Come to Godtown country—where the men are men, and the sheep are nervous. Just bring your family, your SUV, your AAA credit rating, your clean-shaven, bliss-grinning morality, and your King James Bible, and settle down with us here in Godtown.
And if, like me, you're a fellow who likes plenty of artificial mozzarella on his Martyr, don't forget to bring along an appetite for cheap pizza that tastes like FD&C Red No. 376 over hot, wet cardboard. If Mel Gibson can turn the fish into whole pies with extra anchovies delivered to your door by an adolescent kid whose face looks exactly like dinner, then we here at Godtown can make it in this dangerous world of turbanized bombers and blood-guzzling Iranians.
Godtown: a place where you can get fat and holy. A place where you can have your Christian family and your Mate1 mistress on the side. A place where the communion wafers come with two free toppings. A place where God and Government are one.
Jesus wouldn't have it any other way.