At Your Jobs All Round the World
Well, it’s Passover and Good Friday again and I’m on vacation. The former Chosen People are sitting on their tuchuses, stuffed from gorging on cookies and pastry, Nibbling soda crackers in the backyard hammock. The brand-loyalists are “going to mass”, which seems to entail taking the day off work and coloring eggs for the glorification of My boys. The Easter Bunny is chuckling contentedly over His first-quarter candy-earnings.
You? You’re at work, cursing the greedy Jews and the lying brand-loyalists.
So, while I’m waiting for room service to bring My breakfast Filet Mignon avec Sauce Bernaise and Durian Fruit Salad, I thought I’d try to cheer you up.
Right. So – New Chosen People? It’s all part of My ineffable plan. Just ask the Jews. No pain, no gain. You’ve got to give a little to get a little. There’s no such thing as a free lunch. This sort of thing will build character. Besides, you’re going to need to work all you can in order to save money. Once the Republicans take over America for good in 2012 and the rest of the world in 2023 and outlaw atheism, you’ll be glad of that extra cash you’ve socked away. It’ll mean another week of thin gruel, hiding in an attic from the Protective Squads before their Holy Killer Snifferbots finally smell that copy of The God Delusion you forgot to burn when you ran. If you’ve saved enough money, you might be able to bribe them to blindfold you before they burn your family at the stake.
As for you Un-Chosen people, followers of that hack, Allah, Vishnu, Pele and all the rest; you’re just shit out of luck. The little extra money you’re making by working today isn’t really going to matter in the long run, as most of your little, third-world countries don’t have nukes. You Indians and Pakis and Gawdless Chinee won’t have much use for money in the post-apocalyptic wasteland you’ll be raising your mutant children in. However, if you immediately invest that money in gasoline and shotgun shells, you may live long enough to see your three-eyed, four-buttocked grandchildren.
Now, aren’t you glad you got passed over for this pseudo-holiday, today?
Wish You Were Here,