Dear Wolverhampton University…

A Sumerian and a priest walk into a bar...

A Sumerian and a priest walk into a bar...

Wulfruna Street, Wolverhampton, WV1 1LY

 

Dear Dr. McDonald,

 

  I had forgotten all about that one!  Wow, that takes Me back.  Old Gilgamesh could have been the world’s first stand-up comic.  Every time I’d drop by He would do this thing… oh, Me – I’m laughing too hard to write.  Hang on… hang on.  Okay, every time I’d come by He would do this thing where He’d hold out His finger and say… oh, Me, it cracks Me up just thinking about it… He’d say, “Pull My finger.”  Then, and this is the ball-bouncingly funny bit, He would pass wind!  Every time!  I fell for it every time and it just never got old.  Of course, He did, eventually.  As one of your great philosophers once said, “What a drag it is getting old.” Especially if you’re only partially deified.

 

  Now that I think about it, even if You’re a bona-fide, full-fledged, dues-paying member of the Deity Club, the steady accumulation of years is no big picnic.  Sure, when You’re a hotshot young deity with the world at Your feet and the heady smoke of burning ram or bull in Your nostrils life is one big party and You’re the birthday boy.  Everybody wants You to make the sun rise the next day and everybody wants to ingratiate themselves with the joke about the camel trader, the horse trader and the slave trader, (punch line:  “Thank [insert deity joke is being told to] I’m not a woman!”).  But ask Zeus, (“Old Granddad”), how things are going these days.  Or Mars, (God of war; kind of inept; kind of a dick), or Athena, (God of war & technology; smart as a whip; pretty hot in a geeky kind of way), or Mentos, (Minor spirit/god of a small peppermint tree that died January 5th, 1237 BCE).  You’ll get an earful about all the ungrateful SOB’s who never so much as toast half a stalk of cellery to you anymore and how insensitive it is to leave Them hanging all these years.

 

  If I’ve explained to Them once I’ve explained to Them a thousand times – You gotta change with the times.  Do you think I’d have enough money for all the exciting vacations if I didn’t tread a very fine line between all that hippie peace & love crap and the old “kill ‘em all and piss on sorting them out” routine?

 

  Of course, Zeus changed a number of times, himself.  Actually, a lot of Them did and that’s… that’s kind of depressing when you think about it.  I mean, I’m no spring chicken anymore.  Every time I see Apocalypse Now and Robert Duvall says “Someday this war’s gonna end,” I really feel his pain.  Someday, folks will move on to some new flavor of the millenium who gives out free bacon-infused vodka or something.  Or maybe they’ll just realize they don’t need any of us.  Either way, I’ll be screwed and probably hanging out with that annoying frickin’ Mentos bastard.

 

  All the more reason to get in some serious vacationing while I can.

 

  I started this postcard just to thank you for reminding Me of that old Sumerian joke and got kind of sidetracked.  Sorry.  I know you don’t want to hear Me get all maudlin.  So, keep up the good work and don’t forget to give money to your local church.  First class airline tix don’t grow on trees – and that’s no joke.

 

Wish You Were Here,

 

~Gawd

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