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There simply aren’t words to describe these stories, so it’s best if you read them for yourself.

According to their website:

When you find it difficult to find that right gift for that special someone, give the Gospel Hankie Card, you will not only be giving a gift; you will be giving a witness at the same time.

That is why we here at Pocket Witness say… “Don’t just give a gift, give a witness”

And while you’re shopping for these be sure to also check out the the Wordless Book suspenders, the Jack Chick Belt Buckles, and the +4 Boots of Altar Calls.

(Ok, I made those last ones up. I blame it on the disorienting effect of staring at the gospel tie for too long.)

After losing his eye, Ron Hamilton girded up his fundamentalist loins, donned an eye patch, and and took on the persona of “Patch the Pirate”, a hero who sailed the seas with his crew of kids and assorted talking animals, learning good moral lessons, and singing catchy tunes.

Strangely, although some of his tunes are pulled almost straight out of secular songs, Ron’s music is still quite popular in fundamentalist circles. He’s even called to teach at the Hyles Anderson Pastor’s School. It doesn’t get much more fundy than that.

But no matter what else he has done or will do, Ron Hamilton will always bear the distinction of being the man who wrote the song I Want To Marry Daddy When I Grow Up, the creepiest fundamentalist children’s song ever penned. And that’s quite something.

Most important is the atmosphere that its presence creates. This is vital. For despite the movie containing Catholic nuns, guitar playing, and dancing, for some reason it is universally accepted as a ‘wholesome’ film in fundamentalist circles. Having it lying next to the TV says to any fundy visitor “We watch good movies in this house. Look, the Sound of Music is our FAVORITE!”

There may also come a time when a church member or visiting evangelist or missionary may be at your house for several hours and a the suggestion of watching a film may be proffered to pass the time. Having The Sound of Music easily accessible saves the danger of opening up the movie cabinet and laying it bare for fundamentalist scrutiny. If the tape is properly positioned, it can be unsheathed and playing in 5.8 seconds flat. On the other side of the equation, one of the joys of being a missionary is the opportunity to watch this classic musical every few weeks and learn every word by heart.

“The hills are alive….”

As with most things fundamentalist, there are rules that must be followed for the restaurant prayer:

- The prayer must be loud. Prayers who mumble into their fried chicken will be assumed to be ashamed of the gospel. Bellow it out or run the risk of being called a compromiser.

- The prayer must be long. A simple “bless this food” will never do. Running out of things to say? Pray for the hands that prepared it. Pray for the digestion of the people eating it. Pray for the missionaries from who’s country it originally came. If the food is still hot by the time the prayer is done, he has failed.

- The prayer must use biblical words and phrases. Phrases like “Jehovah-Jireh” and “countenance” are a must for the restaurant prayer. This is no prayer of a neophyte. This is the only chance some folks will ever have to hear someone actually using 17th Century English and that isn’t a thing to be taken lightly.

- There must be hand-holding. Grab the sweaty palm of the person next to you and hang on for dear life. Try not to think about where their hand has been and the fact that you’re getting ready to eat. The one exception to the hand-holding rule of restaurant prayer may be if there are two people in the circle who are dating and seated next to each other. Perhaps grabbing the edges of the same napkin or holding the ends of a knife will suffice to let the circle be unbroken without the need for gratuitous hand-holding.

Fundamentalists believe that the King James Version of the Bible is the only accurate translation that has been preserved for English speakers. They believe this so firmly that they are willing to separate from other churches and groups who don’t use the King James. Then through some strange cognitive dissonance, they also spend years in church basements learning the original languages to enable them to explain what the Greek really means in English.

“In the original languages,” the pastor will intone “This verb “to sit” is really a pluperfect subjunctive. This means that the original author really meant “he will have sat at some point in the future perhaps but has not actually sat yet nor will he sit until the present time is over.” One is left to wonder how those incredibly bright King James translators missed out on all of this detailed material that is so vital to the second point of the pastor’s sermon.

Ask any fundamentalist and they’ll tell you that the King James is as absolutely perfect as gold purified seven times — as long as you’ve got a fundamentalist pastor there to tell you what the original Greek says, that is.