Editor’s note: For those unfamiliar with Mr. Haden’s sense of humor, this column is a satire.
The recent incarceration of Kim Davis for refusing to issue marriage licenses to same-sex couples was certainly the biggest thing to happen in that part of Kentucky since they built the fire tower near Clearfield in 1946. Most of the news coverage focused on what Kim Davis did and not who Kim Davis is.
While behind bars in Carter County, the embattled official happened to read some of that coverage in her hometown paper, The Morehead News. To tell her own story, Mrs. Davis began writing the following letter in the margins of the newspaper, continued it on Dairy Queen burger wrappers supplied by a friendly trusty and concluded it on a pad her attorneys were using to cast what they told her will be a blockbuster movie based on her life.
Unfortunately, her six-day sentence wasn’t long enough to actually smuggle the letter out of jail for publication. Instead, an ambitious jailer found the scraps and started calling a list of periodicals to sell the document for top dollar. By the time he worked his way down to the Ws, the battery on his Jitterbug phone was almost gone and he agreed to allow us to publish the letter for nothing just so he could get home in time to hear the Coach Mark Stoops radio call-in show. The Wisconsin Rapids Daily Tribune’s loss is Weld’s gain.
Dear World,
This is Kimberly Jean. I know you have been keeping up with my historical battle against minions of Satan masquerading as nancy boys in love, but I feel like I need to set the record straight, if not straighter.
The first thing that I think will clarify my important political stand is that I do not actually look like my newspaper photographs. I saw what they were running in The Morehead News and I think you should know that they were all taken on my least flattering sides. Also, I had had an ungratifying session at Super Cuts the previous week, where Jocelyn usually gives me the wash and dry, but for some reason I wound up with that woman from Moombye or Moonpie or whatever that city in India is, and I think we all know that non-Christians trying to landscape a head of good Christian hair are doomed to failure, if not damnation.
Plus there was the situation with that photograph they take at the police station when I was beginning my adventure in imprisonment, just like Paul and Silas in the Book of Acts. Only I am pretty sure that if they had had mug shots in the time of the early Christian martyrs, you can bet that they would have allowed Paul to primp a little for the camera, him having been a prominent Pharisee and Roman and all. And I am not saying that I would have primped had it been offered to me, on account of I am in touch with my external holiness now, since I started attending the Solid Rock Church. I eschew makeup and jewelry because I am a total biscuit, as you could ask any of my three different husbands to confirm.
No, the problem was that we were having a conversation whilst I was getting ready to have my picture taken, and the person who was by the camera had just asked me who is my favorite one of Jesus’s disciples. And I had that same sort of brain freeze I get sometimes when I am playing Bible Bingo, because I can never really decide between Peter and James, because they were the two disciples who were married to women, and though Peter was the Lord’s favorite, James was actually the Lord’s brother, so I always figured that gave him kind of a leg-up. Anyway, I was still pondering the query when FLASH went the camera, and it’s not like at the circuit clerk’s office, where if you get a driver’s license picture with your eyes half-closed, they’ll give you a do-over. They must have cut the budget for cameras at jails, because they insisted that one size would fit all, though clearly such is not the case where my picture is concerned.
There have also been some hatings where my private life is concerned, so I reckon I need to straighten that out. Just because I live in Morehead does not mean I agree with the concept. Yes, I have been married four times, but it was only to three men, so what’s your ruckus? I was married to Dwain for ten years, but we divorced before the twins were born. When I married Joe two years later, he adopted the twins as his own, even though my third husband, Thomas Dale, who I married three years after Joe and me split, was their actual biological father. That marriage only lasted a year, whereupon me and Joe got back together again. If you don’t think I could rock a Christian reality show on cable TV, you better stick with your Hindu Kardashians.
I got elected county clerk after my dear mama decided she didn’t want to run again. I had been making good money working for her as her deputy clerk, but moving up was a pretty good salary bump, and in Kentucky it’s hard to make 80 grand a year without digging coal or cooking meth.
Plus I got elected as a Democrat, so suck on that, lib-tards.
You should know it wasn’t just poofters I kept from getting married. I wasn’t issuing no licenses for men and women either, and once I get out of jail, I will get back to defending the sanctity of marriage by not allowing it in Rowan County. I am too legit to quit, and to paraphrase the immortal words of Doctor Martin L. King, injustice against me is a threat to justice for me.
Yours in certainty,
KJ