Dear Zeus…

1 Olympus Way, Mt. Olympus, Greece

Dear Z,

  Hello, old chap, how are You?  Well, I hope.  We should get together for lunch at the club soon.

  Er… speaking of the club, the Committee has asked Me to write to You.  Not that I wouldn’t have written anyway, You understand.  I mean, We’ve been friends for ages – which is probably why They asked Me to write.  Anyway, well, the reason I’m writing – and You’ll probably laugh about this – is about Your old house on Mt. Lykiaon.  The thing is, now that Your brand-loyalists are coming back, the Committee seems to think You should clean the place up a bit.  Since You’ve got more tithes coming in, They think You should spruce the old place up.  You know, “keeping up with the Jupiters” sort of thing.

  I don’t want You to think this had anything to do with Me.  I’m a hands-off sort of deity, as You well know.  “Always leave ’em wanting more” is My motto.  Hell, I don’t have to tell You that.  You’re the chap who taught Me the old prayer trick.  Ask any of My brand-loyalists.  I always answer every prayer… except when I don’t because I move in mysterious ways.  Really, I’m just terribly embarrassed about this whole thing.  After all You did for Me when We were in school – I fagged for You when You were in 6th form!

  Look, what if I send some of My brand-loyalists around to tidy up?  It’s no trouble.  They owe You an apology, anyway, for saying Zeus worship is a “miserable resuscitation of a degenerate dead religion” and a “return to the monstrous dark delusions of the past”.  That was out of line.  I mean, saying something like that about You is the same as saying it about Me, as far as I’m concerned. 

Back when I was blacking Your sandals and making Your bed, You taught Me a lot of the moves I still use today.  I feel I owe You something.  Let Me take care of this clean-up thing.  Don’t give it another thought.  I’m sorry I even mentioned it.  The damned Committee has gotten too big for Their britches, if You ask Me.

  I’m glad that’s dealt with.  Look, come round the club next Thor’s Day and let Me buy You lunch, eh what?  I’ll round up Pluto, Bacchus and Uranus and We’ll toast Our old fag-master ’til the port runs out.

Wish You Were Here,

~Gawd

Dear Undisciplined Brand-Loyalists…

FOR HAND DELIVERY

Dear Brand-Loyalists,

  You know who I’m talking to.

  I was recently splitting a bottle of wine the boys gave Me with My Chosen Chaplain and she mentioned to Me that some of you were getting a little out of line.  She feels that you need a bit of Gawdly discipline.  I couldn’t agree more.  Because of My busy vacation schedule, I can’t be watching you 24/7.  For one thing, you’d bore Me to tears.  For another, you’ve got to learn to take care of yourselves.

  Luckily, some of you know how to apply discipline.  Like the good folks at Christian Domestic Discipline.  As they say, “[S]ome alternate lifestyles [are] evil.  If you don’t like it, take it up with Him*… good luck changing His** mind.”  They are full of helpful advice about discipline, which I don’t mind, (just this once), passing along for your edification.  First of all, ladies, when your husband seems out of line or, to coin a catchy phrase, “not as disciplined as perhaps he should be” – TOUGH.  Fem domination/male submission is right out.  That’s evil.  On the other hand, men, the first weapon in your disciplinary armoury should be what I like to call, “Over The Knee“, or OTK for short.  This is a good position from which to use a “persuader”.  A switch or paddle or dowel rod works nicely.  But nothing too big as she won’t be able to fetch you a beer or a turkey pot pie with a broken tailbone.  Get in touch with these fine role models and they can give you more tips on using a commanding tone, maintenance discipline, warming up her derriere, etc.

  Don’t think I haven’t noticed the rampant indiscipline in you young brand-loyalists.  I have.  I also understand that you learn best from “cool”, “hip”, “with it” disciplinarians.  And what could be more “cool”, or “kewl”, as I believe you say these days, than a white-face clown?  That’s where Derek Dye comes in.  Do you want to know why sex is just like juggling a bunch of machetes?  Look no farther than the Abstinence Clown.  He is, as you kids say, “keener than a barrel of monkeys”.  Just look him in the eye and you’ll see a man who knows everything there is to know about abstinence.  Let him explain to you the Brand-Loyalist’s Dream.  He’s living it, kids.  He’s living it.

  I hope this has put you all back on the straight and narrow and I won’t have to take time off My vacation to remind you all of your duty.  If you master the art of discipline as taught by these fine brand-loyalists, the most important discipline, tithing, will be as natural as beating your wife and not having sex.

Wish You Were Here,

~Gawd

*Me

**Also Me

Dear Union Public School Independent District # 9…

Thou Shalt Not Suffer A Witch to Wear Stripey Socks

6636 South Mingo Rd., Tulsa, OK  74133

Dear Shapers of Young Minds,

  I am wroth.  Not “a little wroth” or “quite wroth” or even “very wroth”.  I am “there will be weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth wroth”.  I am, not to put too fine a point on it, cheesed off to the point of leaking fire & brimstone into My morning kippers.

  Like most of My peers, I like to thumb through People Magazine before breakfast.  It’s a good way to ease the old omniscient grey-matter into the day without any tedious thinking.  This morning I picked one off the bottom of the stack, expecting nothing more taxing than to find Matt LeBlanc in a list of the 50 most beautiful people in history.  Instead, I found that you have been suspending young girls from school for practicing witchcraft.

  Is this the sort of brand-loyalty you think I demand?  Some people might call this sort of thing crazy.  Some people might take you to court over it.  But I’m not some people.  I’m Gawd Almighty and I recall making Myself quite clear on the issue of suspending children from school for putting hexes on their teachers.  let’s see; I believe I’ve got the memo right here… ah, yes.  Let Me quote it for you:

Let no one be found among you who makes his son or daughter pass through the fire, who practices divination or sorcery, interprets omens, engages in witchcraft, or casts spells, or who is a medium or spiritist or who consults the dead.

  In short:

Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.

  So My question to you is, why haven’t you made a bonfire out of this little girl?  There is nothing I hate more than a wishy-washy brand-loyalist.

  Well, actually that’s not true.  I hate a brand-loyalist who doesn’t tithe ’til it hurts much more than that.  Oh, and I hate those so-called “fortunes” you get at Chinese restaurants.  Those piss Me off pretty badly.  And bellboys who stand around with their hand out after they carry My bags to My room.  They make My teeth itch.  But wishy-washy brand-loyalists who don’t follow My orders like the Word of Gawd are assuredly in the top 15 or 20 things I hate.

  So tomorrow when I open My complimentary copy of USA Today I expect to see a headline in 2700-point USA Today type to the effect that you are throwing a bar-b-que for Gawd.  I want the smell of scorched pigtails on the wind.  Not because I have anything against this little girl; heck – I Am Love, after all.  I want to hear the crackling of sugar & spice because, a) frankly, I don’t deal well with competition, 2) when I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it, and c) I don’t have time to make up new rules for you; I’m on vacation.

Wish You Were Here,

~Gawd