Friday, November 12, 2004


Why Have I Forsaken You?

Yahweh was inconsolable. He sat out on the compost heap and wailed, and tore his clothes, and threw ashes in his hair. Fat tears coursed copiously down his grimy cheeks.

"My Son, My Son," he cried, "why have I forsaken You?"

"Dad," Jesus said, "You didn't forsake Me; somebody just kidnapped Me. I mean--"

"Why did I refuse to turn My countenance upon You?" Yahweh keened.

"Dad," Jesus said, "I can see Your countenance just fine."

"First I had You crucified, now I've let You get kidnapped! I'm a terrible, terrible Father!"

"Dad," Jesus said, looking around to see if the neighbors were watching, "would you cut this out? Somebody's gonna see you."

"My Kingdom, half My Kingdom, to the deity who gets me back My Son!"

"Dad," Jesus said, "please, I'm right here! Don't start giving away Your Kingdom to impostors returning the impostor that got kidnapped!"

"A third of My Kingdom to the one who lets me look once more on the creamy, blemish-free face of My only begotten Son!"

Jesus rolled His eyes, threw up His soft hands. Fuck the stubborn old Fart!

He went inside. The Holy Ghost was Hoovering the sofa. He flicked off the machine, tipped His head down at Jesus. "Did He budge?"

"No," Jesus said.

"Told ya," the Holy Ghost said.

"Shit," Jesus said, and went to His room.

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