Saturday, June 30, 2007

Nobody Calls God A Man

Nobody’s Opinion: Honestly…I woke up today thinking this very thought…nobody calls God a man.

Hey--- I thought it was funny, especially just waking up.

Being as the conversations once again on MND have come to boatloads of vast esoterical questions on whether or not men and women can ever communicate---is Venus on Mars?---are we all missing the picture and the point?--- and is taking steroids going to help?

Will Yoko Ono ever talk to Paul McCartney?

I decided when waking up this morning that it was certainly a good thing God doesn’t has to deal with this stuff…or does he?

SCENE: God is up in his pinnacle soft, cushy, god-like “chair” watching universes being born, galaxies colliding, comets crashing, plants spinning, stars bursting…

Mrs. God comes up to him: Hi honey…what ya doing? Are you busy?

GOD: Yeah, I’m watching a really great chaos scene…why? What do you want now? I happen to be relaxing because I just had a Big Bang, and I’m pretty tired and worked hard. I deserve a rest.

MRS GOD: I know honey, but…can’t you clean things up a little around here? I mean, I’m tripping over all this star stuff…can’t you do something?…I mean LOOK at it all. It’s a mess.

GOD: No it’s not. Anyway, I’ll get to it later.

MRS GOD: Well, let me just make a few suggestions…why don’t you put some of that dark matter stuff throughout it all, you know, give it more balance…spread it all out a little…after all, I have to pick up enough star stuff every day, it would help me out a lot.

GOD: Can’t do it. Won’t work.

MRS GOD: What do you mean, it won’t work? Why not?

GOD: It just won’t, you don’t know anything about this stuff.

Mrs. God sighs. She turns around, and trips over the galactic fountain in Carina, which was not in place…which tossed her down a black hole. She comes out in another dimension, far away from her husband.

Quite some time later she gets back to him…tired from picking up some big messes back in the 11th dimension. The worm hole took a long time to clean. Not to mention the pulsar was giving her a headache.

MRS GOD: She looks around. Oh…honey, you did do it! It looks so much better!

GOD: Well, I was tired, but I decided that my idea of putting some more dark matter and balance to the many billions of universes might actually be good glue. What do you think? I think it looks pretty good.

MRS GOD: Oh...it's really beautiful…but tell me…is it me? Or do you just have four dimensions going on here?

GOD: Yeah, why?

MRS GOD: Well, don’t you think you should add some more?…you know, maybe eleven? And maybe you could “string” the dimensions all together like? Wouldn’t that be pretty?

GOD: You’ve got to be kidding me. (God looks very annoyed)

MRS GOD: Well, you know I just got back from the eleventh dimension and it really does look pretty as a picture.

GOD….says nothing.

MRS GOD: Well, maybe later...I know you’re tired.

GOD
….says nothing.

MRS GOD: Honey? (Knowing it was time to change the subject) When was the last time you visited that cute little planet Earth? I mean, they sure could use some help down there. You know, they’re pretty isolated. Maybe you could send down your spirit in a “son” you know, put it in a man and he could give them poor people some help.

GOD: Won’t work.

MRS GOD: Why not?

GOD: Well, for one thing, it’s not as easy as it looks. Putting my “seed” into a Virgin is not exactly a good time right now, they are still in the dark ages. She might be killed.

MRS GOD: Well, why don’t you let me help out? I could get some angels to do some talking…you know…

GOD: You and your angels.

MRS GOD: Oh honey, it won’t take you long.

GOD: Okay…I might as well do this stuff, but after that…I’m going to RELAX!

MRS GOD: Yes, honey, you deserve it.

She goes over to move the black hole that she tripped in before out of the way.

While she is doing that, God puts in more dimensions, puts Jesus on the Earth, flicks a star for his benefit from his little finger, then relaxes back down into his nebulous cushion, adjusts the Orion and Horsehead Nebulae one more time, and starts snoring.

This in turn blows two hundred galaxies off course, thereby causing a ripple affect of massive solar flares from the sun next to the little plant Earth.

Mrs. God sighs. She knows when he wakes up she is going to have to get him to do something about that man on earth named Al Gore, who is causing a big problem.

Also, she doesn’t like just having eleven dimensions in this universe…she thinks a few more might actually make things look a bit nicer.

Mrs. God thinks: What would he do without me?

******
Nobody Cares; In the event of a castrostophic revelation of someone actually discovering the meaning of life and death, and all the answers in-between, I will forever be considering just about everything in the universe, with the exception of gardenias…absurd.

At least until I talk to Mrs God.

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