Too much is happening right now in the world for me to wait until October for my next Q&A, both because of activities on the physical plane, where the U.S. presidential candidates are waging a war for the souls of the trailer park residents, rednecks and resentful Hillary Clinton supporters…and on the spiritual plane, where I recently won handily in a poker tournament against Thor, Osiris, Loki and that pansy-ass Dionysus (who brought fucking white zinfandel wine to the game, by the way). In short, I’m feeling my oats…well, my chickpeas anyway…and my inbox is bursting with questions from you miserable humans, so I might as well clear a couple of you off my olive-oil-smeared plate.

I, the great and powerful Hummus Idol, will now entertain your questions and grant unto you the wisdom that only a pile of very angry crushed chickpeas, tahini, olive oil and other seasonings can offer. Don’t let the smiling face fool you. I am a fridge-cold killah. Bow down before me, speak your question, and incline your ears or any other convenient part of your anatomy as I spew my advice upon thee.

Q: You miserable fucking traitor! I will see you ground up into an even finer mash than you currently are. I sold my soul to you for the vice presidency and I look like an idiot out there! Why aren’t you whispering answers into my ear? I got owned by Katie Couric, for God’s sake! Not only has George Will turned on me, but now that bitch from the National Review! The conservatives are supposed to looooove me. I believe the Earth is only 7,000 years old and I have said I expect the second coming of Christ to occur in my lifetime! I support drilling my state harder than Ron Jeremy did his leading ladies in porn movies. But I don’t know shit. I need your voice in my ears. Where are you…where are you? Damn it, please help already… – Miss Congeniality, Juneau, Alaska.

A: First off, Sarah, while you did indeed sell your soul to me for your current high profile role, let me point out two things.

First, you have recently aligned yourself with that fetish-whore Sister Mary Malcontent, as I noticed the other day. Instead of having faith in my powers alone, supercharged as they are with the tahini of the gods, you decided to hedge your bets by stooping to the use of sexual wiles to keep McCain from dropping your ass. By seeking the carnal talents and dominance training of Sister Mary, you have forsaken me. For reasons you need not be privy to, there is nothing but enmity between me and the bad sister. No extra help for you from me, you wannabe-fascist, extremist, hypocritical, shallow, opportunistic, book-banning wench.

Second, I never promised I’d get you elected. When you had that nutcake witch-hunting Pastor Muthee pray for your financial and political success instead of for wisdom or clear leadership, God turned His back on you. That’s why you had to turn to me. You sold your soul for the most powerful position currently open to someone of your talents in the United States. And that was the vice presidential candidate slot for the Republicans. Candidate. Not victor. You’re on your own now, toots. Next time you sell your soul, be more specific and have someone other than your himbo husband review the contract. Oh, that’s right, you only have one soul to sell, so there won’t be a next time. Ha hah ah hah ha ha haaaaa.

Q: Whazzat! Where’s am I? Who! Get me my Viagra, you cunt! Damn young uppity whipper-snapper negro! Straight talk express, dammit! Horseshit! – An Old Fart in Arizona.

A: Go back to sleep, Senator McCain. A private nurse will be along shortly with your meds.

Q: I just can’t vote for Barack Obama. I mean, shit, he has the same middle name as Saddam’s last name and his first and last names are so…so…African or Islam or something. He must be Muslim. And all Muslims hate America. He’ll aim all our nukes at our own cities and push the button as soon as his ass gets in the Oval Office. – Charles Dahmer Gacy, Crapshoot, Nev.

A: Uh, Chuck…if you want to cast stones at someone simply because of the name their parents gave them instead of the evidence, let me mention a few to you: Charles Manson. Jeffrey Dahmer. John Wayne Gacy. All of them psychotic killers. I’ve notified the FBI of your address, since you clearly must be just like them.

Q: Hummus Idol! I just saw Jesus’ face in my oatmeal! And last week, the Virgin Mary’s face was burned into one of my pancakes! What is God trying to tell me? – Gretchen Pablum, St. Oilstain, Texas

A: I’ll have Senator McCain’s private nurse drop by your place with some medications that will help you with that problem of yours.

Q: I really like hanging out at atheist discussion groups and blogs online and telling them of Jesus’ love for them because I know if I tell them enough times and I just keep at them, I will save their souls. Aren’t I special? And when I finish college, I plan to become a door-to-door evangelist in my spare time after work. – Arthur J. Brickwall, Shriner Heights, Ohio

A: Yes. Commendable. Yeah. Let me provide some career advice and offer you up some jobs that are well-suited to your personality: alcohol distribution manager to Mormon communes, ice salesman in the Arctic Circle, intelligence analyst for the CIA, or animal testing and fur-coat industry liaison to PeTA.

(Image by Stewart Butterfield, who is not affiliated with this blog and who doesn’t even know I or my opinions exist, and used under Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 License)

(Hummus Idol does not speak as a representative or agent of Deacon Blue or anyone else associated with this blog. In fact, Hummus Idol doesn’t exist. He is wholly and completely a manufactured character that acts as an angry facade behind which Deacon Blue can hide for petty entertainment purposes and for times when he needs to be extra crusty and get shit off his chest. That said, you can feel free to shower the Hummus Idol with offerings of jewelry, money or fine art…he will make sure it goes someplace where it is needed.) View complete list of Humus Idol entries here.

As part of my ongoing struggle with the dark overlord Chthulu over who gets the parking space under the shade tree and legal problems with the producers of “American Idol,” who had hoped to use “Hummus Idol” as the name for a new spin-off show appealing to a small culinary-minded niche demographic in the Mediterranean (I think it was for the Chickpea Cable Channel, or C³TV)…well, I have been very busy. As such, I absolutely refuse to apologize for not having appeared here in August after promising to appear monthly. Deacon Blue may think he has bound me to his will by using questionable occult practices (or was it a court injunction, I get those confused), but I serve no will but my own.

Now, back to business…

I, the great and powerful Hummus Idol, will now entertain your questions and grant unto you the wisdom that only a pile of very angry crushed chickpeas, tahini, olive oil and other seasonings can offer. Don’t let the smiling face fool you. I am a fridge-cold killah. Bow down before me, speak your question, and incline your ears or any other convenient part of your anatomy as I spew my advice upon thee.

Q: I was one of those people praying, as James Dobson and Focus on the Family were exhorting us to do, for God to make rain come and spoil Barack Obama’s acceptance speech. Any idea why we ended up with sloppy weather instead at the start of our otherwise glorious Republican National Convention preparations? During all this praying, did perhaps someone accidentally say McCain’s name instead of Osama’s…I mean, Obama’s? Maybe that’s what happened, and God got confused. – Ennis Dramamine, Family Valuesville, North Dakota

A: Hmmmm…let’s see…Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain. Judge not lest ye be judged. Pray even for those who hate you. Wait on the Lord to judge. (*shuffling noises* Hold on, maybe…wait…yes…no, I was wrong. That passage means something else.)No, near as I can tell, nowhere does the Bible tell you that you are allowed to pray for something nasty to happen to something whom you don’t like, just because you want to be snotty and contrary. Now, I personally think it’s coincidence that the Republican National Convention got slapped with hurricane-induced rains and Barack Obama had perfect weather. Still, you might want to at least consider the fact that this was a case of “you reap what you sow (or try to sow).” In which case you might want to take back some of the other awful, mean-spirited prayers you have sent God’s way, before you get bitch-slapped again. In the future, if you want to lay some hurt down on someone, turn to me. After all, I’m the cold, oily, smooth operator that’s both a vision of pagan idolatry and a damn fine delicious treat as well!

Q: Why did God make the pit of an avocado so big and make the platypus look like it was created from leftover parts during creation? – Bristol-Lynn Spears, Contention, Mississippi.

A: So that idiots like you can comment on how much it shows that God really has a silly side or that God really does make mistakes.

Q: Hummus Idol! You did it! God never came through but you did. All my lack of experience, all the skeletons in my closet and all the family drama, and still the fundamental Christians in the GOP are loving me. And the mainstream press is treating me with kid gloves so far compared to what Barack HUSSEIN Obama got. I think I just had an orgasm. Thank you thank you thank you. What can I do to show my appreciation? – Miss Congeniality, Juneau, Alaska.

A: You already gave me your soul. But it might not hurt to send me a card and maybe a nice fruit basket, too. I would ask you to come over to my place dressed in your sexiest “naughty librarian” attire, but as I lack any kind of sexual anatomy, that would be a waste.

I, the great and powerful Hummus Idol, will now entertain your questions and grant unto you the wisdom that only a pile of very angry crushed chickpeas, tahini, olive oil and other seasonings can offer. Don’t let the smiling face fool you. I am a fridge-cold killah. Bow down before me, speak your question, and incline your ears or any other convenient part of your anatomy as I spew my advice upon thee.

Q: Please, Hummus Idol, can you tell me the proper amount I should give to my church to ensure God will approve of me? – Samantha Angstrom, Grosse Pointe, Mich.

A: As a powerful supernatural being with the kind of advanced intellect that is only possible to obtain from organically grown chickpeas, I have been able to glean from various prophetic passages and from numerology applied to the Old and New Testaments the precise formula for giving to your church in an amount pleasing to the Almighty God, whom I shall overthrow just as soon as I figure out how to generate a pair of arms. That formula is:

GI * GC + FA – (lts + A – mi * GOP) / QVC + IOU – URGR8T * RU18QT

Where GI = gross income, GC = gross character deficiencies, FA = felony acquittals, lts = value of your largest tax shelter…

…you don’t really think there is some magic amount of money you can put in the collection plate to cover your sins, do you? You did? Interesting. I may have to reassess my belief in evolution, as it doesn’t seem to have affected you humans much, at least not in a positive way.

Let me put it to you this way: God controls all of creation, has limitless mental capabilities and perceptions, already owns everything and allowed you to have whatever it is that you have.

And you’re going to try to bribe Him to let you into Heaven?

A-ha-ha-ha-hah-ha-ha. *sniffle* Now, could you explain…hrrrr…hah-ha-ha-ha ha. Ahhhhhh.

Never mind.

Q: As part of my goals to network with the right people and advance my career, I avoided a number of other very nice congregations and joined the biggest and most connected church that would be sympathetic to my aspirations, and well, I had a falling out with them over some comments their pastor made. I’m wondering, now that I’ve distanced myself from the entire church because of one man, what is an appropriate amount of time I should let pass before I start making guest appearances at their pulpit and start asking for additional support? – Barry O., Chicago, Ill.

A: Senator Obama, my administrative assistant has returned all of your calls and has told you multiple times that I only give spiritual advice and spiritual endowments of power. I don’t do politics, certainly not since that Gary Hart fiasco. You have an entire campaign team to answer this question for you.

Q: Oh wise and powerful Hummus Idol, I want to thank you again for the boon of your protection and the blessings you have bestowed upon me. The media continues to give me a free ride when it comes to my crazy friends and associates, my anger management issues, my desire to wage war on much of the Middle East and maybe that fucking Vietnam as well, and the lies both me and my wife tell constantly. Every human sacrifice and blood offering I have made to you has been worth it. I don’t even notice the loss of my soul most days. Tell me, is there anything more I must give over to you to ensure that I achieve my ultimate dream? – “A Patriotic Veteran in Arizona”

A: Senator McCain, I think you need to fill the prescription on your medications again and perhaps review the dosages with your physician, because your mind is slipping again. You made the bulk of your deals with Satan and, I suspect, a couple side deals with Chthulu and Loki. I have no part in any of your good fortune. However, in lieu of blood sacrifices, it would be acceptable for you to send me $2 million for consulting fees. I won’t give you any consulting; I just want the fees. If I have it by tomorrow, I may be able to convince Hillary Clinton to be your running mate. She and I use the same massage therapist.

(Image by Stewart Butterfield, who is not affiliated with this blog and who doesn’t even know I or my opinions exist, and used under Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 License)

(Hummus Idol does not speak as a representative or agent of Deacon Blue or anyone else associated with this blog. In fact, Hummus Idol doesn’t exist. He is wholly and completely a manufactured character that acts as an angry facade behind which Deacon Blue can hide for petty entertainment purposes and for times when he needs to be extra crusty and get shit off his chest. That said, you can feel free to shower the Hummus Idol with offerings of jewelry, money or fine art…he will make sure it goes someplace where it is needed.) View complete list of Humus Idol entries here.

Here begins a possibly monthly series wherein imaginary people’s burning questions will be answered (maybe) or ridiculed (likely) by the Hummus Idol. If you haven’t figured it out yet, say the name fast and you’ll get an idea of the kind of attitude this advice- and opinion-giver will possess. Take it all with a grain of salt, please.

I, the great and powerful Hummus Idol, will now entertain your questions and grant unto you the wisdom that only a pile of very angry crushed chickpeas, tahini, olive oil and other seasonings can offer. Don’t let the smiling face fool you. I am a fridge-cold killah. Bow down before me, speak your question, and incline your ears or any other convenient part of your anatomy as I spew my advice upon thee.

Q: Jesus tells us that we should love our neighbors but David Duke tells me I should only love my white ones. Who should I believe? – Cletus Percival MacNally, Vorchester, Mass.

A: That is “whom should I believe,” young man. The Hummus Idol does not abide poor grammar and hereby curses your descendants to rise no higher than working the fryers at Burger King, unto the seventh generation. Now, then…where were we? Ah, yes. Should you believe an embarrassingly self-important blowhard who once attended bonfires in forests with a bunch of guys who think white bathrobes with pointy hoods are a political fashion statement and who is associated with dangerously whacked-out website Strormfront.org…or should you believe a guy who brought people back from the dead, could turn tap water into Chardonnay and routinely drew crowds of hundreds to thousands wherever he strolled? If you need help on this decision, you are unworthy to breed and should forthwith remove your danglies with some pruning shears.

Q: We are a very devout, righteous and proper Christ-loving family with 19 children who, up until now, have been church-going, choir-singing, door-to-door evangelizing angels. But our 17-year-old girl has suddenly embraced tatoos, multiple head-to-toe body piercings, group sex, drugs and punk rock/heavy metal music. What can we do? – Mr. Edwin A. Demarcater Sr., Areola, Mont.

A: First, use these enlightened times to your advantage. Women can serve in the military in places just as dangerous as men have always tread before. Sign her up with whichever branch of the military has a recruiting office nearest to you, or send her to military academy if her GPA is high enough. This will probably do absolutely nothing to straighten her out, but it will give her additional complexes and allow you to wash your hands of the situation while feeling you have actually accomplished something. And there is only a very small two-digit percentage chance that she will one day use her military training to kill you in your sleep. Hopefully before you have a 20th child. Please see the previous answer for a possible use to which you can put those pruning shears in your garage.

(Image by Stewart Butterfield, who is not affiliated with this blog and who doesn’t even know I or my opinions exist, and used under Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 License)

(Hummus Idol does not speak as a representative or agent of Deacon Blue or anyone else associated with this blog. In fact, Hummus Idol doesn’t exist. He is wholly and completely a manufactured character that acts as an angry facade behind which Deacon Blue can hide for petty entertainment purposes and for times when he needs to be extra crusty and get shit off his chest. That said, you can feel free to shower the Hummus Idol with offerings of jewelry, money or fine art…he will make sure it goes someplace where it is needed.) View complete list of Humus Idol entries here.