Franken-Lies-And-the-Lying-Liars-Who-Tell

ministrator. In fact, all Internet use is constantly monitored by the "university," giving parents
real peace of mind. Like the incredible friendliness, "constant monitoring" would also become
a theme of life at BJU.
And speaking of parents, Andrew and I found the linchpin for what would become
"our elaborate ruse." On the BJU website is a letter telling parents that it is their "God-given
responsibility" not to allow their children to choose their own college. The consequences of
that are made clear in the vivid and terrifying stories of the "Three College Shipwrecks,"
written by Bob Jones, Sr., the founder of the "university."
The first two "shipwrecks," known as "His Only Daughter" and "The Pride of His
Mother," come to alarmingly similar ends. In each, a promising, God-fearing student is allowed
to go off to a secular university. After returning from their freshman years, both have
lost their way, their faith shattered. The Only Daughter "rushed upstairs, stood in front of a
mirror, took a gun, and blew out her brains." Whereas the Pride of His Mother, having contracted
"an unspeakable disease," announces his intention to "buy a gun and blow out my
brains."
The third shipwreck, "The Son of an Aged Minister," is less violent, though certainly
just as tragic. He had been "a great boy, bright, clean, obedient, Christian." Unfortunately,
although the boy makes the life-saving decision to attend a Christian school, it isn't BJU. "A
skeptic had got in the Science Department" of the less-Christian Christian school, and when
the boy returns home, he has lost his faith and becomes "a drunken, atheistic bum."
So. Parents could save their kids from suicide, alcoholism, and the clap by forcing
them to go to BJU. Excellent. This was our key. Since neither Andrew nor I could pull off
being devout evan gelical Christians, it would be Andrew's mother who desperately wanted
him to go to Bob Jones. Instead of being Andrew's father, I would be a friend of the family-in
fact, the best friend of Andrew's father, who had died tragically of brain cancer—no wait,
boating accident—three years ago. Andrew's mom had sunk into a deep depression, then miraculously
found Christ.
It was perfect. Neither Andrew nor I would have to know anything. But why wasn't
Mom there? Sick? No. Threw out her back carrying boxes of blood at a blood drive. At
church. As you can see, we started putting way too much thought into the back story, and
way too little into the fact that I have been on television for nearly thirty years.