Dome of The Pumpkin, The Pumpkin Patch Out Back of Linus’s House
I heard You were a little down, so I thought I’d write to cheer You up a bit. I know it must be hard only having one brand-loyalist, but believe Me, You’re doing everything right. You’re following all the basic guidelines We learned in deity school and You’ve put Your own twist on it. There’s no reason You shouldn’t have droves of brand-loyalists threatening to cut off the top of anyone’s head who eats a slice of pumpkin pie. Wild mobs of brand-loyalists ought to be rampaging through the streets every time The Prophet Linus’s face is depicted in a newspaper, (This postcard gets a dispensation, right?).
Your craft is impeccable. You’ve steadfastly refused to show Yourself to even Your most devout follower. You’ve never, ever broken down and grown back anyone’s lost limbs. You’ve neither rewarded Your brand-loyalist for waiting faithfully at the Dome of the Pumpkin nor punished him for falling asleep. You’ve allowed Your base, (of one, but I’m sure that will change), to devise his own reasons why You don’t appear. Hell, You didn’t even smite Lucy when she said that anyone sitting in a pumpkin patch for five days was crazy!
I don’t mean to denigrate Your brand-loyalist, but I’ve long thought that You need a base with more of that Halloween Spirit. Also, if You don’t mind a little constructive criticism, I suggest that You get a stack of quality parchment and a good pen, smear Your brand-loyalist with PCP while he’s sleeping and maybe he’ll churn out a book. It doesn’t have to be good or useful or even coherent. Just something he can point to and declare as proof of Your existence. Once You’ve got that, it’s a very short step to legions of Squashists blithely laying out dozens of other proofs. “The C. Maxima is too complex not to have been created!” “This Jack O’ Lantern cured my lumbago!” “Look how many of us believe in The Great Pumpkin! How could He not be real?!” “I feel The Great Pumpkin in my heart, every day!”
From there, they can take over a little country. Some place with good, well-drained soil. before You know it, no one who isn’t a brand-loyalist will be able to dream of public office. Non-believers will be crushed. Their currency will be orange. “Thou shalt have no gourds before Me” will be set in stone in the courthouses. Millions and millions will be spent on the eradication of Bacterial Wilt and Powdery Mildew, while a cure for cancer made from pumpkin seeds will languish. Genetic modification of crops will be a capital offense. When anyone does something bad they’ll say “The Cucumber Beetle made me do it,” and the good people will be those with sincere pumpkin patches.
I almost envy You. The beginning of a project like this is always the best part. When You muck in and roll up Your sleeves and get right down to a good, solid bit of doing nothing. Look at Me. All I’ve got left is a perpetual first-class vacation funded by My millions of brand-loyalists. You’ve got a real project ahead of You. The ducking behind a tree just in the nick of time before someone sees You, the sitting quietly in Your kitchen with the Times crossword, the effervescent joy of trying to hold in a high-pitched giggle so the Me’s Witnesses at the door don’t hear You. Yes, You’ve got it made, My friend. You’ve got it made.
So, buck up, little squasheroo. This is the first day of the rest of Your godhood.
Wish You Were Here,
P.S. – I’m having Ares, Zeus, The Easter Bunny, Shiva and Santa Claus over for Thanksgiving. You’re more than welcome to come by. Bring a pie or something.