Figmental

Figs, yum

God is what he eats, and gods eat ambrosia and nectar, but we all know we’re what we eat less what we excrete, and god’s shit therefore is pure evil, and should not be used for night soil or day soil or any kind of soiling you can think of, for farming or anything, really, other than smearing on bullets or stinking someplace up god-awful, say for a practical joke, or to clear a crowd.  Godshit is what the lake of fire is, not sulfur.   It’s really bad stuff.  The pipes from heaven go straight to hell.  That begs the question, is demonshit worse?  Well, there’s no food in hell, it’s full of hungry ghosts, wasting away in a pool of waste, waiting for something great, like the opening of the gates.  There’s food in hell, for the ones who can’t open their mouths.  The others can eat shit and die, but being born again is a whole different deal, in hell.  Because it’s never-ending misery, no matter what hole you come out of.  

Anyway, God is everywhere, and god is good, so hell is actually good, when you think about it, even if everyone thinks it’s eternal damnation, without respite, and really a sick dream of the most twisted God imaginable.  God thinks it’s good, and who am I to judge?  Maybe another God would have been kinder.   Maybe we need a kinder, gentler deity.

Or maybe we need a spiteful, malevolent, vicious, evil God who saves humanity by killing absolutely everyone.  Original sin makes us all unworthy of heavenly life on earth.  No one is good.  No one but God.   God the killer, who makes things right.   The righteous Republican who, with his right hand, writing, and rites, makes the sinister left leave, leaving only Right-brained folks like the Wright brothers, so everything will be alright.  Right?

With only half a brain, and a global population of 2 (Orville and Wilbur), the world is made right, holy, perfect, heavenly, utopian, and pleasant for the Holy One, God Almighty, who no longer needs to hear all that stupid incessant chatter of voices in his head, supplicating and praising and singing and whatnot, and never allowing a moment’s peace or rest, because of all that goddamn prayer, which I already knew every word of, anyway.   Ah yes, this is the life.   An empty planet to myself.  All those bodies in the soil are making the planet bloom with greenery and growth.  Much better.  I always know what’s best.  

Better everyone in heaven than God on earth in hell!  Two Adams won’t multiply, this time.  You can thank me, later.  I’m immortal, and those two pesky Wright brothers will be out of my hair in no time, before you can say, abracadaver!  I don’t need to talk to myself, because I already know what I’m going to say, :-).   I have infinity all mapped out.  I’m going to enjoy all my time by experiencing everything.  I’ll just become everybody, and do everything, forever, or until I get bored with it, again.  Billions of humans in my image and likeness can be fun, for awhile.  But nothing lasts forever.   Well, just me.   I’m nothing.   I’m imaginary, anyway.  Ask your smartest physicists.   They can tell you.   Science may be real, but the scientists themselves aren’t!   And God is of course a scientist.   I am.  I mean, I ain’t.   You know what I mean.

Fun fact: The philosophers sometimes say existence is better than non-existence.  Everybody in their own personal idea of heaven is of course the highest circle of heaven.  If God's personal heaven is everyone else's hell, well he can have it, even if it doesn't exist (or is only virtual).  God alone is good.

God isn’t a god.  He’s not even God.  He’s GOD!  Big and infinite and immortal and perfect and wise and loving and good!  What’s love got to do, got to do, with it? To do list? Todo.   That means everything, in spanish.  Toe-dough.  Doe, a deer, a female deer.  Doh! (like stubbing your toe).    A stub about a theory of everything.  So actually, GOD is God is god is gOd is GOd is gOD!  Or any other combination you choose, prefer.  He’s all over it.  It’s all you, dawg.   Queen Goddess of Wiccan delight.  The holiest of holies.  King of kings, lord of lords.  Yada yada yada.   Adi Da, ya.  

Gawd, God.   Y’d ya half two dew hat?  Create a universe so vast, with only us in it?  Seems an awful waste of space, if you ask me.   Well, you’re the omniscient one.  Who am I to question YOU.   Well, I do have a few questions: ...

Al Gore and Gorgeous George gorging on gorp and gorgonzola with gorgons at the gorge