Wherever Fine Gifts Are Sold
As you may know, My boys’ birthday is fast approaching and every year you get off easy. I’m the one who has to stump up for two presents. While all of you are busy stuffing your faces and wondering which gift to open first, (which, frankly, boggles My mind – it’s not even your birthday), I’m stuck handing out goodies to the twins without so much as a cracker in return. Oh, sure, Santa usually stops by with a sack of cookies, but it never fails that He’s eaten the best ones before He shows up. On top of that, He invariably mooches six or seven glasses of My famous Jameson Egg Nog and bitches about His holiday piles.
After 2,000-some-odd years it’s very, very hard to find the boys something new in the way of gifts. It’s gotten to the point where I have to turn My omniscience on just to surprise Them. Well, this year it paid off in a couple of ways. First, I’ve found excellent presents. For Republican Jesus, there’s Playing Gods. Not only does it look like a hoot, it’s good practice for Him. Eventually, I’ll retire completely and He’s going to need to know what He’s doing. besides that, it seems to be popular with “the hip subculture of militant popular atheists“, or My Chosen People. For Hippie Jesus, I found Blasphemy. Which Messiah will be The Messiah? It’s a chance for Him to relive His glory days and maybe, just maybe, get it right this time. And anyway, I figure that if He sees He can’t win the game without getting crucified, it’ll take some of the sting out of the real thing. The boy is still edgy around hammers.
The second thing My omniscience revealed to me, (and this is where you should really listen up), is that the more these games sell, the lower the price will be. So what I, Lord of Lords, El-Shaddai, Yahweh, Master of the Universe, &tc., am commanding you to do is chip in. That’s right. For once in your miserable consumerist existence, help Me do something for The Jesii. I’m not asking for a whip-round; just do what you always do at this time of year. Buy stuff. Buy stuff so I don’t have to dip into the vacation fund this year. Is that too much to ask command? Or is Bill O’Reilly right? Have you declared War On My Boys’ Birthday?
Wish You Were Here,