Monthly Archives: August 2008

A Word from Gawd’s Press Agent

Dessert Manna PR, Inc.

Contact:  Metatron

Ph:  (020) LOR6 8500

Cell:  (020) OPS1 1331

GAWD RECEIVES ‘BLOG’ AWARD

Honored With ‘Golden Primate’

 

New York, NY -Aug. 30, 2008-  Rambling On today announced that Lord Gawd Almighty, Alpha & Omega, Fertilizer of Crops, Bringer of the Sun, Two-Time Augusta, GA Ping Pong Champion, Agent of Birth & Death, Planting & Reaping, Killing & Healing, Laughing & Crying, Dancing & Mourning, &tc. has been awarded the prestigious Golden Calf Primate Award.  This award, presented once each time a deity’s pet project evolves enough to begin understanding that the joke is on them, is one of the highest honors that a Designer can receive.  The award itself, fashioned from unanswered prayers, wishful thinking and lost-baggage claim-tickets alchemically transmogriphied into gold, weighs just over 1200 pounds and easily fits into an airline overhead luggage compartment.

Reached via air-ground radiotelephone service, Gawd had this to say:

How do you… is this thing on?  I can’t… oh, I’ve got it now.  …  I don’t see why I should be bothered.  Can’t you make something up, like everyone else?  …  Oh, all right.  Here goes.

Wow.  I’m nearly speechless.  I suppose it’s customary to thank all of the people who made this possible – namely, Me.  So, Gawd, here’s to you, pal.  I couldn’t have done it without Me.  [laughter] No… [laughter] That’s just My little joke.  [laughter]  But seriously… it’s all Me.  Ever since I was a little Gawd, no more than a formless fear of what was outside the cave, I have striven for excellence in everything I do.  I chose some smelly goat herders in the desert as My People and now, only a few thousand years, a pogrom or ten and a holocaust later… voila!  A number of country clubs will now let them join.  I like to think that I have brought the same care, attention and work-ethic to bear in finding your lost car keys, making sure your wife doesn’t find out what you did at that convention and defending the poor and needy.  It’s just the kind of deity I Am.  I couldn’t be any other way.

There.  Is that it, Metatron?  …  You want me to do what?!  Thomas H. Cruise!  Are you out of your frickin mind?  That statue is Mine…  …  Oh, not literally, then?  Yeah, alright, what the hey.  It don’t cost nuthin.  By the way, is this thing fungible?  Can We melt it down and sell it to a jeweller or something?  …  Alright, alright.  We’ll talk about it when I get to Tokyo.  Here goes.

My publicist tells Me that it’s customary to spread the wealth, (metaphorically, thank Me), when receiving this eminent award.  So let’s see – I would say “PZ Myers“, but, (to paraphrase Douglas MacArthur), he’s got too many Me-Damned awards as it is.  Okay, how about…

My boy and His roommate over at Jesus & Mo.

My cranky body-double who will slow down the mob if the revolution ever comes, “God“.

And, oh, I dunno… some broad I met in a bar named Skepchick.

I hope you’re satisfied, Metatron.  The ice in My scotch melted while I was dicking around with you.  I’ll talk to you after I get to the hotel.  Wish you were here, you putz.  Bye.

# # #

If you would like more information about this topic, or to schedule an interview with Gawd, please call Metatron at the number above.  Written requests may be submitted via MetatronAtDessertManna.hvn.

Dear Pope Benedict XVI…

Reuters

Photo: Reuters

Vatican City

Dear Benny,

  Hey, how’s it going?  I saw this card and I couldn’t resist.  I was waiting on a flight out of Hawaii and spotted it in the duty-free shop.  Isn’t it a hoot?  It’s called “First the Feet”.  I sent one to My boy, Hippie Jesus, too.  He probably won’t think it’s as funny as you and I do, but, hey – it’s time He lightened up about taking a few odd’s bodkins through the ulnas.  I mean, every deity has an initiation ceremony when They join the club, right?  Hell, His brother, Republican Jesus, had to give a huge donation to a charity for the poor – anonymously!  Now that must have been painful; am I right?

  Anyhoo, I’m sorry you missed the big luau here this week, but it’s probably for the best.  Fabulinus & Vagitanus dropped by and it might have been awkward, seeing as how They’re Children’s Gods.  They tend to feel that pedarast-enablers are kind of offensive.  Live and let live is My motto; so long as the brand loyalists keep tithing to pay for My vacations, of course.

  They’re boarding My flight, so I’ve got to go.  I just thought you’d get a kick out of the card.  Maybe you can squeeze in a trip to the Museion and see the real thing, eh?

Wish You Were Here,

~Gawd

Dear Hillary Clinton…

wahasurfshop.com

Photo: wahasurfshop.com

15 Old House Ln.  Chapaqua, NY 10514

 

Dear Hillary,

 

  I just wanted to drop you a quick card to thank you for sending all of these atheists out here to Our impromptu beach party.  When the Democratic National Convention made it clear that atheists weren’t welcome I tossed out an informal invitation to join Me and a couple of My old Deity School chums, Akua & Kanaloa, in Hawaii.  The turnout was great, as I was telling My boys yesterday.  Thanks to you, though, more and more atheists keep showing up.  Now, besides yesterday’s atheists and some pals from Discworld, Our little luau has got magicians, lawyers, filmmakers and a good many scientists.

 

  Personally, I think you made a bad choice.  I’ve always found that the only thing about atheists that chaps My holy fundament is that they don’t tithe toward My airfare and hotel costs.  So, in that respect, I’d like to see fewer atheists.  I can barely squeak by as it is.  On the other hand, if all I ever had to talk to were the brand loyalists, I’d go nuts.  Speaking of brand loyalists, thanks for not cutting loose those “Hillary or Nothing” folks of yours.  They’re the last people I’d want to show up at one of My parties.  They’re worse losers than the Hittites.

 

  Anyway, I ought to get back to the party.  I’d invite you, too, but I think some of these guys worked on a number of election campaigns.  So they might be a little miffed with you and your friends right now.  Okay, really must go – they’re daring Me to resurrect Mark Twain.

 

Wish You Were Here,

 

~Gawd

Dear Jesii…

C/O Democratic National Convention

 

Dear Boys,

 

  Having a wonderful time in Hawaii.  I hope You’re having a good time in Denver.  Better You than Me, I say.

 

  Speaking of, I’m quite glad the Democrats kicked the atheists out of the convention.  If they hadn’t, My trip wouldn’t be nearly as fun.  As You know, I just popped over to the Islands for a quick visit with Akua, My Polynesian opposite number, and Kanaloa, god of death and squid.  We thought We might go to a luau and maybe do a little surfing before I hopped a flight to Finland, Akua took a 30-year power nap and Kanaloa got back to work on His monograph for the Journal of Experimental Marine Biology & Ecology.  But then, just as a gesture – since I kind of like them, I invited the millions of American atheists who suddenly had nowhere to go, to come out to Hawaii for an impromptu party.

 

  And We have been having a ball.  Back before I retired I had to take a pretty hard line with them, you know; business is business.  Now that I’m retired, though, I find they make for much better company than the Gawd-Botherers.  (That’s not to say that all the brand loyalists shouldn’t keep giving Me money, obviously.  Be sure to remind them of it at the DNC.)

 

  Anyway, like I said, We’re having a blast.  Once the atheists started showing up, so did Everyone else.  Some of those crazy Discworld guys hopped in a VW microbus and have been crashing on Ohiri’s couch.  It’s always nice to see those nutty bastards, but I must say My feelings are mixed about Bilious, God of Hangovers being here.  PZ Myers really hit it off with Kanaloa.  They’ve been keeping us all in stitches with squid tricks.  The Friendly Atheist showed up and read to us from Illustrated Stories from the Bible.  Possum Momma gave us all biblical parenting tips around a spooky campfire last night that even left Errata, Goddess of Misunderstandings, scared and appalled.  Flying Spaghetti Monster flew in and fed the multitude with meatballs.  Then Christopher Hitchens crashed the party, got roaring drunk and wrestled Offler, the crocodile god.  Petulia, Goddess of Negotiable Affection, stood on top of a picnic table and told all the atheists that they only showed up so they could sin.  It brought the house down.

 

  I’m telling You, You’re missing a great time.  This party may go on for weeks.  I’ve already postponed My flight to Finland and I’ve never seen Akua look so awake.  So, look; as soon as You’ve got all the Democratic Gawd-Botherers lined up and kissing Your Holy Asses, fly on down here.  Everyone’s asking about You.  Don’t bother to go to the RNC.  We could shit in their oatmeal every morning and they’d ask for more while pulling out their wallets.

 

Wish You Were Here,

 

~Gawd

Dear Atheists…

Hawaiianluauparty.com

Photo: Hawaiianluauparty.com

Hawaii, USA

 

Dear Atheists,

 

  I just heard that you’re going to be in Hawaii, instead of at the Democratic National Convention.  That’s great news.  I’m headed that way, myself.  I’ll be getting together with Akua, My Polynesian opposite number, and Kanaloa, God of Death & Squid, for a good, old-fashioned luau and a little surfing.  We’d be happy to have you along; a little intelligent conversation wouldn’t go amiss.  Just, whatever you do, don’t show up Kanaloa on the longboard.  Believe Me, a kraken in the small of the back can cast something of a pall on the fun.

 

  If it makes you feel better about missing the convention, I was invited to speak at both, but turned them down.  I tell them every four years that I’m on vacation, but it’s almost as if they’re not listening.  I tell them and tell them; the two things I’ll never do again are politics and acting.  I’d have to be meshuga!  It’s already hard enough getting through the airport with all the security.  Can you imagine if there were autograph hounds and press to wade through?

 

  I wonder sometimes if all of your politicians are mentally unstable.  I mean, Thomas H. Cruise!  You’d think after 230-some-odd years of quite conspicuous absence, they’d get the point.  The last time I got involved in politics and named someone “king by the grace of Me”, was Louis XVI.  Oy vey, what a disaster!  I had to invent the word “oik” just for him.  Of course, he was never as bad as this king you fellows have now; George II.  Oh, wait… you call them “presidents” now, don’t you.  Anyway, the point still stands.  I didn’t elect him, your Supreme Court did.  All I did was say that if he had such a problem with Saddam, why didn’t he take his lunch money and give him a wedgie?  Next thing you know, BAM!  “Gawd told me to invade Iraq.”  If that’s not unstable, I don’t know what is.

 

  Anyway, I’ve gotten off-topic a little.  I just wrote to invite you guys to a luau and some surfing because I prefer your company.  You don’t lose your minds if I have a drink or two and make a pass at the waitress.  We can talk science & archaeology, experiment with coconut rum and eat calamari in front of Kanaloa.  Just promise Me, no religion and no politics.  I’m on vacation.

 

Wish You Were Here,

 

~Gawd

Dear Sick People…

Everywhere I Look

 

Dear Sickies,

 

  I usually don’t have the opportunity to read anything other than Skymall and barf bag instructions, but last Father’s day My boys got Me one of those newfangled telephonic contraptions you can read the intertubes on.  So I was sitting in Marseille Provence Airport, trying to tell the phone to upgrade My upcoming flight to 1st Class, and suddenly I was staring at some story about how I am the most popular doctor in America.

 

  This was certainly news to Me.  Until relatively recently I thought you humans could survive inside a whale’s stomach for indefinite periods and new people could be made out of a hank of hair, a piece of bone and some mud.  So, considering that I don’t really know anything about physiology and I don’t have a medical degree, perhaps all of those people think I’m a chiropractor.

 

  Whatever the case, I think I should clear this up.  My brand loyalists are constantly sending Me postcards asking Me to heal someone.  Usually themselves or someone who owes them money.  However, I thought I had made it clear by never answering them, that healing isn’t really My thing.  To quote a bowling buddy of Mine, “I don’t roll on Shabbas”, where “roll” is “heal” and “on Shabbas” is “ever”.  I still kept getting tons of postcards, though.  When I decided I would just answer them all with “No”, the postcards just kept coming.  So, please, listen up America:  I am not saying “yes” and I am not saying “no”.  I am simply not answering your pleas.  First, because I’m on vacation.  Second, because I couldn’t afford the malpractice insurance even if I wanted to help.  Finally, (and I’m appalled this didn’t occur to you), you’re asking for socialized medicine!

 

  Why should you get medical care you didn’t pay for, hmm?  Every time you whine for something free like some sort of foreigner it not only makes My boys, the Jesii, cry – but it is an affront to everything that your country stands for.  Well, you can do what you want to My boys, but I’m not going to stand here and listen to you bad-mouth the United States of America!

 

Wish You Were Here,

 

~Gawd

Dear Richard Dawkins…

Comedy Central

Photo: Comedy Central

Charles Simonyi Professor of the Public Understanding of Science, Oxford University

 

Dear Rick,

 

  You may not remember Me, but we had a short but stimulating conversation over a pint at the Lamb & Flag a few years ago.  My sons and I had a speaking engagement at Trinity College, (a deity’s got to pay for His vacations any way He can), and you were kind enough to make us feel welcome.  So I was a bit embarrassed when I heard that some of My marks suckers “brand partisans” were wishing that you would be run over by a church van.

 

  I hope it goes without saying that I don’t condone this sort of thing.  I’ve often said that I prefer atheists in most every field from simple conversation to medicine to food preparation.  Why, some of My best friends are atheists.  This is not, of course, an apology of any kind.  I’m sure you understand that it’s nothing personal.  It’s just that if I apologize for one thing, then I’ve got to apologize for everything, and what deity has that kind of time?  As many of My smarmiest and most self-righteous “brand partisans” will tell you, there is also no need to apologize because anyone who gets too partisanny isn’t a real Christian/Theist/Believer/What-have-You.  My modus operandi is to cut loose anyone who opens Me up to lawsuits and such, which I think is very white of Me.  As I may have mentioned over an excellent beer that day at the L & F, I believe in swift and terrible smiting of anyone who causes interruption in My vacation schedule.

 

  Truly, I can’t stress enough just how mortified I am that some of the people whose tithes make My full vacation schedule possible are making death threats.  And the mouths on some of them!  Phrew!  The whole thing would, I am sure, make the Baby Jesii cry if They were still babies.  It’s especially sad because you atheists are, in many ways, a very admirable people.  Why, you’re excellent typists, I understand, and you have an uncanny natural rhythm.

 

  Just like My friend, Stephen Colbert, doesn’t see color; I don’t see religion.  So I would like to invite you to be My Atheist Friend.  I’m sure it will more than make up for any death threats you’ve received.

 

Wish You Were Here,

 

~Gawd