So lets consider three possible scenarios, the first of which assumes that the churchgoing folk are correct in their assumption that the dry-wall is actually a manifestation of Jesus Christ who has temporarily taken up residence in the church. Based on these facts, let us try and construct a psychological profile of the guy. Why would Mr Christ, if he really wished to make his presence felt to all mankind, turn to such a low-key location such as this bombed out church, that too, in Shitholeville, Alabama? 'Cause if I were Jesus, and I were to decide, fuck this, I've had it with this godforsaken shadowy life where some atheistic fools are even beginning to question my very existence. "Father, I'll be right back, I'm just gonna step into the spotlight for a second, let me know if you need anything from the grocery", I would call out to God as I leave my heavenly abode and walk on to the heavenly escalator that would take me down to earth.
And I sure-as-hell, pardon my French, wouldn't choose the Triumph Learning and Worship Center for Life in Saraland, Alabama to be the site of my miracle. No, sir. Not some crummy old dry-wall in a crummy old town. You know what would be a great miracle instead, one that would capture the hearts and minds of the faithful and cause non-believers to shit their pants in fear and join the Republican Party? I would turn the entire Statue of Liberty into my crucifixion. And instead of holding the torch I would just give the world the finger. They've had it coming for a while. And rather than make 'em take a Greyhound bus to Saraland Alabama (I don't even know if Greyhound does Alabama) to get healed after touching the dry-wall, I would just make 'em take the elevator to Lady Liberty's thorn-covered head and offer a simple prayer. Wouldn't that allow me to heal many more people at a time? Surely there are a lot more sick people in Manhattan and the Tri-state area than there are in Saraland, Alabama? 'Cause if I had the power to heal people and I didn't, what would that make me? A callous cruel bastard, that's what. Why would anyone even pray to me then?
But apparently Jesus isn't entering Lady Liberty's copper body. Instead, he's down south in Saraland, Alabama, sitting in a fucking dry-wall which probably smells like a sewer too 'cause of the hurricane. And the only scientific explanation behind Jesus' strangely antisocial behavior is that he's actually an introvert. He doesn't prefer to be in the limelight. He is only comfortable among a small group of men, mostly his friends, and has to take a couple of hours off for every hour he has to turn "on" in order to interact socially as he performs miracles.
Either that, or the entire story is bogus, it's a scam pulled off by the Triumph Learning and Worship Center for Life in Saraland, Alabama in order to extort cash from the gullible fools that comprise the citizenry in that neck of the woods.
The third and final scenario is one that I would very much hope for. Namely, that dry-wall has miraculous curative properties and that touching it can cure maladies as diverse as kidney failure and a poor eyesight. Hey, maybe it could even be the elusive AIDS medicine we've been looking for all this time. Or it could be that other elusive drug, the functionally impeccable erection inducer that never ever leads to a 4 hour erection, not even in the rarest of rare cases that might require you to go to a doctor and explain why you were taking an erection inducer in the first place. It might be too soon to celebrate, but hell, I'm keeping my fingers crossed.