This book is currently the most popular book in America.
This book is #1 on the New York Times non-fiction paperback bestseller list. It is the top-sold book on Amazon.com.
It is 154 pages about a four-year-old boy who has a “near-death experience” when he goes under for an appendectomy, comes back, and tells his Nebraska-based evangelical pastor father about all the flying angels in heaven and the size of God’s chair.
It was ghostwritten by Lynn Vincent, responsible for the sewage that is Sarah Palin's "Going Rogue."
If you know me, you know I’m the ultimate cynic about all things theological. I think religion is a crock of shit wrapped in a doily and mass-distributed at Walmart.
However, I genuinely respect human beings who genuinely have faith and allow said faith to be the guiding force in their lives. I have no disdain for those who care about things like charity, and helping your fellow man, and look to a higher power as giving them purpose and meaning on Earth. It's not my bag, but to each their own, right?
But you know what’s bullshit? Exploiting your four-year-old’s dreams to sell a fucking book in which YOU preach your point of view that the last epic battle is coming and all us non-believers are going to have the proverbial – or, mayhaps, the literal – sword of the righteous thrust into our chests.
According to the - ahem - prophet Colton, he did all kinds of awesome heavenly shit behind the pearly gates. It's beautiful and all cloud-like and adorned in gold and God just hangs out and gives you high fives every time you win a ping pong game against John the Baptist. Everyone is beautiful and shiny and happy and fit and everyone who doesn't repent is on a one-way broken escalator to Lucifer's lair. Totally unique take on the afterlife.
So here's the thing: if heaven is so “for real” and so totally rad, why did it take SEVEN YEARS for Colton’s story to be told? Colton is now 11. Wouldn’t you think he and his parents would want to share the awe-inspiring revelations about Jesus’s white skin, blue eyes and purple robes right after it happened? I mean, meeting God is a BFD, right?
Also during Colton’s supernatural jaunt, he meets his miscarried sister. Apparently, four-year-olds understand procreation, miscarriages and the pain of losing a wanted unborn child. And apparently, preschoolers are the new darlings of the pro-life movement. If this isn’t thinly-veiled anti-abortion propaganda, I don’t know what is. And this is why I want Todd Burpo’s house to burn down.
It isn’t enough, Burpo, that you get your own podium every week, but now you’re going to pimp your kid to shove your bullshit down the throats of mainstream America? You’re going to make a fortune simply because you had a child with a vivid imagination and everyone in the Midwest hates their lives so fucking much that they’re going to eat up your fanciful tales of eternal goodness and light for all Christians, and damnation for the rest of us?
This is why I hate 95% of America. Because 95% of America is so fucking brainless that instead of reading books about history or civil rights or economics, people would rather read poorly-written novellas about the alleged otherworldly experience of a child who can’t even tie his own shoes. If you really want to be a Christian, READ THE BIBLE, not this pointless drivel.
The main supporters of this book claim it is ‘encouraging’ and ‘inspirational.’ That means that all the people that are reading this piece of crap are hoping, praying, and patiently awaiting their arrival on some beautiful, peaceful faraway plane. These people are wasting their lives on Earth – truly, the only lives that they have – simply because they believe that something better will meet them on the other side. So as much as I find them repulsive, I also feel sorry for them. If you’re a forty-five year old woman who has to ask a four-year-old to tell you where you’re going, you’ve never really lived a day in your life.