Years ago, writing for the old “Bush Country” website (since vanished without a trace), I wrote a satire about a New Utopian Translation of the Bible–the N.U.T. Bible, for short. It featured nut-job theology, all invented by me to make a satirical point: once you start subjecting God’s Word to private, personal interpretation, you don’t know where it’ll take you.
My editor at Chalcedon called. “You’ve got to talk to this poor guy in Seattle,” she said. “He just called me, he’s read your Bush Country piece, and he’s beside himself. He’s a pastor at a church out there.”
So I called him. Well, poor Pastor X took the satire for a real news item and went ballistic over it. He gave a sermon about it. His daughter made it the subject of a report she wrote for school. But he couldn’t find the N.U.T. Bible, and he needed more information from me.
“I’m afraid I made it up,” I admitted. “It’s a satire, you see. That’s why I put in all those crazy names and loony ideas.”
Long pause. And then… “What have I done? The Nut Bible–of course! N.U.T. spells nut.” No wonder his congregation was staring at him. No wonder his daughter’s report provoked puzzlement.
He was a good sport about it. Should’ve realized it was satire, he admitted. “Got myself all stirred up!” he said. That next sermon must’ve been a doozy.
In the 20 years or so since then, it has gotten much harder to write satire. No sooner do you dream up something preposterous than someone in the real world says it, does it, or wants it to be public policy. How do you satirize that which already satirizes itself?
Once upon a time, ancient Welsh bards believed that a sharp satire, driven by real passion and conforming to all the rules of satire… would come true.
Yeesh. Is that what’s happened here?