Smack in the Middle of the Old Country
Dear Former Chosen People,
Sometimes, breakups can be long and painful. That’s just part of the human condition. Well, as decreed by Me after that bitch, Eve, went behind My back. But the human condition, nonetheless.
Often, the worst part is trying to get your Clash records back and agreeing on who owns what. In order to facilitate and simplify the ownership question, I’ve asked a disinterested third party to check into that for Me. Professor Adam Zertal has just written to Me to confirm that the Jordan Valley is, in fact, mine. Which, let’s be honest, you and I both already knew. This is the very reason that I insisted on a Pre-Chosen Agreement all those years ago. Anything with My footprint on it belongs to Me, (see attachment a, constituting legal and binding evidence).
Conversely, as I am a fair and just Gawd – you’ll recall My fair and just smiting of the [fill in the blank]ites – anything with your bootprint on it belongs to you, (see attachment b).
Obviously, this doesn’t cover the aforementioned Clash records, as footprints generally mar their usefulness. And don’t think that your transparent attempts to ingratiate yourself with My new Chosen People will save you from returning what’s Mine. As you know, not only am I a fair and just Gawd and a jealous Gawd, I’m a Gawd who knows which set of dishes He brought to the relationship and a Gawd who never forgets.
So, chop-chop on that Jordan Valley thing. I want to start renting it out to vacationers or possibly selling to some Saudi Arabian condo developers I met in the hotel bar. But don’t think it’s all about the money. It’s the principle of the thing. Well… it is kind of about the money; but, to a certain extent, principle is involved, too. Sort of. Well… not principle, as such – more like “principle”, where “principle” is understood to mean “quick real-estate cash”.
Wish You Were Here,