This is the 21st Century. Why not have God's inspired technology bring to the big screen a day in the life a modern day prophet?

I think it was already done in the 1950s--I Was a Teenage Zombie. Boner.

Better then that, why doesn't Monson host a daily call in show, taking live questions from the public, providing spiritual counsel directly from God. People would be in such awe at hearing God's one and only prophet on earth, who stands at the same level as Moses of old, they'd surely join the church by the millions every month.

LOL! Hinckley tried it and failed because he had nothing to offer humanity except lies.

He couldn't be honest with Mike Wallace and had to admit it in General Conference.

Here's your sign world.

Haha just like "Jesus and Pals" if you catch the reference

...brought to you by Snacky S'mores.

Very funny, very funny.

Yeah, they would surely join by the millions after hearing the Very Charismatic Speaker himself, the Monsoon, attempt to weez out words before passing out.

Could get tens of millions more converts if he would (please, please Tommy) add his mouth-dropping-ear-wiggling-act.

Never! "The less real exposure the better," is their motto. Mormons must keep their secrets. They only want people to interview the LDS spokesperson on behalf of the church president. It's better to be worshipped from afar, more like the Popes of old, than to become the People's Prophet. Mormons like the PR hype, the Ensign articles, the "Meet The Mormons" garbage. In fact, the Mormons need to shut up, and just be seen in their yellow tee shirts at disaster sites. TSCC needs more disasters.

Meet the Monson would be filmed all homey-like, with Monson and his grandchildren and great-grandchildren gathered around for breakfast (shouldn't the kids be in school? are those rosy cheeks painted on?). Pancakes in the shape of cureloms, and his first hit of Pepsi for the day, to wash down a pile of pills.

At 11:00 a chauffeured limo takes Monson to his office, while Camilla's (wives are named Camilla or Flora) hairdresser and makeup artist and wardrobe specialist arrive from Neiman Marcus (deep discounts apply, or maybe it's free.) In his office, Monson orders another Pepsi, and takes calls from a couple of widows, pre-screened from his staff, of course. He ignores my letter, and 300 other letters from other women in my situation, who are have been married to abusive wife-beaters, in the temple, and are begging to be granted a temple divorce. Monson does glance at one of the letters, because the name "Eyring" catches his eye. "This abusive husband is still a member in good standing--he might be future mission president material."

Lunch is a lavish spread at the exclusive Alta Club, or he has it catered in from the Hotel Utah. Prime rib, potatoes and gravy, broccoli and cabbage (causes lots of gas), pumpkin pie for dessert, all washed down with Pepsi. He gets mad at the help, because the didn't bring him his customary temple salt shaker. He's afraid perhaps one of his worshippers stole it to put on their shrine, next to their Christus statue. (Actually, his personal physician hid the salt.

Next, a nap to sleep off the lunch, in the bedroom adjoining his office, behind the fake-bookcase door. (You didn't think he had read all those books, did you.) Of course, the cameras are off for this.

The documentary cameras are ready when he opens his outer office door, ears wiggling, for his favorite part of the day. He has made himself available for random visitors. Monson sits at his great deskm made from the maple tree under which his mother gave birth to him, on the way to church. The President is flanked on either side by giant Tongans, and two other old, bald men who constantly whisper in his ear, Monson visits with a widow, a Marine in uniform, a white-gloved mayor of a village in (Ebola-safe) East Africa, a Native American (don't call them Lamanites anymore) student at BYU, and that skateboarder dude from the "I Am A Mormon" series. Unfortunately, Gladys Knight and Steve young were otherwise engaged, but they'll be in the next documentary.

Monson politely excuses himself from the rest of the people waiting to see him--three long-haired women in matching dresses with puffy sleeves, and a woman in a man's business suit. He announces that he--even Monson--must go do a session in the temple. (He doesn't know its closed for cleaning, but one bald man whispers something in his ear.)

Skip to Monson and Camilla have a lovely family dinner (he's wearing full suit and tie). What has been happening for the last 3 hours? Revelations? Prayers? No, just more nap-time) All 250 members of his family are at dinner, and the camera pans from room to room. Everyone is eating a different individual meal, which is strange. There is a pious and sonorous blessing on the food given by Monson's son, but it is cut off, because of the time. A little girl in full camera makeup asks, "Did you help any widows today, Grammpy?" Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! All the rooms full of tables laugh. See, they know that Monson gets kidded about widows! Mormons can laugh at themselves. See what happy people they are. Dessert is a birthday cake, and they all sing "Happy Birthday," and gather on the couches and chairs for a family-photo-PR-opportunity. In the background is a large poster for the "Meet The Mormons" movie.

What a great sketch. It is so homey and heavenly, one would think Jesus ought to make a cameo appearance on it before his big show where he destroys lots of people not like The Monson Family!