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JWR 2.7 - A Funny Deity


Wow, the first day of Spring and Iíve got a cold.  I was due.  I watched everyone suffer through the winter with colds and the flu and canker sores and genital warts.  And all I did was laugh like a retard--or the mentally challenged, as it were.  Now itís your turn.  It seems God is not without a sense of humor.  However, I must say that my favorite season is the spring--followed by fall.  Iím half-assed.


I was just watching my roommate dislodge a frozen hot dog from a grouping with a sharp knife whilst talking on the phone.  I was waiting for either the phone to drop or the knife to slip.  Neither happened.  It seems God is not without a sense of humor.


Now, I received quite a bit of correspondence from a number of you (not the correct number, mind you) regarding my previous Rambling.  ITíS NOT ABOUT YOU.  And Iíve read the suggestions: be yourself and more sex.  More sex...fucking perverts.


Wow, the fifth day of Spring and itís cold as hell outside.  It seems God is not without a sense of humor.


What are we supposed to believe?  Are we to believe what they say are facts are, indeed, facts?  I caught little pieces of this pseudo-documentary on FOX the other night (nothing on FOX can be called a documentary with a straight face.  Címon, these are the people who brought you When Animals Attack, Who Wants to Marry a Multi-Millionaire and Temptation Island.).   It was about how the moon landing was all a hoax.  My dad mentioned something to me about it a week ago: ďHave you heard about these people that say the moon landing never really happened?Ē  I though it was a joke.  ďAre these the same people who say the the holocaust never happened, too?Ē I asked.  Itís hard to laugh at anything with the word ďholocaustĒ in it, but he did manage.  It sounds so preposterous.  The moon landing was a hoax.  It never happened.  It was a Hollywood farce.


Then you get to thinking, it is possible.  I mean, we all have been told that the moon landing happened.  Millions watched it ďLiveĒ on the television.  But isnít it possible that all that was created and played out on Earth?  How hard is it to put the word LIVE on television over the upper left corner of whatever show is on?  The point is, maybe the moon landing didnít happen.


I believe it did.  I mean, we fly.  Most of us have been in airplanes so we know that flying is possible.  Fact: people have made air crafts that can fly through the air.  We first flew in 1903.  The Wright brothers.  On a single thimble full of corn starch.  That was less than a hundred years ago.   We have planes that go faster than the speed of sound.  We have satellites in orbit around the Earth.  Lots of them.  We put the first piece of shit into space in the fifties.  Then, in the sixties, we put the first people on the moon.  (Donít ask me exact dates.  Look it up.)  So, thereís a sixty year gap from the time we first flew to the time we put honkeys on the moon.   Thatís enough time.  How is that so tough?  Really.  And whatís the point behind a conspiracy?  If we actually canít get into space, why the hoax?  So we donít feel bad about it?  So we actually face the reality that there is no escape from this rock and we may actually have to take care of it for our own sakes?


People can say that it did or did not happen.  Isnít there proof?  Donít we see astronauts in space on CNN all the time?  Itís so boring that it would have to be real.  (Then again, I always thought that the whole weightless thing looked rather cheesy.)  Just because someone tells you that it happened and has a picture of it, it does not make it a reality.  Wouldnít you be less inclined to believe them if the picture were just a charcoal drawing?  Well, we have these things called computers that powerful people have had for much longer than us that will allow the wholly believable doctoring of a picture or film.  Not to mention all the drugs they put in the water.


Still, why?


Thereís no real proof that God exists.


Thereís no real proof that God does not exist.


Here you find the predicament.  Either you believe or you do not.  (Or maybe, if youíre like me, you donít but kinda do but donít want to take the responsibility of believing and ultimately letting down a perfect being.)  You can say that there is a God, but you canít prove it, so by not proving it, you have just proved that there is no God, but you canít prove it, so by not proving it you have just proved that there is a God, but...


Iím looking for a definite answer.  Definite answers boil down to faith.  But faith isnít definite, in my eyes.  Proof be damned.  If youíre lucky.


Literature first told us that God was dead.  God has yet to respond.  Literature does not make apologies.  It says and moves on.  It is a new world with every work.  New rules for every chapter.  The angel in ďA Very Old Man with Enormous WingsĒ was captured, caged, made into an attraction, became obsolete and flew away to the captorsí relief.  The angel was a burden.  Then again, the angel was not a traditional angel, and not even a lovable slob angel like John Travolta in Michael.  Still, there was no question it was an angel and the people still treated it like a side show freak.  Thereís a commentary on modern religious tendencies in there.


So, what happens if the rapture does not take place?  (You know, the rapture that has been made so popular by those books and movies Left Behind and the new one.  You canít walk into a Samís Club without running into five thousand copied of Left Behind starring Kirk Cameron and the new one Tribulation.)  Iíve been told that the rapture, near as they can predict, is supposed to take place sometime in 2002.  But what if it does not happen?   Personally Iíd be disappointed.  I was awfully upset that the lights didnít go out for Y2K.  I wanted to go up on a hill with some Dr. Pepper, SweetTarts and cigars and watch the world burn.  Instead, I woke up in the hotel room in Delafield, IL rather fuzzy about the previous night, started my car, went to breakfast with some friends, had a tough time eating, and was half way home when it hit me: look at all the cars on the road...running.  And mine started right up without even the slightest trouble.  All the fear and panic and saving up of provisions for the lawlessness and probable need for martial law being declared to maintain or restore order in the streets, and what do we get?  Even my piece of shit Funai VCR still works.  Man, you still go to peoplesí houses and if youíre lucky enough to get into their basements, chances are good that they will have bottles and bottles of water and cans and cans of food (and only an electric opener, probably) and bags and bags of rations and bowls and bowls of marijuana.  And even funnier is people have no idea what to do with all that shit.  Donít nobody want to eat fucking canned string beans when they can go get some chicken McNuggets.  Whoís gonna smoke weed when you can get the crack?  And whoís gonna drink the water when you can have the champagne of beers?


To save memory we used only two digits for the year instead of four: 99 instead of 1999.  So, when the new year hits, 00 will cause the computers to think itís 1900 or everything will turn off because 00 is the code for a shutdown.  I had a great idea to solve the problem with a minimal of cost

and trouble.  I thought that we should skip 2000 all together.  Just jump right to 2001.  Thereís no law that says we have to hit every year on a time line.  But after all the money and all the computer geeks working overtime to rewrite the code and all the bottled water, it was all for nothing.


The funniest part, and I hope you agree, is that all that water has expiration dates on it.


But if the rapture does happen, I hope all of you hear the celestial trumpets and disappear.  Ever see those bumper stickers: IN CASE OF RAPTURE, THIS VEHICLE WILL BE WITHOUT DRIVER.  It seems God is not without a sense of humor.  Apparently, according to my brother, Iíll be left behind.  (Hey, just like in that book.)  The shit part is, you canít kill yourself.  Thatís a mortal sin.  You gotta stick it out and fight for Jesus if you want to get to heaven.  You either fight for the seven years it takes J.C. to come back or you die fighting for him, probably cruelly and gorily.  You gotta listen to the anti-Christ say over and over, ďAnd where is Jesus?  Heís at home, washing His tights!Ē  I would have to imagine the antichrist would have a sense of humor.


If I was taken in the rapture, Iíd leave behind my shoes, socks, pants, belt, underwear, t-shirt, undershirt, necklace with undisclosed pendant, four earrings, watch, six screws, two brackets, four fillings and a little tattoo ink.  And a whole lot of Godless hotties, you know what Iím saying?  Boo-yah!


So, letís stop there for now so I can avoid screwing myself in a very uncomfortable place, like the back seat of a Saturn.




Shine, Jesus, Shine


Copyright © 2001 John Lemut