Religious Wackjob versus DARK SHADOWS
I’m betting you’ve seen a Chick tract, even if you didn’t know what they were called. This wackjob named Jack Chick published gazillions of little micro comic books pimping his own bastardized version of extreme fundamentalist Christianity–which in actuality was about as far removed from the genuine teachings of Jesus Christ as it is possible to get. (The reason Christianity as a whole has such a seedy reputation today in the eyes of the world at large is due in no small part to perverts–as in the perverting of the message–like Chick.) I remember the tracts from my childhood. They unsettled me, as it was unpleasant news to me that I was going to Hell. (As a kid I didn’t realize the perverseness of the tracts, and that by Chick’s warped and heretical ideology EVERYBODY was going to Hell, probably including that longhaired, free-love-advocating hippy, Jesus.)
I didn’t know that Chick tracts had been around for decades. I never researched it, because I didn’t care. I don’t care now. But had I know that Chick was publishing his fraudulent bullshit back in the 60s, I wouldn’t have been at all surprised that he attacked DARK SHADOWS as being an instrument of the infernal. (For the record, he also went after BEWITCHED for the same reason.) What mental lightweights like Chick never realized was that by vilifying and demonizing TV shows, movies, music, etc. as a corrupting influence, it only served to make them taboo, and thus irresistible, to the kids he claimed he wanted to protect. How many kids, chancing upon one of Chick’s propaganda pieces denigrating DARK SHADOWS (or BEWITCHED), possibly only somewhat interested in the show before, suddenly HAD to see it, just because a noob like that told them they shouldn’t? He was actually providing the shows with free publicity. If he is aware of that now–Do they have the Internet in Hell? Ol’ Jack probably wouldn’t have accepted the invitation to enter the Pearly Gates when he finally croaked because he didn’t approve of how God was running the place; not “righteous” enough to suit him, no doubt.–he’s probably rolling over in his grave like a crocodile doing a death-roll.
You could almost feel sorry for him, yeah? No. Me neither.