and shiny things) or (b) charismatic/nondenominational/evangelical (given that those veins are all about personal, one-on-one-chat relationships with Yeshua)? Why would you go with a denomination so wishy-washy that it's an *offshoot* of ANGLICANISM???

WHO THE FUCK *SEES GOD* AND DECIDES TO BECOME EPISCOPALIAN.

Mallory, I've been a fan of your writing for a long time, but this is the first piece of yours that has moved me to tears. I am currently at work, and the saltwater of release and understanding is flowing from my eyes. I know I've lived a privileged, blessed life, so I try not to complain. But just for a moment, allow me to suspend my perpetual self-opprobrium.

Childhood was very difficult for me. I was obese, extremely effeminate, very opinionated, enamored of antiquated figures of speech, and (obviously) bullied. My mother also gave me the curse of empathy, meaning I could never bring myself to hate the Nelsons of my life, and instead wasted time trying to get them to understand me and vice versa. I always had, at most, one friend.

In short, the only two characters in fiction who offered me any mirror-recognition were Bobby Hill and Martin Prince. To be honest, I didn't even understand why they were outcasts within the contexts of their universes. They always seemed so wonderful to me. Why wouldn't everyone else? In subsequent years, I've thought at length about Bobby (a vision of budding genderqueer fluidity if there ever was one), but I never analyzed Martin. Thanks to you, he is now prancing and tritzing through my head, telling me, "An honest life is its own reward."

Anyway. Thank you. You're one of my favorite people on this dumb ol' Internet of ours, and this essay is something I'll cherish for a long time.

Abe