Jack Chick and his Weirdness
1 05 2008These things were a somewhat regular fixture in my young life. 
Anyone else? Are these things actually effective? Do people believe them and think they portray any kind of reality? Or are they brilliantly auto-ironic, intended instead to skewer those who believe the world really is so simple? Ah, nevermind. 
So the message is — do drugs, get into heaven. Sounds like a plan…
Several years ago I visiting my parents and went with my grandmother to the Super Walmart. We were getting into the checkout line and I realized I’d forgotten something my mother had requested, and dashed off to grab it. I was back in two minutes, and my grandmother, who speaks a little English but reads none, handed me a Chick tract describing Hinduism as human-sacrificing devil worship and asked what it was. I was so furious that I couldn’t marshal enough of her language to explain it to her — and given her happy outlook on life and where she lives, her conviction that everyone is friendly and kind, I didn’t want to explain it.
After I calmed down, I had to wonder at what kind of person would keep that particular tract on him in a town where less than 1% of the population could possibly be Hindu. I imagined him as having a jacket like the guys who sell fake watches on Canal Street in New York, with a dozen internal pockets in which to keep his dubious wares, except instead of muttering “Rolex, I got Omega, Cartier,” he mumbles, “Witchcraft, abortion, I got your Dungeons & Dragons…”
Several years ago I visiting my parents and went with my grandmother to the Super Walmart. We were getting into the checkout line and I realized I’d forgotten something my mother had requested, and dashed off to grab it. I was back in two minutes, and my grandmother, who speaks a little English but reads none, handed me a Chick tract describing Hinduism as human-sacrificing devil worship and asked what it was. I was so furious that I couldn’t marshal enough of her language to explain it to her — and given her happy outlook on life and where she lives, her conviction that everyone is friendly and kind, I didn’t want to explain it.
After I calmed down, I had to wonder at what kind of person would keep that particular tract on him in a town where less than 1% of the population could possibly be Hindu. I imagined him as having a jacket like the guys who sell fake watches on Canal Street in New York, with a dozen internal pockets in which to keep his dubious wares, except instead of muttering “Rolex, I got Omega, Cartier,” he mumbles, “Witchcraft, abortion, I got your Dungeons & Dragons…”