I have long wondered if it is True that Thomas Jefferson is Really Mormon now. Can you please ask him if (1) he has accepted Baptism by Proxy, (2) he has given up rewriting the New Testament to his own liking, and (3) what he thinks of modern Dumbercrats? These are questions that I often face as I contemplate the corruption our great Nation has fallen into at the hands of the Clintons and there ilk with Gay Marriage, Drug Legalization, and other such Evils. I would like you’re opinion on this matter of Deepest importance to our country.

Thank you,

A Concerned Republican

The spirits have spoken and given answers:

I, Thomas Jefferson, am happy to answer your questions.

1. Yes, I have accepted the gospel in the spirit world and have embraced Mormonism. I was very happy to find a religion that would allow me to make an honest woman out of Sally Hemings without divorcing my first wife.

2. I gave up on the bible revision when I realized that Joseph Smith was so much better at it.

3. I hold the Clintons in very low regard and think Bill is a disgrace to men everywhere. In my day, the president of the United States could father children outside of marriage without apology. Bill had phone sex and a few furtive encounters of the French variety and lied about it. So yes, I share your opinion that things have really gone downhill over the last 200 years.

I am wondering if you could drum up my pioneer ancestor, Uriah C. Potter. He was baptized in 1834 by Erastus Adams and ordained an elder later that year by Solomon Hubbard.
Anyway . . . ask him the following questions: Why did he wait until 1841 to leave Kirtland and join the saints in Nauvoo? What was his most frightening experience during his mission to the Southern States: having a mob chase him on foot for ten miles or nearly drowning when he tried to cross a river in the spring? And finally, where did that old coot hide the gold he supposedly found in 1849 when he was in California on a mining mission for the Church? I could use the money.

Thanks,

Symonds

Sorry to threadjack from Ixtlilxochitl here, but let me shed some light on Irene’s cryptic allusion.

In my youth, after I grew tired of torturing caterpillers, I turned to my little brother. I convinced him that I had The Force, and that my spirit could switch places with people from the Star Wars universe (my spiritual gift was the gift of fraud — I could not really channel spirits as brother Marron clearly can).

Here’s how it happened. I would make a long “beep” sound, and my body would go limp. Then another “beep” would animate me with one of the Star Wars characters. Han Solo was cool and would engender great respect and admiration from my little brother. Darth Vader scared him out of the room. Yoda made him very inquisitive. Princess Leia made him blush.

One day I wanted my little brother to rub my feet. He wouldn’t do it.

“Beep” (body goes limp) “Beep”

“Ho Ho Ho!” Yes, my spirit had switched places with Santa Claus, and I told my brother how busy I was at the North Pole getting all his toys ready for Christmas — it was sure a lot of work and my feet sure were sore. It worked.

So thank you Irene. Next time I’ll tell them about your infamous Newsies performance or your hidden stash of candy bars.

And to Costanaz- Forgive me if I sound like brother Kundsen, but compared to Thomas Jefferson & Philemon C. Merrill, Princess Leia is just a girl in a robe. Call me jealous, but I don’t get it.
Santa, okay, sorry about that one.(If you read this I really want a pony).

Are you there, Marron? I don’t have all day.

I apologize for taking so long to respond to you. For some reason the connection to your ancestor Uriah was very tenuous and “staticky,” so the answers may be a bit distorted. Are you sure he was entirely righteous? However, here is what I have been able to determine from the spirits:

I, Uriah C. Potter, respond thus

1. I find it difficult to answer this question because of the painful memories, but let’s just say it involved Porter Rockwell and a certain young lady. Let’s leave it at that. Until that was resolved I daren’t show my face in Nauvoo or you, my dear disrespectful niece, would not not be around to commit the sin of covetousness.

2. The most frightening Event of my mission in the Southern States was when a mad possum possessed by the spirit of the Destroyer strode upon the waters and denied me crossing of a great river. The most satisfying occurrence was when I was able to cast the spirit from the possum and then eat the lousy little varmint.

3. [Marcelo: this is the part I could not make out] …under the pyramid of the Louvre with the jawbone of Samson’s ass and the secret to every great mystery… …Danites waiting for anyone who disturbs the trove…

Symonds, I apologize that so much is missing here, especially concerning the treasure. I feel that your dear, departed ancestor may still not be entirely honest about the treasure and have his heart set upon the things of the world. It often takes many years for them to give them up.

It was pointed out to me that you would not be Uriah’s niece. Given the quality of the channel, though, I believe this is my mistake.

I have an ancestor who died in Salt Lake after being baptised for the sixth time in December, 1856. No one will speak his name and no one has given me information on why he was baptised so many times. Can you please find out the following:

1. What was my ancestor’s name?

2. Why was he baptised so many times?

3. Why won’t anyone speak about him now?

Thank you,

Philemon

I was at first quite skeptical about being able to contact your deceased ancestor. As you know, I’m only able to contact the good ones, and your great great great sounded like a hard case. Nevertheless, I put my shoulder to the wheel and tried my best. You should be very pleased with these results:

My dear son Philemon, it gives me great pleasure to make contact with one of my righteous posteriors, and your mother and mother and mother and I are just tickled pink that you are thinking of us. My given name is Parley Vous Vas, and I would appreciate it if you would see to it that my work gets done for me. People just didn’t mention my name out of reverence for the apostle. I’m still a little mad at that priest that baptized me in the irrigation canal in December 1856. It was colder that Lilburn W. Boggs’ heart, and they had to chop a hole in the ice. Well, they dunked me but the priest didn’t say the prayer right, so they had to do it again. This time he didn’t get me under all the way, so they up and dunked me yet again. By now the wind was like to blow me away, and I had icicles freezing sideways on my body. Well, the next time he dunked me before I was ready, and I come up a’splutterin’ with a mouthful of ditch water. I cussed him good, nothing I hadn’t already heard Heber C. say in meeting, but they thought it wasn’t right for a man to commit the sin of profanity while standing in the waters of baptism. They just kept putting me under until I froze to death.

Please carry on the righteous traditions of the family name, and don’t get baptized outside in December.

After reading your request I immediately pondered and prayed and attempted to reach out to the great beyond. Unoftunately, I was not able to contact the spirit you requested. It felt as if my psychic abilities were somehow being blocked or jammed — all I heard was the distant sound of the Beach Boys’ Good Vibrations.

Nevertheless, I am determined to provide this service for all of the fine readers of this questionable blog, so I made more of a personal sacrifice. Sometimes these things can only be acomplished through much fasting, so I have eaten neither crumb nor morsel since yesterday afternoon, and I will now attempt to contact your beloved Mr. Eko again. I am have a great sense that this attempt will be quite fruitful. One moment while I light the candles…

Hello. I am Meestah Eko. I am with Yemi now. Leave me alone.

You know how much I dissaprove. I cannot for a second believe that any self-respecting stake president would permit such activities. Saying that your spirit channelling is okay as long as you only channel the good ones is like saying it is okay to play go-fish with face cards. Evil is evil. And I want to prove that to you. So I have a simple request:

I would like you to get in touch with our first father’s first son - - Abel — and tell us exactly what it was like to be Cain’s older brother. And while you are at it, why don’t you contact the spirit of Cain as well. I hear that sort of thing frequently has the kind of effect that would remedy my little problem with you once and for all.

Your request will take some time. You see, the longer someone has been dead, the harder it is to reach him. So I will try to reach Abel. Unfortunately (or fortunately?) my gift does not extend to the living and I cannot reach Cain at all: as you well know he is now seven feet tall, covered in hair like your cousin Jeroboam, and lives in the American west, where he sometimes scares innocent campers. So I’m afraid that if you want to ask him anything, you’ll need to go out into the Uintah mountains during a full moon and camp well away from anyone else. Then you may find him.

By the way, if you’re serious, I understand he is especially fond of beer and, even worse, Dr. Pepper, so if you are up to it, put some of those foul brews by your tent door. If you don’t want to sully your hands with them, you could probably find cans left by high-school students and simply camp next to them. (I also understand that sinfully delicious chocolate-covered marshmallows may work, or anything with plenty of trans fats…)

I’ll be back about Abel when I have contacted him.

In spite of your personal disapproval of me, I have managed to channel Abel, as you requested, and I now dutifully give you the word for word record of his communication to you. I suggest you sit down before reading any further.

Yo yo yo Stevie ‘Rastus. What up? Abel here, but you can call me Abe, or Abey. The women here in the celestial kingdom all call me Abey baby, cuz I’ve been resurrected in the prime of my life, and everybody who is male knows that you’re 18, you’re prime. No mission, no bills, and women galore who like to drive fast with the top down. If that ain’t celestial, what is?

That whole thing with my brother, it was all kind of a misunderstanding, ya know? Like, he was a real pain when he was little, like before he figured out what the outhouse was for. That’s the problem when you live to be a thousand years old, kids are in diapers for 50 years. But anyways, Cain, he was always a whiner and a liar, but so were all the rest of my kid brothers. Like, mom would make a batch of brownies and then go visiting teaching and Cain would eat them all and then when mom came home she was like “Who ate all the brownies?” and Cain was like “Brownies? What brownies?” Dude, seriously. So this one day dad told us to go hoe the garden, and I waited until Cain wasn’t looking and hit him right in the back of the head with this ginormous rotten tomato. He was all like “Dude, what the …” and I was all like LMAO. So Cain, he like flipped out, totally, and started throwing stuff back at me. And he accidentally picked up this rock and like threw it really hard and it got me right in the grill and it was lights out. So when dad gets home that night he’s like “Where’s your brother?” and Cain is like “Brother? What Brother?” LOL.

I gots a question for you, Stevie ‘Rastus. There’s this lady up here says you baptized her, she’s totally hot and she’s like totally cool and everything like me and her went to this concert last night and she crowdsurfed it was awesome. She says you were a good missionary but you always did this one really weird thing. Like whenever you asked her to read a scripture and she like leaned over to pick up her scriptures from the coffee table she says you like started singing some church song. Out loud. Dude. Or like when she had you guys over for dinner and she would like lean over to pass the salt or something, same thing. You’d look at the ceiling and sing a song from church. True?

Holla back dawg.

I too was puzzled by the “surfer” voice, but I believe that Brother Abel has been confused by all of the “Stripling Warriors: Momma’s Boys” T-shirts worn by our youth and by our elders on P-Day and by the images of muscular Tahitians on all the bottles of noni juice being sold by our members. He has chosen an idiom that he thought would be more accessible to the present generation based on these images. Apparently his choice reflects a certain lack of social awareness that can come after thousands of years in the higher realms.

Cousin Erastus, I am overjoyed to hear that you sang hymns. What ones did you sing? As dear Bro. Goode suggested, I have tried singing the hymns of Zion to take care of my problem, but perhaps I have chosen the wrong one: now when we sing Onward Christian Soldiers I think of my hair growing longer and I feel a surge of testosterone and the hair all grows back instantly and the BYU honor police have to call in a SWAT team to protect their students from the sight. Perhaps if I knew which hymns you used I would do better.

Having extra facial or body hair is not a sin, Bro. Rosenquist. I, for one, happen to like my soul patch!

When I sing, I do not sing a “single” church hymn. That may be fine for those who are at this point merely novice hymn-torians. I have taken each of the most pure hymns (you can find them for yourself through much fasting and prayer) and have created a beautiful melodious medley. It is 23-minutes and 42 seconds in length and when sung properly demands the pause and adulation of even the angels above us who are silent notes taking. I recommend you find this medley for yourself. Much like the strengthening of your testimony, I cannot do it for you.

My one and only observation, however, to help you along the way is this: if “As Sisters in Zion” is one the hymns you choose, you will know of assurity that you are being guided by a spirit who is not in tune with heavenly things.

I see that you are still around. Evidently my request to have you channel Cain did not produce the desired effect, so allow me to make a further request.

Please contact the spirit of Gadianton. Find out if the atoning mercies of our Lord have freed him from his just sojurn in spirit prison. I would also like to know how he first met Kishkumen, which of them was faster in a foot race, how he came to take the lead of this secret group, and whether or not Gadianton is his first name or his last. Additionally, if he truly has come to repentance, perhaps he would be willing to discuss some of the secret Gadianton oaths and signs.

So by all means, contact Gadianton – I have heard from a few Brazilian Returned Missionaries that it is possible for him to be reached via Macumba. Your more righteous methods should be equally effective. This ought to really do the trick.

It was very difficult for me to have much faith in my gift to contact the spirit of Gadianton. However, I fasted by not going through the McDonald’s drive thru line for lunch and was granted a special spiritual gift. As I was getting out of the car when I got home, a 5 year old girl I had never seen before said that “those two men over there” had asked her to give me a letter. When I looked in the direction she was pointing, I could see nothing. And the letter was postmarked the following day. This is what it said:

Dear Mr. Moron,

Your request for information regarding inmate Gad E. Anton was forwarded to me, Bill “Taser” Tazewell, asst. warden, inmate discipline, spirit prison.

We don’t normally give out much information about the offenders we got housed here. In Anton’s case though, I’ll make an exception.

That boy is making some good progress. We had him on the chain gang digging ditches for 1300 years, and he learned real quicklike not to give the bossman no lip or even look at him sideways. For the last few centuries he’s been allowed to work independent out on the rock pile with a hammer, making little rock out of big ones. We did have one little incident where he complained about the grub and got in a fight in the mess hall, but I went in there with my billy club and gave him a wood shampoo. He’s only needed an attitude adjustment that one time, so maybe in another 500 years, he might be ready for parole or a halfway house, and he might be able to take the discussions.

You also asked about that Kish K. Umen feller. Well, he got the idea in his head one night that he would make a run for it. I let him get a good head start, then turned the dogs loose and they had him treed inside of 15 minutes. Where he got the idea he could outrun a pack of hounds while he was wearing that disguise, I’ll never know. On the way to the courthouse for his hearing, he tried to took off again, thinking he could outrun me. Well, he outsmarted himself, because he could sure enough run faster than I can, but he couldn’t outrun the six little friends I had in my pistoley. I figure I saved us all some tithing money.

Sincerely,

/s/ Bill “Taser” Tazewell

P.S. If you ever have to go to jail, I advise you to change your name to something besides Marcelo.

Not that I believe in your so-called “spirit channelling,” but I have heard that our 37th president, Dwight K. Eisenhower, actually worshipped snakes and read about watches while fishing for monkeys in a tower. Since he recently passed away in the tragic events of 9/11, I have not been able to confirm these facts directly from him (not to worry — I have alread published his biography). But perhaps you could contact President “Mike” as he was nicknamed by adoring fans (”if I could be like Mike” they used to say) and ask him what he thinks about Mick Roomney, the whopper-believing McNugget-chomping cultist running for President in the upcoming elections this November. Please find out what he thinks — on behalf of myself and my fellow graduates of Bodunch Community Kollege (GO ARTICHOKES!) — ‘cuz I would kinda like to know.

You know how to reach me.

[Frank Sinatra music in the background]

Hey there, Jack. Whitesburg, is it? OK, fine, Whitesnerd, whatever. You asked about this Mutt Rooney fellow, and I’ll get to that, but let me just say first that your biography of me gets everything bassackwards. Of course I can overlook all the little insignificant details, so I won’t say anything about them, but here are the big things you missed:

1. I made it into the 144,000.
2. Heaven really is a place where you can golf and fish all day, like regular Americans enjoy doing. Not that you would know anything about that.
3. Heaven is like a country club. Tough to get into, but once you’re in, life is schweeet!

As far as Mick Ronny goes and whether I like him, well, here’s my answer. He’s a republican, isn’t he? That tells me about all I need to know. Of course I support him, and I don’t think he’ll have any trouble getting into the heavenly country club when his time comes.

I wonder why it is that you, who have never accomplished anything in your life that I can see, think you can criticize Matt? Not only was he a governor of one of our great United States of America, but he was CEO and president of the U.S. Olympic games. Do you know what that is? Didn’t think so. The Olympic games are sports events. You know, athletic contests where people wear jock straps. Huh, what’s a …?!?! Well, I got your jock strap right here, son.

1) I read where you were called to go on a mission to the Ottoman Empire in 1891 but came home only nine weeks after going there. Why did you leave so quickly?

Nine weeks is all it took me to shake off the dust of my feet on those heathens.

2) How did you meet your second wife (my great-great grandmother) Dinah Greenbrew?

Ah, sister Greenbrew. I met her when we were both in the same FHE group at the BY. Her roommates made up a treasure hunt of hints for me to follow, and she was the prize. Do you know that her two roommates became my third and fourth wives? She doesn’t either.

3) I read where one of the Three Nephites appeared and helped you bail 10 loads of hay during a vicious windstorm after your Chinese immigrant workers quit on you. What part of that really happened?

Well, it’s partly right. But it wasn’t just one of the Nephites. It took all three of them, plus John the Beloved. That was some windstorm. You make sure all my righteous posterity hears about that experience so they don’t dwindle in unbelief.

This is sure some amazing gift you got. It’s really amazing. Have you ever been tempted to abuse it or to use it in ways that you shouldn’t that could be seen as abusive in any way?

I heard a story several years ago that gave my testimony a nice shot in the arm at a time in my life a few years ago when my testimony really needed a nice shot in the arm. It was the story about a farmer who was tilling his land while he was working a tractor to move the earth, and his tractor encountered an old Indian grave where a former Indian girl had been buried in the ground there by her Indian father after the girl died. When the farmer disturbed the grave, a young Indian girl with lightish skin and blue eyes materialized in front of him, her bones came out of the earth and she was resurected in the twinkling of an eye. The farmer later found out that it was the grave of a Nephite girl who’s father had blessed the grave centuries earlier through his priesthood that if the tomb was ever disturbed she would be resurected in a twinkling of an eye, which is exactly what happened when this farmer distured it with his tractor while tilling.

Brother Marrón, please get in touch with the spirit of this resurected girl — or at least her righteous father (or even the farmer, if he is not still alive) if resurected spirits are beyind your gift (which is amazing, by the way). Find out more about her, when she was buried, how she died, whether or not her father was in a Nephite Stake Presidency or if he was just an average priesthood holder (and what was his calling?), and how did the farmer learn so much about her history? Also ask her if there is any message that she wants to give the rest of the world.

Thank you. I can’t wait to hear your response. Thanks.

I hate to disappoint paying customers, and I was afraid that in your case I would disappoint you. The channeling of spirits requires that you actually know in advance which spirit you want to channel. I had no name, no time frame, no place, no nothin’.

But I tried a new technique that is somewhat related to spirit channeling. It is called spirit googling, and I was quite surprised at what can be found using this method. I’ve already made a note to myself NOT to use the search argument ‘girl skin’ because of all the distractions that it caused.

Where was I? Oh yes, to answer your question, I was finally able to communicate with the departed spirit of the farmer in question. His name is Heber J. Woodruff, and here is the transcript of our conversation.

Marcelo: So, did this really happen as reported?
Heber J.: Yeah, I think sister Rotunda has the facts just about right. I was out plowing the north forty when the next thing I knew, here was this blue-eyed, blonde Nephite gal looking at me and smiling.
Marcelo: How did you know she was a resurrected Nephite?
Heber J.: She told me. Said her name was Leah Hona Zelph, that her daddy was a righteous priesthood holder who took his sacred gender role seriously and presided over her.
Marcelo: How did she die?
Heber J.: She had just been picked up by her friends to go to the stake dance at Zarehemla. Since they were righteous and didn’t pair off, it took everybody a little longer to get ready. Also I guess there was a little scene when Br. Zelph told Leah that she wasn’t leaving the house with that second pair of earrings because it might tempt the young men not to go on missions. Well by now they were already running late, and the boy driving the chariot went too fast and didn’t quite make the turn. Br. and Sis. Zelph were real happy that their daughter had taken out her earrings and died a clean spirit. They would have rather had her come home in a pine box than unworthy, and they got the righteous desire of their hearts.
Marcelo: Did Leah have any advice for us?
Heber J.: She shore did. As she was leaving, she turned around and said “Vote for Pedro.”

Please get in touch with the white nephite Zelph who I have heard so much about. I’ve always wanted to know more about that story. What were his likes? His dislikes? What made him tick? Did he always come to life in the Spriing? I’d like to get to know him.

Yours truly,

Vic

(pssst — yes, it’s a joke — and even THEN it’s out of harmony and from the wrong source — don’t you think?)