So We Meet Again, Mr. God

So I had another dream that I was hanging out with God. He was a lot cooler this time. Probably because I was still alive and he wasn't damning me to hell.

It was a fairly typical dream: I couldn't remember the combination to my 7th grade locker. This big dog kept chasing me around while he barked "Rollover! 401k! Retirement!" at me. I managed to lose him somewhere in the Cartoon Forest by ducking into a sketchy-looking diner. But for some reason I thought it was my grandmother's kitchen. So I decided to have breakfast for dinner — which is still the best thing ever.

The waitress was the lady from the Swiffer commercials but her voice sounded like that annoying Geicho gecko. No sooner had she delivered my delicious-looking omelet than the god of Abraham, Mr. Divine himself, strolled into the place, walked up to my booth and asked if the seat opposite me was taken.

He didn't look the way I'm used to seeing God. There was no white beard, no flowing robes and no sandals. And He wasn't pointing at me with a look of smite. He looked more like Christopher Lloyd.

Hello, Joseph.

Oh my God.

Yeah, that never gets old. Are you surprised to see Me?

Seriously, who capitalizes the word 'me'?

That's not My doing. That's just how I'm written. Everyone I reveal Myself to thinks they need to exaggerate Me to get My point across. Remember in the Bible where it says I spoke to the tribes of Israel and the whole earth shook while everyone covered their ears and writhed in pain? Yeah. Not so much.

Umm, sure. Well, I don't totally recall that exact scene... per se. I mean... I haven't gotten to that part yet.

Are you kidding Me? I write one book and you can't even read that. And you expect Me to help you get published?

To be fair, you didn't really WRITE the Bible. You dictated it to like 1,000 ghost writers. Either way the capitalization thing seems a little pompous. And first off, it's a really long book.

Well... I had a lot to say. So give me another excuse.

That's mostly it. It is really thick. Plus a lot of it is really scary. Turning people into pillars of salt. Creating different languages to cause mass confusion just because somebody built a tower that was too high for Your building codes. You can be a real bastard sometimes.

Look: I've made bushes spontaneously erupt into flames. I got a drunk to build a boat in 40 days and fill it with hundreds of filthy animals. I made three intelligent men wander aimlessly through the desert to give expensive treasures to a baby in a barn. But that was after a lot of practice. Things weren't so easy the first few times around.

It's kinda like the iPhone: the first generation is never perfect. You try your best the first time out, but at some point you have to put it out there and see what happens. All that vengeance and wrath in the Old Testament? I was trying to figure things out and some of it came out a bit clumsily. But you have to pretend that it was all on purpose or the inmates start trying to run the asylum.

Heck — I thought it was as easy as putting out a simple list on what people should and shouldn't do. But you people like things really complex and mystical. Things eventually got easier.

I'm just sayin: you have a knack for only showing up whenever people are having a good time drinking, fornicating and worshipping golden cows. It kinda harshes the mellow.

Oh, give Me a break. With the infinite patience I've — wait, are you messing with me?

Yeah. I'm just busting Your balls, Guy.

Awkward silence. Note to self: never refer to God's balls while in His divine presence. I mean Balls.



And so we chatted for awhile. I was a little annoyed that he didn't order anything because it put me in the awkward position of "Do I eat my food? How long am I supposed to wait?" I don't know the table etiquette when dining with one's Creator. Can it be considered spiritual fasting? Either way, a cold omelet is a waste of my time.

I tried to hold it back, but there was something I had to ask Him.

I've tried to hold this back, but there's something I have to ask You.

Not at all surprising. Happens every time. Go right ahead.

Well... have I ever made you laugh?

That's your question? That's it? With the ruler of existence standing before you, the keeper of all mysteries of life just inches from your face, all you can think about is whether or not you've made Him laugh?

Yeah. That about sums it up.

Alright. Fine. To be honest, you have made me laugh. Once.

Once? Just once?

You gotta remember; I've been around for awhile. There isn't much that can surprise Me — no good surprises at least. It takes a special something to catch Me off guard and give Me a chuckle.

It was the other day at work when I fell up the stairs, wasn't it?

What can I say? People falling is funny. People falling UP is just hilarious.


I'll tell ya: I DVR'ed that and have been showing it to everyone. The part where the woman walks up to you and you reach out your hand because you think she's going to help you up, but she just walks right by? Gets Me every time!

Well I'm glad that both heaven and earth can find joy in my pain.

Actually, Jesus was the one person who didn't find it funny.

Good. He sets a fine example for everyone else.

No, He just doesn't like you.

What!? Jesus doesn't like me?

Not really. Says you're too over the top. Plus, He likes a lot of attention.

Mr. Walks-On-Water likes the spotlight? No!

I know, right? So He gets jealous whenever people are interested in something else. Only child syndrome. Same as you.

But I'm not an only child. I have a sister.

And I've had 20 billion other children besides Jesus but that doesn't stop Him from acting like a brat.

Point taken.

Be that as it may. You may have guessed that My coming here was not by chance. You've been saying things about Me recently that are quite troubling.


A few days back, I was having one of my usual philosophical debates about religion with a friend. It's rare that my observations are appreciated.

... all I am saying is that Mary didn't have a choice in the matter. Nobody asked her if she wanted to birth the son of God. The angel just says, "This is the way it's gonna be... you're having this kid." She was forced into it. It's like sexual harassment of Biblical proportions.

That's just wrong. You're not even going to hell. Satan himself would feel awkward around you. There is no place for where you belong.

If that happens, then I will have beat the system. Good for me.

I couldn't be 100% sure, but I had a hunch it was the sexual harassment part that had him pissed off.


How many times do we have to have this talk, Joseph?

I was just trying to make the point of perspective. You can spin anything to mean whatever you want and, as You may have noticed, it tends to happen quite a bit with Your work.

I am quite aware. Though I'm not sure your friend picked up on the satirical nature of your argument.

Why's that? Because she punched me in the kidney? Nah. That could have been for any number of reasons.

That's true. But the very next day you yelled at your atheist friends, condemning them for being...

"... incredibly vain. To think that you possess some superhuman insight into the mysteries and explanations of human spirituality is beyond egotistical, and to argue as such is a fruitless and completely ignorant exercise."

Yeah, I sound really smart, don't I?

No! You totally contradict yourself and completely insult Me and everyone around you in the process.

I know. Pretty simple, right? You'd think people would figure out by now that's all that I do.

I've got nothing for that. I can see now that this entire discussion has been a fruitless and completely ignorant exercise.

Ah, don't beat Yourself up over it. You're still learning.

By now, my omelet looked like a rubber dog toy. Yeck. Since it was sort of His fault anyway, I figured He wouldn't mind helping me out.

Hey. Uh... Before you go. This omelet is stone cold. You wanna zap it for me?

Zap it?

Yeah. You know. Give it the old heat beam or whatever.

You really don't know anything, do you?

Not really. It's pretty sweet.

In an instant, I found myself lying in my own bed, covered in sweat and breathing heavily. Without quite knowing why, I stumbled out of bed and shuffled to the window in a daze. As my eyes came into focus, I beheld a scene most awesome: a line of 7 trees, each at least 40 feet high, were ablaze with a thunderous fire that ran continuously through them all.

Frozen in place, I stared for endless moments as the brightest yellows, oranges, and reds danced hypnotically before me. And yet the trees remained completely unharmed. Each branch, twig and leaf swayed lazily as though completely ignorant of the violence raging around them. For all its splendor, the fire was powerless. It was as though some invisible force kept the trees from harm.

Umm... that's probably just a coincidence. I'm going back to sleep and finishing that omelet.

1 comment:

  1. Alright, so I read it again. And I don't find it offensive in any way, maybe it's because I have a frickin' sense of humor. I mean c'mon how many people can say that you got God to say Holy Fuck? C'mon, buddy, that has good times written all over it, the feeling, not the television show starring that amazing actor James "Jimmy" Walker.

    Now next time we meet, remind me not to stand too close, for I fear there's a lightening bolt with your name written all over it on it's way.