Crapping my sacred underwear

I just had a new essay published:

Most adult Mormons who have been deemed worthy to enter the temple wear sacred underwear called “garments”: white, two-piece fabric hugging the body from mid-arm to kneecaps. (Imagine a white fitted t-shirt and cycling shorts.) The garments represent the coat of skins God gave Adam and Eve after they ate the forbidden fruit and realized they were naked. Mormons wear the garments day and night, removing them only for bathing, exercise, or sex.

Urban legends run through Mormon circles about the faithful who were dramatically saved by the holy fabric, by deflecting a bullet or shielding the skin from raging fire. I have the opposite tale: when I was a 19-year-old Mormon missionary in Peru, I crapped my sacred garments.

Read it here.

5 thoughts on “Crapping my sacred underwear

  1. Thank you Ted. Just discovered you on Killing The Buddha re. your nether deposits on Sacred Undergarments while dispensing Mormon gobbleygook in Peru. The sainted skeptic Mark Twain called Mormonism “Chloroform in print.” Wonderful stuff! Edifying and encouraging to this 64 yr. old male recovering zealot, marinated in the toxic holy smugness of United Pharisees Inc., Pentecostal Division.

    Quote from Hitchcock seems appropriate: “Revenge is sweet…and not fattening.”

    Keep up the good work.

    Mordecai Ham
    Vancouver, WA

      1. Yes, father was a Pentecostal preacher so we were required to speak in tongues regularly to qualify for salvation. All 8 kids in my family were bilingual by age of 12; merrily casting out demons, healing cancer, prophesying against Catholics and Mormons and Presbyterians…and being slain in the Spirit was as natural to us as picking our noses in Sunday School.

        I recently read Jon Krakauer’s “Under the Banner of Heaven,” subtitled “History of a Violent Faith.” Predictably, the BYU Braintrust has been busy attempting to debunk many of his (documented) assertions regarding young Jose’s credibility, in particular his self-confessed sexual lustings for other men’s wives and daughters.

        Sitting in sauna yesterday attempting civility as a sweet Laotian lady witnessed to me. She’d just returned from Illinois, visited the recreated and preserved jail cell where the (very tall) tale of the martyred Smith boys is preserved for LDS posterity. Rescued from war-torn Laos, succored and accepted as saint, she quite naturally loves the church. She claims the tales that Smith & BY had more than one wife are lies spread by Satan. She’d never heard of Fawn Brodie or Briing-em Young’s Beehive but did maintain her skin was getting fairer and more white-hued each year she was Mormon.

        Elder Mordecai

  2. I have wanted my own Mormon undies since I first learned of them. It’s less than obsession, and more than a lot odd. I mean, I normally freeball, but if they were magical… How could I not wear them?!

    1. They’re rather easy to obtain. Check out the various ex-mormon forums and you’ll soon find someone willing to hook you up with a pair of sacred sexy pants.

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