Smokey Mountain Breakdown

There is this ad playing ad nauseum on one of the local top 40 radio stations that's been setting my teeth on edge. Every time it starts, I switch over to NPR's Begathon. It's so incredibly east Tennessee.

A young woman's quite reasonable voice interrupts my listening pleasure of Lady GaGa with:

Be famous...for God!

WTF?

She goes on to explain that I might not be happy with the current role models coming out of Hollywood and that if I think I can do anything...any old thing at all along the lines of singing, dancing, modeling--maybe yodeling that I should show up for this enormous cattle call for a Christian talent agency. (Which is all fine and dandy except this so isn't how this is done.) So...

Be famous...for God!

She tells me Christian actors and models are taking Hollywood by storm! It's revolution! (Obviously the invasion hasn't begun, or they'd know by now exactly how many days of LA sunshine it took before their Christian soldiers were snorting coke off a 21 year-old blond's firm buttocks. I swear, there's something in the bean sprouts out there...)

God evidently wants me to be famous. I wonder if God has his own photographer that He will insist I use for a modest fee of around 800 dollars. Or if God runs His own acting/modeling school on the side He might insist I enroll in. I wonder what sort of signing fees God is charging these days? And what's His cut?

I think this is Porn & Donuts fodder for sure--right up there with the Christian sex toys trade.