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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.
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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.