This is the end...return of disgraced holy man...wanna buy a cabin?

Yeah, yeah, happy freaking Tuesday to you too. Let’s get to it, shall we?

Disgraced Holy Man Jim Bakker is at it again! Over the past year, we here at CCB have done two posts on Bakker as he emerged from beneath whatever rock quoting ominous biblical verses about end times and trying to hawk survivalist food (comes in buckets) to the irretrievably paranoid.

So, what do you do when you have a warehouse full of high-dollar five-gallon buckets of freeze-dried squirrel casserole, the half-life of which can match that of the most radioactive isotope? Why, you reinvent the purpose for your “food”, lower the price slightly, and remarket it, that’s what you do!

I’ll give this to Bakker; the dude is a genius at reinventing himself and his “mission.”

For those readers too young to recall Jim Bakker (version 1.0), I offer the following brief recap of his sordid past. Brother Jim was a televangelist who truly, truly ruled the world, or his version of it from South Carolina back in the ‘80’s. The guy, along with his garishly made-up wife at the time, Tammy Faye, had their own nationally broadcast show called the PTL Club. The club offered an hour (maybe more, I can’t remember, I’m trying to forget) of Jim and Tammy Faye predicting the end of times and begging for more cash.

In the end (of their times), the Feds closed in when it was discovered that a LOT of the cash people were donating to the ministry was being siphoned off by the Bakkers to fund their lavish lifestyle. At around the same time, it was revealed that Brother Jim was having an affair with his church secretary, Jessica Hahn (whole other story there). Jim Bakker went to prison, Tammy Faye divorced his broke-dick ass…the end. At least you’d think it was the end.

In the latest reboot of the Jim Bakker saga (we must be at version 13.0 now), he is now trying to sell people cabins in the Ozark mountains, which he claims is the safest place for folks to ride out the apocalypse. Hmmmmm.

I’ve always felt the safest place for me when the crap hits the fan (be it an apocalypse – zombie or otherwise; an errant NoKo missile; and/or simply The Trump having a meltdown and launching a pre-emptive strike on the U.S.) is here at The Compound.

Seriously, it’s heavily fortified with back-up power. There is an excellent source of water that is not likely to run out soon. There is even a hidey-hole in the ground to take cover if needed.

I’m staying.

As Cousin Fred and I were discussing the latest Bakker soon-to-be debacle, CF indicated he is perfectly happy in his underground lair (we refer to it as Das Boot) on the north lawn of The Compound. He shares that with the hairdressing hydrologist Gigi and they’re perfectly happy out there. Cousin Fred bought some samples of Bakker’s survivalist food a year or so ago. Although he didn’t try the Opossum Surprise, he said that everything was freeze-dried and had to be reconstituted and generally ranked up there with wet cardboard. He wasn’t impressed, though he did say that the buckets were nice. He currently uses his for making beer underground.

Now, there’s a survivalist food…the nutritional value of a pork chop in every glass!

Brother Bakker though is trying to sell you a cabin in the mountains, along with the opportunity to stock said cabin with the following items (take notes, people): his special brand of Extreme Survival Warfare Water (six 28-ounce bottles for $150); a special generator package ($4,100); 7 years of special survival food including buckets of Opossum Surprise ($2,200); the When Nature Calls Bundle (a bucket equipped with a toilet seat and six – count ‘em – SIX rolls of toilet paper - $100); and, for those of you with a sweet tooth a bundle of dried fruit with a 20-year shelf life ($450).

Dang, now that’s high livin’!

Of course, there’s no mention yet as to the cost of the cabins, which I’m guessing does not include indoor plumbing given that he’s pushing the whole toilet in a bucket thing. In typical Bakker fashion, he won’t set the price or even discuss the availability of the cabins until he has a good measure of any interest in the project.  

I guess if he can’t sell the real estate (which he probably doesn’t even own at this point), he’ll have to find some other way to unload the warehouse of buckets o’ food. I have no doubt that he’ll pull it off. The man has skillz!
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That is all!

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