March 2006 --- Six months ago Chris Carmichael, a Christian satirist, would have never believed that one day he would be reduced to standing on a busy intersection in Kansas City, MO, holding a sign that reads, “Will Mock for Food.” But this is the situation now that Carmichael is no longer able to make a decent living lampooning postmodern Christianity. Out of work and destitute, Carmichael now grovels for enough money to buy himself a Egg McMuffin for his only meal of the day. “Just last fall I was still able to target some of the unbiblical activities of certain Christian organizations and take their absurdity to a satirical extreme to expose their folly,” laments Carmichael, “but now these organizations have gone to the ultimate level of absurdity all by themselves. I can’t compete with that.”

A twenty year veteran of the Christian humor business, Carmichael was at the height of his game when suddenly the line between satire and reality began to blur this last year. The pivotal moment came when Carmichael mocked up a fake “Biblezine for Girls” and everyone thought it was real. Said Carmichael, “It had Britney Spear’s photo on the cover with the headline: ‘Hit Me, Jesus, One More Time: Finding God’s Truth in Pop Song Lyrics‘. I knew I was in trouble when Christianity Today thought I was submitting an ad from Family Christian bookstore. Worse yet, Zondervan wanted to sue me for stealing the cover idea for their upcoming ‘Hey, Girlfriend!’ Bible. How was I supposed to know?”

Carmichael is only one in a growing number of Christian satirists who is finding it difficult to practice their craft in the current atmosphere of the worldly pragmatic philosophy that permeates the postmodern Church. Blaine Davies, a freelance humorist who created the now-classic “Bible study at Hooters” satire, was devastated when a church ministry actually started a Bible group at Hooters, thus eliminating the cutting-edge wit of his original piece. “Their irresponsible actions virtually removed any hope of me selling the reprint rights to that parody,” Davies confided. “Thank goodness I’m still able to market my latest parody about a Christian outreach ministry that goes to strip clubs so they can preach the gospel to the strippers who are giving them lap dances.” When informed that there was already a Christian ministry doing something like that, Davies buried his head in his hands and sobbed uncontrollably. Like Job stripped of his dignity, Davies had come face-to-face with the bleakness of his situation which no two-ply Kleenex could relieve.

Because of situations like the one facing Davies, evangelical satirists like Chris Carmichael have been forced to look elsewhere for employment, without much success. “Oh, I’ve knocked on the Wittenburg Door, but they wouldn't open it,” explained Carmichael. “And Lark News? They wouldn't hire me unless I took payment in Lark News T-shirts. Apparently they can't give those things away.” For a time, Carmichael was so desperate for work that he did something of which he is not proud: writing opening jokes for Joel Osteen sermons. “I felt so cheap,” Carmichael winced. “It’s amazing how easy you can resort to peddling lame jokes just to keep the heat on in your apartment.”

Nowadays, Carmichael doesn’t even have the apartment anymore. Instead, he lives in a cardboard box under the Paseo Bridge which he shares with a small group of other impoverished Christian satirists who have struggled to find work. This rag-tag gang of inspired wits often gathers around a barrel fire in the evenings and talks about the good old days. “Those were heady times back when a fella could count on Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker for material,” remembered Carmichael. “But things are different now that churches have started ripping off our ideas. We aren't just competing with Saturday Night Live these days, now we have to battle with Sunday Morning Live, too.”

While Carmichael remains resolute in his determination to get through these bad times, other starving satirists have buckled under the pressure and done the unthinkable, admits Carmichael. "A few of my colleagues gave up the fight and found work as pastors in Emergent churches. But at least they get paid for doing what they love: making up stuff to amuse folks."