Monthly Archives: October 2010

Dear Universe…


Universe Gamma-33/Rho-Theta-7

Dear Everyone Everywhere,

  I know I promised I’d be there for your birthday this year, but something extremely important came up… as far as you know.

  Okay, look, the truth is, even though I made you a cake last year, you’re just getting too old for birthday parties.  I can’t show up in a clown suit on your birthday any more.  It’s just not dignified.  But don’t get all weepy about it, you’re a big universe now.  Anyway, it’s n0t like I forgot, exactly.  I grabbed this card on the way through Charles de Gaulle Airport.  It was the only one in a language I approve of.

  Right.  They’re calling My flight, so buck up, don’t cry and I hope you had a nice birthday.

Wish You Were Here,



Dear Chilean Miners…

Somewhere in Chili Con Carne or Sopapilla or Huevos Rancheros

Dear Third-World Collectors of My Metallic Vacation Fund,

  When your horrible ordeal began, I had no idea that this rescue craze would be so popular.  If I’d known, I would have sent more than a handful of brand-loyalists to take credit on My behalf.  Actually, I thought you guys were goners.  When Republican Jesus called to tell Me how very big the rescue ratings were, I thought; Okay, it’s popular, but is it popular like crack cocaine or like gay bashing?  Is it popular like incessantly running your tongue over a broken tooth or like bigotry?  Like a train wreck or like date rape?  Certainly those are popular things, but do they get the kind of press I want to be associated with?  I have enough trouble distancing Myself from Glenn Beck.  The last thing I need is headlines like “Gawd Snuffs 33 Miners“.

  That’s one of the main reasons I stay out of the rescue business.  They’re just potential PR disasters.  Also, I’m on vacation.  Besides, I can usually count on My brand-loyalists giving Me credit when the rescue comes off and keeping their traps shut when it doesn’t.  They’re always giving Me great, (unpaid), PR.  If you listen to the brand-loyalists, I’m like some kind of super hero who swoops in and saves the day at the last minute.  The best thing about it, (other than the fact that I don’t have to interrupt My vacation and come to the middle of nowhere to fix someone else’s problems), is that hardly anyone ever wonders, “Hey, if omniscient, omnipotent, omnibenevolent Gawd is rescuing miners and curing people’s cancer and finding their car keys; who’s causing all the problems in the first place?”  Of course, when some dickhole does ask uncomfortable questions, My, (again, unpaid), PR machine swings into gear and blames My professional scapegoat, Satan, or free will or something like that.  I can get the credit without doing anything, so why bother?

  So imagine My surprise when I found out I was trapped in that mine with you.  Like I say, I’m happy to take the credit for all the hard work the rescuers did, but unless that mine has room service, a spa and a top-notch concierge, I’m certain I wasn’t there.  In fact, I’d appreciate it if you’d stop telling people that.  What self-respecting deity would be caught dead down a dark, dangerous, boring hole in the ground?  Maybe Vulcan, but not This Guy.

  Anyway, glad you fellas made it out alright, thanks for the shout out and don’t forget to put a little something extra in the collection plate this week and a big something extra once your book deal comes through.

Wish You Were Here,


Dear Pluto…

1 Death and Taxes Way, The Underworld

Hey, You daughter-snatching son-of-a-gun,

  How are You?  I was just thinking of You last night and I decided to drop a line.  I was in New York City for Comic Con and I found Myself being chauffeured along Central Park West, looking at the trees changing color and it reminded Me that it’s time for Your wife to visit… You incestuous, kidnapping fucker.  Ha!  We really need to hang out again sometime.  I forgot what a blast You are.

  Anyway, I was near Central Park because I was invited to speak at the 10th Anniversary Isaac Asimov Debate:  Is Earth Unique?  Normally, I don’t even reply to these sorts of invitations, but a) I convinced the Hayden Planetarium to pay My airfare and b) the question’s a no-brainer, right?

  So I got there and it turned out that they wanted Me to share a stage with some sciencey types.  Well, You can imagine the Wrath of Me I unleashed!  There’s at least one PR intern at the American Museum of Natural History who will think twice before  she utters the words “You’ll go on after Professor Adams…” again.  After I maturely threw My drink in her face, made her cry and calmly stormed out, It occurred to Me that the only responsible thing to do would be to stand in the back of the audience and heckle.

  This is where it gets a little spooky, as far as You’re concerned.  Now remember, I had just been thinking of You moments before.  Guess who the first person to walk on stage was?  Dr. Neil DeGrasse Tyson.  Yeah, I know, right?  Your arch enemy.  It really brings home that “more things in Heaven and Earth” stuff, doesn’t it?  I was so flabbergasted that I forgot to heckle out loud and just harumphed a few times and once pretended to cough while saying “Bullshit”.  As You well know, the answer to the question is a simple “Yes”, since I created everything* 6,000 years ago, solely for the use of the human race**.  But the science types hemmed and hawed and blathered on about Goldilocks and liquid methane and plate tectonics and the Moon until I was bored stiff.  The long and short of the thing was that one of them, Brownlee, agreed with Me in an overly sciencey way and the other four will be roasting in Hell™ for all eternity.

  The only other things worth mentioning were that all the scientists were men, so even if they never even acknowledged Me, at least they had that going for them.  The other was that I punked all those science geeks in the end.  Some kid in the audience was asking a question and was about to use the term “intelligent life” when I wriggled My nose and made him say “intelligent design”.  Ha!  It caused a low moan to race through the audience.  In the end I’m calling it a win for Me, since they all went home with “intelligent design” planted in their heads.

  Let’s plan to get together in the Spring when the old ball and chain leaves.

Wish You Were Here,


*  For a given set of “everything”.

**  As far as they know.

Dear Jesus & Jesus…

For Hand Delivery – Signature Required


  From time to time, the waitress at the hotel pool takes a little longer than I’d like to refill My drink.  It’s during these long, dark teatimes of the soul, (to coin a phrase), that My mind sometimes wanders to the family business.  Now, before You start rolling Your eyes and muttering, “Oh, Mithras”, You just remember that I’m still, technically, the CEO.  Before You two start getting too big for Your loincloths, let Me remind You that I’m still Your father and You’re not too old for an old-fashioned smiting.

  Right.  Where was I?  Oh, yes.  It was during one of these interminable waits for a refill that I came up with some pretty good ideas for Our brand.  So listen up.

  It seems to Me that there are far too many, (>0), people not wearing Our brand logos.  As long as there are other brands with snappy logos out there, like Hindus with the elephants and arms, or Thorians with the hammer, or Macsters with their apples, then a certain percentage of the market is loyal to a brand that We don’t own a stake in.  To My mind, that’s just the same as stealing money out of My pocket.  And that… is the unforgivable sin.

  So, first of all, I want You two to come up with some new logos.  That cross and fish thing is beginning to make Me tired.  They were fine for a bunch of ignorant savages, 2,000 years ago, but this is the Me-damned 21st century!  Sure, when you couldn’t turn around without bumping into some poor slob being crucified, the cross was a great image to hitch Our wagon to.  Same thing with the fish.  When everyone who mattered lived around the Mediterranean rim, You could bet Your ass fish was on everyone’s minds.  But times have changed and, frankly, We’ve worn those images out.  We need something ubiquitous to the modern world, (by the way, thanks for that “word a day” calendar You got Me for Rosh Hashana).  I toyed with the idea of getting input from Pope Ratzi’s people, but I’m not sure that a tiny naked child would be universal enough.  Look around You.  What do You see?  Personally, I see minimum wage hotel employees ready to cater to My every whim.  Imagine You’re some unimportant nobody, though.  Some schmuck who has to catch the bus or carpool to work in the morning.  What’s this pathetic waste of skin going to see all day long at the office?  No, not internet porn… but close.  Computers!  Think about it.  We change our logo to a spiffy silhouette of the common computer, and before long We’re what people think of every time they sit down to generate the daily weenus report, every time they have a sneaky, shameful wank when the wife’s out shopping, every time they pay the heating bill.  I see no way this could go wrong for us.

  So, once You’ve rebranded, I want You to start with booze.  In My experience, a drink or three is something everyone has every day.  Slap the new logo on that before anything else.

  Second, and just as importantly, We’ve got to make sure that the current brand-loyalists push the new logo.  It’s no good switching if We don’t bring in new consumers.  Part and parcel of that is respect for the brand.  Brand-loyalists must, must, must insist on universal respect.  That’s why I’ve attached the hamster comic.  On the one hand, everyone likes cute animals, and on the other, it’s an excellent instruction manual for them.  I understand the competition, (Allah, LLC), has had excellent results with this same policy.  So make sure You disseminate this video instruction to all branches.

  Okay, they’re boarding first class now, so I’ve got to go.  Keep up the good work, or whatever, and I’ll see You at the centennial board meeting.

Wish You Were Here,