Monday, November 08, 2004


Hard Choices

Yahweh comes in, starts to throw Mary her cigarettes, and notices that she’s almost emptied the bottle of gin, and her head is on the table, drool puddling around her slack jaw. Jesus is nowhere to be seen, and the Holy Ghost had been outside watering the lawn. He puts the cigarettes on the counter by the fridge.

Note on the fridge: “Gone to get my hair and nails done for our court appearance. Back soon. J.”

Yahweh, sighs, gets a beer out of the fridge, and carries his nachos into the den. He stretches out in his La-Z-Boy and digs up a nacho with a fat jalapeno on it. He takes a swig of beer and begins to think.

Another kid. Why not? Maybe a girl this time. He’d taken a beating from the female voters. A girl might help that. But then what about the Trinity? Bump Jesus out? Make it a Quartety? And, who to impregnate? That’s a problem. Does she have to be Jewish this time? Maybe a nice Japanese girl. Or an Eskimo. An African. Yeah, an African. That would help him win that continent. Or would it?

He flipped on the television. There was a show on about the election. “Yahweh lost big among female voters and the young, who feel that he’s dried up and out of touch. Meanwhile, exit polls continue to show that voters, especially parents, feel that Yahweh isn’t the best match with their moral values. Many voters expressed discomfort with the amount of smiting that Yahweh had been doing as of late, feeling that perhaps he was getting soft and less virile…” Click.

Maybe. Maybe it was time for a change of image. Another kid. A few smitings. Maybe lose a few pounds. Dye the hair and beard.

He ate another nacho and had another swig of beer. But another kid with who? Who?

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