Thank god Jerry Falwell's dead. If only there had been less piety about his passing and more venom, either straight hate like Christopher Hitchens in Slate:
The discovery of the carcass of Jerry Falwell on the floor of an obscure office in Virginia has almost zero significance, except perhaps for two categories of the species labeled "credulous idiot." The first such category consists of those who expected Falwell (and themselves) to be bodily raptured out of the biosphere and assumed into the heavens, leaving pilotless planes and driverless trucks and taxis to crash with their innocent victims as collateral damage...The second such category is of slightly more importance, because it consists of the editors, producers, publicists, and a host of other media riffraff who allowed Falwell to prove, almost every week, that there is no vileness that cannot be freely uttered by a man whose name is prefaced with the word Reverend.Or silliness like this man-on-the-street comment in the Onion:
"He was committed to preaching God's Word and for that he's earned his reward in heaven…unless, of course, he was completely wrong about everything."