Tuesday, August 09, 2005

Regarding God

Interviewer: So tell me about this god.

Theist: Well, He's all knowing.

I: It's a fellow?

T: Sorry?

I: God. God's a fellow? A guy?

T: Well, yes. I think so.

I: Is he married?

T: No, I don't believe He is.

I: Does he have a girlfriend?

T: Um... no, not that anyone's aware of at least.

I: He's not gay, is he?

T: I should say not.

I: So, you're not really sure, then?

T: The Lord God is not gay!

I: OK, OK, settle down. So, he lives alone. Very interesting. What do his neighbors think of him?

T: Excuse me?

I: His neighbors, do they like him? Have him over for drinks on occasion?

T: No.

I: He's a recluse, then?

T: I... I'm not sure you'd call Him a recluse. He's God.

I: He sounds reclusive. Mostly people hang out with other people unless they're messed up in some way, you know, like the Unabomber. Maybe something happened to this god fellow when he was a kid, parents didn't love him, or he got beat up by the neighbor kids. Or maybe he was savaged by a french poodle at the park or something. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Sometimes things happen. It's the nature of life that whatever happens to us we have to get over it and move on. You can't let things from the past hold you back. Maybe this god guy should join a book club or something.

T: God does not need to join a book club!

I: He already has a hobby?

T: He doesn't have a hobby! He's God!

I: OK, what does he do?

T: Do?

I: Yeah, where does he work?

T: He doesn't work anywhere. He's god.

I: Unemployed. No hobbies. Lives alone. Neighbors don't like him.

T: He doesn't have any neighbors.

I: Oh, so he has a large estate and he's really wealthy, yeah?

T: He has the biggest estate and no one is more wealthy.

I: Doorman? Security guards? The whole works?

T: Well, there's Saint Peter.

I: Saint who?

T: Peter. He guards the Pearly Gates.

I: Pearly? As in made from pearls?

T: I think so, yes.

I: Gates made of pearls sounds awfully gay. Are you sure we're not talking about Liberace? This sounds like a pretty fruity estate he's got.

T: Look. He's god, OK? He can have whatever kind of estate He wants.

I: Hey, whatever. Settle down. Maybe he's not gay. Maybe he's just another one of those wealthy freaks, like Michael Jackson. Wait, Jackson is gay, isn't he? I haven't been keeping up with the tabloids. Nevermind. It doesn't matter. So, he lives alone on this massive estate?

T: It's not an estate. It's Heaven.

I: OK. And who lives with him there?

T: We all will... at least, those of us who recognize the Lord as our savior.

I: Uh huh. Sounds Kinda' Messed Up to me. What about pets? Does he have a pet? A hamster? A doberman? Half a bee named Eric?

T: He has no pets. Unless, maybe you could consider us his pets.

I: Look this show isn't long enough to psychanalyze you, OK? Save your bizarre sexual fantasies for another time and try to stick to the subject. Is he tall?

T: What?

I: Does he have a big nose?

T: Excuse me?

I: A mole? A hairlip? Talk with a lisp? Lazy eye? Acne scars? How do you recognize him if you don't know what he looks like?

T: He doesn't look like anything. He's god!

I: OK, so you don't know what he looks like. But you know he's single, reclusive, unemployed, and loaded. Maybe it's Howard Hughes?

T: It's not Howard Hughes. Howard Hughes is dead.

I: So is Liberace. How old is he?

T: Who?

I: God.

T: He doesn't have an age. He's timeless.

I: That's what they said about Led Zepplin, but now there's plenty of college kids that couldn't tell Led Zepplin's Moby Dick from Melville's.

T: I... umm...

I: So where is it?

T: Where is what?

I: Heaven. Is it near Jamaica? Bermuda? I hear there are some really nice places near the Azores.

T: I... uh... heaven is umm... I'm not really sure where it is. I just know that I'm going to go there when I die.

I: When you die?

T: Yes. That's right.

I: That's freaky. You have to die in order to get in?

T: Yes.

I: Let me make sure I have this straight: At an undisclosed location, a mysterious, unemployed recluse of questionable sexual persuasion is waiting for you to die so that you can come live with him. Is that right?

T: Yes, that's right.

I: That's just about the craziest thing I've ever heard in my life.

T: The faithful will live in Heaven with God for eternity.

I: Eternity?

T: Yes, eternity.

I: Would you care to explain that?

T: What?

I: Eternity. What is eternity?

T: It's forever.

I: It can't be forever. Nothing's forever. Look, if it's a nice place there's gonna' be costs involved. Even the cheapest places have overhead. There's gonna' have to be someone to polish the pearls on that gate you were talking about, someone to take out the trash. All of this stuff costs money. And if there's a number of people staying there, those costs are going to multiply. My guess is that god will want you to pull your own weight or get out. That's how I'd do it, at least. Who wants a bunch of free-loaders hanging out all over your pad taking up space? No one, that's who. So I figure, as soon as this god character gets tired of you, boom, you're gone. Then what are you gonna' do? You're dead.

T: I... uh... it's forever.

I: Look, snap out of it. Forever is non-sense, OK? It's children's story book stuff. You think you procrastinate now?

Even with life as short as it is, people are always putting things off until later, right? Well, what's gonna' happen when there's always later? Why would you do anything ever? You could always do it later, right? I don't think you've thought this through.

T: I... uh... the Bible...

I: The bible? What's that?

T: The Bible is God's word.

I: It's a book?

T: Yes, the Good Book.

I: He wrote it?

T: Yes. Well... it was written for Him.

I: What do you mean it was written for him?

T: Matthew, Paul, Luke, and many others were divinely inspired and wrote the things that God inspired them to write and that is the Bible.

I: Where did they write it?

T: Where?

I: Yeah, where? Was it Albuquerque?

T: Umm... no, it was... I, uh... Jerusalem, maybe.

I: You have no idea.

T: Well, no, not really.

I: OK, when was it written?

T: A long time ago.

I: Can you be more specific? Was it before the civil war? Was it that long ago?

T: Oh, much longer than that.

I: Uh huh. What language was it written in?

T: Oh, umm... Hebrew, I think. Or was it Aramaic? Uh... Latin?

I: Okey dokey, let's see if I have this straight: you don't know when it was written, who wrote it, or in what language it was originally written, but you're devoting your life to its contents, is that right?

T: Yeah, pretty much.

I: That's awsome. And that's all the time we have for today's show. Tune in next week when we'll discuss the Stockholm Syndrome. Should be a hoot. Ta ta for now.


Blogger factory_peasant said...

hilarious stuff. nice work!

6:06 PM  
Blogger fugginWad said...

Thank you. You're very kind.

1:19 PM  

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