Two days after September 11, Falwell fingered those who were responsible. “I know that I’ll hear from them for this. But, throwing God out successfully with the help of the federal court system, throwing God out of the public square, out of the schools. The abortionists have got to bear some burden for this because God will not be mocked. And when we destroy 40 million little innocent babies, we make God mad. I really believe that the pagans, and the abortionists, and the feminists, and the gays and the lesbians who are actively trying to make that an alternative lifestyle, the ACLU, People for the American Way — all of them who have tried to secularize America — I point the finger in their face and say you helped this happen“.
Apartheid supporter and human blimp Jerry Falwell is dead at 73. Luckily for him, there’s no such place as hell.
Wonkette already went ahead and ran this infamous bit of nostalgia from Hustler magazine, but I thought I’d pile on anyway. It’s still pretty funny twenty years later.
Jerry Falwell: My first time was in an outhouse outside Lynchburg, Virginia.
Interviewer: Wasn’t it a little cramped?
Falwell: Not after I kicked the goat out.
Interviewer: I see. You must tell me all about it.
Falwell: I never really expected to make it with Mom, but then after she showed all the other guys in town such a good time, I figured, “What the hell!”
Interviewer: But your Mom? Isn’t that a bit odd?
Falwell: I don’t think so. Looks don’t mean that much to me in a woman.
Interviewer: Go on.
Falwell: Well, we were drunk off our God-fearing asses on Campari, ginger ale and soda—that’s called a Fire and Brimstone—at the time. And Mom looked better than a Baptist whore with a $100 donation.
Interviewer: Campari in the crapper with Mom . . . how interesting. Well how was it?
Falwell: The Campari was great but Mom passed out before I could come.
Interviewer: Did you ever try it again?
Falwell: Sure. Lots of times. But not in the outhouse. Between Mom and the shit, the flies were too much to bear.
Interviewer: We meant the Campari.
Falwell: Oh, yeah, I always get sloshed before I go out to the pulpit. You don’t think I could lay down all that bullshit sober, do you?