| abstract
| - It all started one day back in those decadent and debauched days known simply as “the eighties.” Back then our most esteemed Bishop was known simply as Brian Tamaki. Brian and his ever faithful wife Hannah were living in Rotorua and were just a couple of plain, average salt of the earth working class New Zealanders with modest aspirations of dominating the homosexual adult video industry. That was when Bishop Brian, quite unexpectedly, while smoking crack cocaine, had a vision from on high. The Holy Spirit fell upon him and he began to speak in tongues. Hannah stopped in the middle of performing fellatio, reached down and withdrew his dildo. Thinking Brian had once again become psychotic went to the kitchen to get a bucket of water to throw in his face. When she returned she found her husband with a look of divine serenity on his face. “Hannah,” he said “To Hell with the homosexual porno business, let's go into religion – there’s more money in it. The overheads are practically nil and it doesn’t require any work or particular skill set.” So it was that Brian added the prefix “Pastor” to his name and entered the ministry. Apart from the obligatory swindling of a nice but gullible elderly couple to finance his first church building, the affixing of the word “Pastor” to his name was the only prerequisite for becoming a minister in the 21st century. That and the development of his theology, a radical and innovative doctrinal system that dispensed with annoyances like humility and love for fellow man and replaced them with the more progressive and modern virtues of materialist greed and unbridled judgmental bigotry. They kept their doctrines nice and flexible so they could make them up as they went along. The only thing set in stone was that the congregation had to give them plenty of money. All he needed now was a name for his fledgling mission. That night, while he was drinking Steinlager, fantasising about being fckd up the a** and smoking methamphetamine, in a flash of inspiration Pastor Tamaki hit upon the name “Destiny Church” – after all he explained to Hannah – “once they enter our Church they ain’t going nowhere else in their lives.” The only thing that was left to do was to file for bankruptcy to escape the debts of their failed homosexual pornography venture, affix the legend “Incorporated Trademark” to the churches name and buy a Harley Davidson to prove how thoroughly modern and downright fucking cool they were. One thing was lacking though – they needed a catchy slogan. Some other wanker had already stolen and trademarked his first choice “The Choice of a new Generation”, so was “Always a great time for the great taste” which he thought appropriate on account of his high sperm count. Finally he came up with the slogan – “The Breakthrough Generation” - a subtle allusion to his desire to use recreational drugs to "break on through to the other side" under the influence of the ghost of Jim Morrison. It was the beginning of the greatest Christian mission effort since The Spanish Inquisition. The Tamakis were on their way.
* Pastor Brian Tamaki was awarded the “Minister of the Year” at the Fundies – the Fundamentalist equivalent of the Oscars. The Fundies are an initiative of Destiny Church and Pastor Brian Tamaki, who is the Chairman and judge of the Fundies awards.
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