A Huffington Post blogger Bob Cesca has taken up the cause of exposing Glenn Beck as a lunatic. No heavy lifting is required for his exposé. It only requires the patience to listen to the ex-disc jockey for five minutes. Beck exposes himself by simply opening his mouth and allowing the lips to flap. 

Despite the ease of writing a Beck blog for on the liberal Internet news site, Cesca made a serious error in comparing the self-professed “rodeo clown” to televangelist Jimmy Swaggart. To paraphrase Lloyd Bentson’s famous line during the 1988 vice-presidential debate after then U.S. Senator Dan Quayle compared himself to John Kennedy, ”I knew Jimmy Swaggart. And Glenn Beck is no Jimmy Swaggart.”

I can understand the comparison, though. Indeed, I would not be surprised if Beck was a regular viewer when the horny evangelist was television’s most watched and controversial preacher. On second thought, I’m betting that as a drug-addled, alcoholic disc jockey in the heyday of televangelism, Beck spent a lot of hours watching Swaggart sermons about the evils of addiction. Jimmy promised a way out for boozers and druggies.

According to Beck, however, it was AA that got him sober in 1994. If true, and I have no reason to doubt him, he is still working on the Fellowship’s 2nd Step of being restored to sanity. And if his crazy persona is only a performance, as he claims, Beck  hasn’t yet reached the 12th Step, which involves practicing AA principles—honesty being at the top of the list in my opinion. Beck consistently lies and/or manipulates the truth. It is an art form among alcoholics. But when we get sober, most of us gradually abandon old habits.

Bob Cesca’s parallel between the talk show loony and  TV evangelists—Jimmy Swaggart and faith healer Benny Hinn in particular—was apparently inspired by a nine-minute Beck radio discourse in which he asked listeners to get on their knees to pray for the country. I agree with the plea, so long as the prayer is aimed at saving the country from Glenn Beck and his ilk—many of whom can be seen daily on Fox “News.”

I spent a lot of time with Jimmy Swaggart, before his zipper reduced a $150-million a year spiritual empire to the comparative equivalent of a rural store-front Pentecostal church. Though my Presbyterian background is a far cry from Brother Jimmy’s “hellfire and damnation” theology, I thought he was a great preacher. 

An excerpt from my book is a good example of what made Jimmy famous prior to his date with infamy.

The televangelist’s performances were daunting. Open floppy Bible in hand, he marched, darted and prowled across makeshift altars with the grace of a professional athlete. He raged against promiscuous sex, alcohol, illegal drugs, pornography and homosexuality. Whether in Bible Belt churches of the deep South and Midwest, or in New York City’s Madison Square Garden, he attracted overflow congregations with a mesmerizing message of sin and salvation, right and wrong, and Heaven and Hell. 

His sermons were pure art. Bending deeply at the waist and speaking in a near whisper that sounded like a deep growl, the impassioned evangelist pointed his weapon-like finger at flinching worshippers and television viewers, threatening sinners with eternal damnation in the burning coals of Hell if they didn’t repent. Jerking upright from a twisted crouch, he pointed heavenward shouting, “Glory, Glory, Glory,” as he sobbed for unsaved souls, who had not yet found Jesus. Pausing only to peek at his gold Rolex to ensure the sermon was on schedule, the evangelist attacked heathen politicians, Godless Supreme Court Justices, the satanic news media and religious denominations that deviated from his homegrown theology. 

Swaggart came down especially hard on the Roman Catholic Church, describing it as “a false cult.” Saving Catholics from the Pope and priests, he explained, was a “burden” God had placed on him. In an ironic criticism, Jimmy noted that priesthood celibacy resulted in “innumerable sordid, tragic, and sometimes vile scandals.” Also high on his list of sinners, were do-gooder “secular humanists”―a phrase he spit out like an obscenity in describing people, who offered worldly solutions to quandaries he deemed spiritual. By the time Brother Jimmy finished maligning secular humanists, Catholics and others failing to pass his entrance exams to Heaven, members of his congregations were worked into such an emotional lather that they appeared poised to dash from the arenas and kick the atheistic asses of the Lord’s hell-bound enemies. Better yet, they were willing to pay to get the job done. He was a master at shouting “Hellfire” in a crowded church, causing panic-stricken sinners to extinguish flames with buckets of money. 

Swaggart’s carefully choreographed crusades were actually made-for-television productions in which he took command of the minds, hearts and wallets of frenzied followers. They were his co-stars. Audiences laughed when he laughed and cried when he cried. Every inflection of his voice, catch in his throat or tremulous sob stirred a reaction. Throughout sermons, congregants passionately prayed aloud and spoke in unknown tongues, a gibberish that is peculiar to Pentecostals. 

I believe that Jimmy believed in the message he delivered to an electronic congregation so vast that he was caught up in an endless cycle of having to raise money to stay on television to raise more money. The pressure of fundraising led to compromises and spiritual manipulation that formed the basis of my first Swaggart investigative documentary, Give Me That Big Time Religion. 

But sadly for Swaggart, and tragically for the untold numbers of followers who put more faith in Jimmy rather than his message, it was the big lie—sex addiction—that made his name synonymous with hypocrisy.

Glenn Beck can blubber, prance before cameras and claim to have a hotline to God like Jimmy. But if he doesn’t believe his own bullshit, the similarities end. Beck is more than just a hypocrite. He is an out and out liar who has no conscience, nor does he have any respect for country. 

My memoir, Odyssey of a Derelict Gunslinger, is available at amazon.com and independent bookstores. It offers much more than $19.99 worth of laughs. It is an account of my illustrious (I choose the adjectives) career.