A wayward flock means a busy ministry, and there are fewer flocks as wayward as the devotees of the Church Of The Last Movie Outpost. Look at you all. You are positively dripping in cinematic sin. I have seen this much dripping since I visited Kamala’s campaign headquarters on November 4th a storm damaged the roof of our church this past hurricane season. Never saw any FEMA representatives though. You must have scared them all away.
The roof is fixed, but your souls remain damaged, which is why it falls once again to me, the most reverend Reverend, to cleanse your filthy conscience.
The doors of the Last Movie Outpost Confession Booth are once again spread wide open, ready to receive your load of sin. Once you have unloaded, and become unburdened by what has been, you shall feel like a new Ouposter. First, you must prepare yourself for the coming of the Goddess, who is ready to receive your confession. She approaches… snd she appears to have an itchy tongue, or something:
This confession will delve into your dark, cinema-going past and you shall be judged on your movie memories. Will your hazy recollections of a time before be enough to satisfy the ravenous hunger of the Goddess? Today’s confession is this:
What movie-going experience of your past would the kids not believe today?
Mine would be that you did not, could not, buy a ticket or reserve a seat online. You used to have to turn up, sometimes quite some time before a showing (the times of which you got from your local newspaper once a week) and you stood in a queue. Sometimes a very, very long queue.
There’s more. If the movie was really popular, sometimes the queue would be halfway around the block. And you had no idea if you were actually going to get in.
As the showtime approached, with trepidation, you inched forward hoping against hope that you made it to the box office before the manager came out with the dreaded “House Full” sign and you had to wait until the next showing in more than two hours, or gamble and go and do something else until it was time to join the queue and start again.
Kids today simply will not believe us when we tell them this.
Your turn, my sinning flock. You must confess. CONFESS!