We’ve seen before how one’s location is an excellent indicator of where one sits in the pecking order of excellence in a profession. In many walks of life, if you aren’t living in New York or London you are probably in the B or C league of whatever it is you do.
There are some notable exceptions to this generalistion about the Big Smoke and Apple. Green Party politicians, for example; if you’re at the top of your game, you should be living in Australia where, in a remarkable example of why democracy often provides disappointing results, they win parliamentary seats and get paid good money for talking the usual Malthusian bollocks.
Whilst idly browsing the TV channels available to me in my hotel room in India last week, I discovered another example of where the location and career combination which indicates “top of the game” isn’t a big US or European city.
Perhaps it’s just me but I find TV evangelists fascinating. They often hold my attention for far longer than I care to admit when I happen across them on the idiot box. Generally, I don’t change the channel until I’m satisfied that they’ve committed a confirmed logical fallacy or spouted something clearly ridiculously-easy to disprove by simply uttering the question, “erm, what about the dinosaurs?”. So, I hang around for about 172 seconds, on average.
This chap caught my attention last week, initially because I realised he had an Australian accent. Granted, it was a soft Australian accent, but the inclined diphthongs were there, nonetheless.
Russell Evans is an evangelical preacher who is making a bloody good living selling God…. to people in StabYerDadAlaide ™ ….. Fridges to Eskimos an’ all that.
He’s bloody good at it too; in the nearly 3 minutes which I dedicated to hearing his message I was completely taken in by his schtick that he was previously living a wayward and drifting life and that this was all turned around by the revelation that the big Sky Daddy loves him. It’s a common theme of all good TV evangelists; you can’t show improvement if your previous life was dull and sinless. A good heroin addiction and a list of sexual conquests that would put Led Zeppelin’s tour diary to shame are useful histories to wave around when trying to demonstrate a success story for the Holy Trinity.
Of course, cursory research on his own his own website disproves this completely. The bloke was born into a missionary family, became a preacher at the onset of puberty and inherited the family business when the Pater Familia retired. If he had any time going off the rails it probably involved no more than two shandys and impure thoughts about the middle-aged barmaid who served them to him.
But, God bless him, he’s still selling religion to a country town city where everyone you meet is either a lay preacher or a serial killer. Or both. That’s got to be a hard gig by anyone’s measure.
So good luck to him. Few of us ever know what true success looks and feels like but Russell Evans is churning out quality God bollocks and making a damn good living from it, by the looks of it.