It’s been confirmed to the Provo Herald that Professor Randy Bott, who was quoted a while back as saying some controversial things to the Washington Post, will “retire” in June, at the end of Brigham Young University’s spring term, and that he plans to serve a so-called “mission” for his church.
Savvy observers, however — often bearing brilliantly chosen pseudonyms — are already pointing out on various message boards that the story just doesn’t hold water.
They’re surely correct.
First of all, Professor Bott was born in 1945. That makes him only about sixty-seven years old. Nobody retires at just sixty-seven years old. Ridiculous!
And then, it’s said, he plans to serve a “mission” for his church. That might be believable with regard to some other denomination, but when the church in question is the Mormons, we know it’s a bald-faced lie. Mormons don’t serve missions. And, anyway, only young people serve Mormon missions. Older Mormons don’t. And, anyhow, Randy Bott has never shown even the slightest interest in “missionary work.” (See here and here for conclusive evidence that he hasn’t.)
The family and others are now claiming that Professor Bott has been planning to retire after spring term for at least a year already, but that’s clearly a lie, because the Mormon Church always lies and everybody connected with it always lies. Thus we know that this is a lie, and it just confirms that Mormons always lie. QED.
And now for a transcript from My Fair Lady:
Mrs. Eynsford-Hill: I do hope we won’t have any unseasonable cold spells. They bring on so much influenza. And the whole of our family is susceptible to it.
Eliza Doolittle: My Aunt died of influenza, or so they said. But it’s my belief they done the old woman in.
Mrs. Higgins: Done her in?
Eliza Doolittle: Yes, Lord love you. Why should she die of influenza, when she come through diptheria right enough the year before? Fairly blue with it she was. They all thought she was dead. But my father, ‘e kept ladling gin down ‘er throat. Then she come to so sudden she bit the bowl right off the spoon.
Mrs. Eynsford-Hill: Dear Me!
Eliza Doolittle: Now what call would a woman with that strength in ‘er have to die of influenza? And what become of ‘er new straw hat what should have come to me?
Eliza Doolittle: Somebody pinched it. And what I say is: them as pinched it done her in.
Lord Boxington: “Done her in”? “Done her in,” did you say?
Lady Boxington: Whatever does it mean?
Mrs. Higgins: It’s the new slang meaning someone has killed her.
Mrs. Eynsford-Hill: Surely you don’t think someone killed her?
Eliza Doolittle: Do I not? Them she lived with would have killed ‘er for a hatpin, let alone a hat.
Mrs. Eynsford-Hill: But it can’t have been right for your father to be pouring spirits down her throat like that; it could have killed her.
Eliza Doolittle: Not ‘er. Gin was mother’s milk to ‘er. Besides, ‘e poured so much down ‘is own throat, ‘e knew the good of it.
Lord Boxington: Do you mean he drank?
Eliza Doolittle: Drank? My word. Something chronic!
[responding to Freddy's laughter]
Eliza Doolittle: Here! What’re you sniggerin’ at?
Freddy Eynsford-Hill: The new small talk. You do it so awfully well.
Eliza Doolittle: Well if I was doin’ it proper, what was you sniggerin’ at? Have I said anything I oughtn’t?
Mrs. Higgins: No, my dear.
Eliza Doolittle: Well that’s a mercy, anyhow . . .