This is not an easy letter for Me to write. We have a long and complex history together. Over all, I would say that I have been pleased with you. Well, perhaps “pleased” isn’t quite the word I’m looking for. More like “generally content”. I mean, I’m sure there have been times that I was pleased with you, I just can’t recall any off the top of My head. Sure, you’ve angered Me once or twice… or more, but I’m sure you understood the smitings and pogroms and holocausts and such as the constructive criticism it was meant to be.
That’s why, even though I’ve consistently chosen you to pal around with over the years, My decision to cut you loose has been such a difficult one.
Now, please, don’t kvetch. This doesn’t mean that you’re not My khevre anymore or that I won’t “helfn” you from time to time when you need a hand. We can still khavern zikh, but I’m sure you understand why you’ll probably be blackballed at your golf club next week.
The thing is, I’ve found a new Chosen People. You see, the folks over at Pew have discovered a group that just cries out to be Chosen: Atheists Who Believe in Me. That’s right. Evidently 20% of atheists believe in Yours Truly. Go figure, huh? It’s probably no secret that I have a bit of a soft spot for atheists. Not just because they aren’t always bothering Me, but also because they’re good conversationalists and they don’t believe in things that can’t be proved. Also, they have carnivals. When was the last time you invited Me to a carnival, eh?
I didn’t want to Choose all atheists, because, frankly, they’re even harder to control than you are. But when I heard about this 20% I thought I’d died and gone Home. Finally! All the things I admire in Richard Dawkins plus a disposition to believe in someone who can’t be bothered to drop round their house on a Saturday afternoon, (I usually crank-call Saturn around then).
I’m sure you’ll be saddened to know that all the attention, love and good fortune I’ve showered on you over the years will now be transferred to My Chosen Twenty-Percenters. I’m afraid you’ll just have to suck it up and make the best of it. Sorry for the inconvenience.
Wish You Were Here,