Monthly Archives: November 2009

Dear Scientologists…

Hollywood, USA

Dear OT’s I Through XXVII (inclusive),

  You guys have had it rough lately.  People think your religion, and your Chosen One, are just a big joke.  Boy, that smarts, doesn’t it?  So, I thought I would drop you a note to tell you to keep plugging away.

  When My boys and I started Our business, people thought Our brand-loyalists were nuts, too.  The brand-loyalists of Zeus, Baal, Odin and even Tree Spirit #4 used to laugh unmercifully at them.  But now, the rulers of the most powerful nation in history can proudly stand before the world and say, “How you like me now, bitches!”  Even My toughest competitor, Allah, (who is a hack), only got as big as He is by selling a knock-off of My product.

  So, as you can see, no matter how crazy people think you are today, give it a thousand years or so and your brand will be just as sacred and untouchable as Mohammadism or Mormonism or even Protestantism, (“Now with 50% More Jesus!”).  Eventually you’ll have spin-off products and maybe Tom Cruise will bring His kids into the business, as I did.  There will be Holy Relics like bits of the One True Couch on which The Chosen One proved His heterosexuality to the Great & Powerful Oprah.  The possibilities are endless, really.

  Which brings Me to the main reason I’m writing.  While fame and power and fortune, (even more than you wield now), are almost certainly Scientology’s, eventually; the sad truth is none of you will be around to cash in on it.  No, like the early martyrs, your lot is to die, (figuratively), a gruesome death, (also figurative), in the figurative arena with the (mostly figurative) lions.  The best you can hope for in your lifetimes is a small tax-exemption, and you may not have that for long.  Therefore, purely out of the love of My heart, (For is it not written, “Gawd is Love,”?), I’d like to offer you a proposal that I think you’ll like.

  I want to put in a bid to make Scientology a wholly-owned subsidiary of Gawd, Inc.  From your perspective, it’s a win-win, home-run, slam-dunk of a deal.  From day one, you’ll have the protection of My unexamined Respect.  No one will dare make fun of you anymore for fear of offending My (admittedly touchy) brand-loyalists.  Folks guffaw at tales of Xenu torturing galactic citizens in space-faring DC-10’s?  Not once you explain that Xenu is now VP, Interstellar Acquisitions, at Hell, Ltd.  “Some people” say that Tom Cruise is a short, closeted fruitcake in every sense of the word?  They’ll shut their pie holes when you show them a copy of the Gawd, Inc. press release naming Him the latest in a long line of well-respected prophets.  Mess with one of My prophets and you’re likely to get mauled by bears.  That’s the sort of thing people sit up and take notice of.  And money?  Phrew!  Just ask Pope Ratzi what his cash-flow situation is like.

  On My end, all I ask is that you start turning over the tithes you already collect to My vacation fund.  You know, just to cover expenses and whatnot.  For what you’re now spending on lawyers and private eyes and street thugs, you can get the much more efficacious mantle of Gawd, Inc.

  I’ll have My lawyers send your lawyers a copy of the standard contract.  I can’t wait to have you in the family, so to speak.

Wish You Were Here,



Dear Christian Anti-Defamation Commission…

Christian Anti-Defamation CommissionUnderneath the Big Rock, PO Box 1115 Vista, CA  92085

Dear Poor, Poor, Shat-Upon Brand-Loyalists,

  It has come to My Divine Attention that you are being crushed like defenseless, thin-skinned tomatoes.  Boy, if I weren’t on vacation I’d give those mustachioed, assless-chap-wearing fags and their millions and millions of enablers such a smiting!  Well, actually, I couldn’t really afford to do that.  All of My angels, seraphim, cherubim, etc. are LGBT, and they have got one Hell of a union.  You wouldn’t believe the stink they raised when somebody leaked a memo on Gawd, Inc. policy about that.

  So let’s keep it on the QT that I’m backing your rally for the right to say anything you want about the gaybos.  On Monday, November 16, when you’re standing outside the Department of Justice, (Good one.), urging each other to do as Republican Jesus commands and revile sissy-boys, twinkies and bull-dykes, know that I will be there with you.  Not literally, of course.  As I say, I’m on vacation and the weather in Bali right now is not to be missed.  But, you know, figuratively.  Just be sure not to mention Me.  I can’t afford a slow-down or, Me forbid, a strike right now.  If Gawd, Inc. has to bus in demon scabs, it’s liable to get ugly.

  It’s odd how hard it is to find qualified angels, as opposed to demons, now that I think about it.  Dead brand-loyalists line up around the block when Hell is hiring; and not just to get off the receiving end.  There’s just something about torturing others that appeals to them.  Or maybe it’s the dental insurance, I don’t know.  I’m sure you’ll want to apply as soon as you kick the bucket.  Being members of the CADC will certainly look good on your resumé.  If you’ve also ever drowned little baby kittens or tied firecrackers to a dog’s tail, be sure to mention it.  Every little bit helps.

  Anyway, most of you won’t have to worry about getting your demon CV in order until the bus ride home, so let’s get back to the point.  The point here is not whether or not it’s alright to say that fags, ass-bandits, benders, queens, andro-dykes, aunties, back-ticklers, botty-burglars, buggerers, bumboys, catamites, chocolate chimney sweeps, colon commanders, donut punchers, dykes, exhaust-pipe engineers, fairies, freaks, fudge-packers, homos, inverts, knob jockies, left-handers, lezbos, lezzies, leztastics, longtime companions, mollies, nellies, on-the-other-bussers, pansies, queers, rear admirals, sodomites, twinks, uphill gardeners, vice anglaises and wind-jammers should die horrible, horrible deaths and then spend all of eternity in the vilest bit of Hell.  No, the point is to show the world how badly you are being oppressed.  If your right to castigate catamites is taken from you, what’s the point?  Am I right?  Really, I can think of few things worse than being told you can’t share with the world your disgust of those who, as far as anyone can prove, are not the same as you.  So you get out there and fight for your rights, and know that I’m with you 100%*.

Wish You Were Here,


*  The phrase “with you 100%” is not meant to convey agreement by Gawd, Gawd, Inc. or any of its subsidiaries, including Hell & Purgatory, LLC, with any position you may espouse, or to denote legal or ethical responsibility of aforesaid deities or corporations.  Wink, wink.

Dear Glenn Beck…

Beck is Insane

Secret Govt. Organ-Stealing Plant, Reagan Wing, Rm. 3A

Dear Glenn,

  I’m sorry to hear you’re under the weather.  I was going to send flowers, but a) they cost money I require for other purposes and 2) I was afraid you might be allergic to anything that isn’t white.

  This doesn’t come easily to Me, but… well, when I say that I’m sorry, I actually mean it this time.  I’m sorry because it’s My fault.  I didn’t mean to embolden your appendix to climb up your spinal column and try to throttle your brain.  In the past, with situations like burning Sodom & that other place, or drowning all the dinosaurs, I wasn’t the least bit sorry because I fully meant to wreak all that destruction.  You’d have agreed totally if you’d been there.  Sodom, (and I admit the name should have been a giveaway), turned out to be chock full of sodomites and the dinosaurs were agitating for Communist Health Care.  So, good riddance to bad rubbish, I say.

  However, in your case, it was simply a slip of the old omnipotence.  I was chatting up this girl in the bar of My hotel and she seemed really impressed when I told her that I’m omniscient and omnipotent.  In no time I was reading her mind, (“I wonder what’s on TV right now?”), and lighting the candles at the tables from across the room.  So, before I knew it, she was asking Me just how omnipotent I was.  “You mean,”, she said, “You could just snap Your fingers and make the world a better place?”

  You can probably see where this is going from here.  Without thinking about it, I said, “Sure, baby,”, snapped My fingers and Pow!  Your appendix went rogue.

  Really, when you think about it, I shouldn’t blame Myself.  It’s just as much that girl’s fault as mine.  More, actually.  I’m really more of an innocent bystander here.  Or, as I know you’d agree, it looks a lot like a conspiracy against Me.  I was just doing what I do.  Enjoying My vacation, having a drink or six in the hotel bar and picking up loose totty.  She took advantage of My nature in order to embarrass Me and get rid of you.

  If I were you, I’d get on the air immediately and tell the world about this socialist plot to kill you.  Presuming you survive their vicious attack.

Wish You Were Here,