Fred Phelps and the Southern Baptists

Imagine, for a second, that you are a parent of a college student. You get a call from some hospital that says they have your child there. There has been a shooting and your child has been shot. You rush to the hospital and find out that your child is dead. Shot by a crazed gunman.

Or imagine, for a second, that you get a visit from the police on a Saturday afternoon. Your daughter has been the victim of a robbery at Lane Bryant. Gee, she had gone there to get some clothes, and you were wondering where she was, but figured she stopped off at a friend's house. The police tell you that your daughter is dead. Shot in the head by a robber.

A few people had the misfortune of having the above nightmares come true for them during the past two weeks. As a parent, I can only imagine their grief. No, on second thought, I don't even want to imagine it. Not even for a second.

Now imagine that you are going to bury your child - something that no parent ever should have to do. And at the funeral, a bunch of inbred, pieces of garbage led by a self-loathing closet homosexual decide to make your child's funeral a media event for their twisted and sick "message." These people hold up signs that pretty much say your child deserved to die because he or she went to a school that once hosted a homosexual speaker. Or shopped at a store that sold clothes to transvestites.

Funerals are the last vestige of tradition we have left. Most people realize that, in order to maintain a civilized society, we need to have some things that are respected. Funerals used to be one of them. But not anymore. Now they are used by Fred Phelps and his gang of misfits to gain publicity for his "church" and spread their convoluted beliefs.