So...what do they plan to do with all of those swords, axes, spears and clubs?
I get the impression that the artist is a young person who definitely has talent worth developing as an illustrator. He/she may also be having some sexual fantasies about missionaries (perhaps at a very subliminal, repressed level) that are not fully in line with the ostensible "mission" that the missionaries are supposedly called to carry out.
In my experience, there have always been a few buff missionaries. But it's more typical to see missionaries who look like they would struggle to lift a 1-gallon milk jug over their head and whose clothes are too baggy and never quite fit.
From this illustration, I get a strong impression in my mind that the next scene depends on who meets them at the door. They are then offered with a choice of (1) watching the buff "Indians" do a sexy dance by themselves, (2) watching the buff "Indians" and "White Mormons" do a sexy dance with each other; or (3) getting a masochistically pleasurable "beating" from one of the buff "Indians" or buff "White Mormons" or any combination thereof.
Oh, that brings back memories. I remember getting a list of all the things I should bring on my mission.
All the essentials....clothing, bathroom stuff, church books, sword, battle ax, spear, shield, umbrella, sun glasses, etc.
I remember one companion that arrived fresh from the MTC and he had neglected to bring his battle ax. Do you know how hard it is to find a battle ax on a tiny Caribbean island. We had to get permission from the Mission President so he could use a machete as a substitute......good times!
That's exactly what it looks like when the missionaries are on your porch if you look with your spiritual eyes. Unless the nephite warriors are busy guarding the MTC or something and could make the appointment
The guys in the background are the Sons of Helaman, there to keep you from masturbating. Today's organization by the same name is for kids who can't stop masturbating. And since masturbation is among the sins "next only to murder in seriousness," wanking off could ruin the world as we know it.
No big deal--they knew I was Mormon, and they have to have somebody to talk to in this thankless task.
Because I live alone, I went out on my covered porch and set awhile to talk with them, and gave them each an energy bar.
At the time, I still had a Christmas decoration hanging on my porch (one my husband designed and made), and they agreed to take it to my back-yard shed, at the side of my garage, to put it away--happy to be of service and do something useful.
"This is what I think of myself" by some naive kid brainwashed into looking forward to going on a Mormon mission. We could come up with the rest.. What my Mom thinks of me... baby being fed to wolves What my friends think of me... naive kid What I'm really like... awkward 18 year-old with ill-fitting suit
AAAAAARRRRGGGGGHH! You just gave me PTSD flashbacks!
This accurately illustrates the thugs that kept beating at my door, after 9:30 at night, when I was living alone! There were only 2 or 3 of them, usually, but this is how they behaved!
Notice, there are no females. I'm sure this is how the Mormon males envision themselves--as warriors--coming to fight with you, until you give in and give them your money and your children!
This brings to mind the Primary song, "We Are As The Armies of Helaman," one of the Mormons' tools to promote abuse, violence, male Mormon supremacy.
I was assaulted with attempted rape by one of these, who hid in the shadows on the BYU campus, and jumped on me, threw me to the ground, and broke my arm. I married one of them in the temple, who beat me so badly, that I barely escaped with my life. Violent, hateful Mormons! Here I go...PTSD nightmares tonight.
No--instead, I went back and re-read some of your hilarious comments here. Crisis averted. Thanks!