By “someone” I mean “you”; and by “trouble” I mean “a catastrophic sueing”. Perhaps you weren’t aware, (and I’m open to this possibility because you all probably had a Texas state education), that this religious book of “historical & literary value” you want to teach to the exclusion of all others is an unauthorized biography. That’s right. A bunch of religious politicians, (and I mean that to sting), got together in Nicea while I was vacationing in Alexandrea and published the thing. It is a tissue of whoppers, a lexicon of libels only loosely based on My life and, most importantly, it generates no royalties for Me.
Is it that I’ve been too lenient? Is that it? You were afraid to stiff Allah and Kagutsuchi and Thor and Krishna, but you figured Gawd was just a bitch you could slap around. Right? “Gawd’s just like the town drunk and if He complains we can pull out our six-shooters and make Him dance,” eh?
Well, it seems you haven’t been paying attention. Like most unauthorized works, there are grains of truth scattered through this book you want to teach royalty-free. I have, from time to time, sent a prophet or two. There was one, though, whom I loved more than all the others combined. Perhaps you’re familiar with His story? He was a quiet man whom I sent to lead the young and weak, to gather the lost and keep all on the Right Path. When confronted with Evil He could have destroyed those who came against Him with fire and smoke, but He turned His cheeks and His enemies killed Him. But He had taught His followers well, and they turned on the Evil Ones and slew them without mercy.
That part always chokes Me up.
The point here, Lege, is that what you have taken for weakness is just a) Me not liking to do My own dirty work and b) My aversion to interupting My vacation. So now, you’re like Bruce Dern, thinking you’re home-free because I haven’t dropped a hurricane on your ass. But all around you are My cowboys; Fire, Brimstone & Wrath, LLC. My ghost-riders in the sky, if you will. My Lawyers of the Apocolypse.
Pilgrims, you’ve picked a fight you can’t win. A reckoning of biblical proportions is upon you… no pun intended.
Wish You Were Here,