If you believe in teleportation (being moved from place to place by means of magic or something like it), then you might have seen the story about Gregg Phillips, who is some sort of senior official with the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) and said, during a podcast whose audience is likely in the single digits that he "was involved in multiple incidents of teleportation, including once where (my)car was flown through the air to a church and once where (I) ended up at a Waffle House, like 50 miles away from where I was.”
Gregg, my man, many of us have had episodes where we find ourselves with syrup all over us after a night out. I don't know about cars sprouting wings and coming to a landing at First Baptist, but I'm sure it could happen.
Phillips claims the Waffle House in question is in Rome, Ga. The New York Times went down to Rome, ordered a #2 platter with eggs over easy, and grilled the staff about any recent teleportations. No one saw anything of the sort, although they did agree that a pickup truck loaded with U of Georgia football fans drove into the lot, tried to stop, but couldn't, due to failing brake pads. Seems accurate.
In Times-ese: "None of the interviewees said they were aware of anyone traveling to the 24-hour restaurants by paranormal means.”
"I’ve seen it all,” (and don't you know THAT'S true!) longtime Waffle House server Shastoni Burge told the paper. “But I’ve never seen that.”
But Phillips, the man who said it happened to him, came back with a tweeter: “God will not be mocked. People can debate me. Question me. Even ridicule what they don’t understand. I know what I’ve experienced. I know Who (sic) I serve.”
No one here is mocking God. We respect God. Guess whom I don't.
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