I was wondering if God approved of Trump backing America’s ass out of the Paris climate accords when lo, He appeared to me.
Some people are skeptical about the fact that God makes regular revelations to me, and ask pointed questions about it, like how He manifests Himself. The answer is sometimes in Person, sometimes by cell phone. His latest appearance was made on Skype.
My critics also ask if I can call Him anytime I want. Sure, but I don’t. His number always goes straight to voicemail, and if you think He’s going to act on my message or yours, try praying to win the lottery and see what doesn’t happen.
“My Lord,” I exclaimed, when His image appeared on my tablet after that weird Skype ringtone.
“I get that a lot,” He replied. “I’m kind of a big thing.”
“Have you come to proclaim your Word on planetary warming?”
“Not really. I’m a little undecided about it.”
“I didn’t realize You were capable of indecision, Lord.”
“Oh, hell yeah. Can’t make up My mind about lots of stuff. Runs in the family. Why do you think Jesus is taking so long to come back?
“I would think you’d be against us slow-cooking the globe.”
“Remember what I said. I did give you guys dominion over it. Which the dolphins bitch about EVERY SINGLE DAY, by the way.”
“What about low-lying island nations and swampy places where millions of people live, like Bangladesh? How are those people going to escape the rising oceans?”
“Meh. Did I ask anybody to row a couple thousand miles just to get away from their neighbors? And don’t bother Me about Bangladesh. Haven’t I wapped it with enough cyclones? Those people need to get a clue and move to higher ground. Like Filipinos need to stay off ferries, before I capsize another one.”
“I didn’t realize there were particular peoples you favored more than others, Oh Lord.”
“BLASPHEMY! I LOVE EVERYBODY, which, frankly, is one of the most harrowing things about this job. But some people appeal to Me more than others. Like coal miners. They pray a lot, believe Me. And they look so cute when they’re covered in coal dust. And they write great folk songs (Here the Almighty paused to hum a few bars of “Down Deep in the Mine”).
“So, You’re going to let us torch the planet to save a few coal-mining jobs? You’re on the same page as Trump!”
“Well, when you put it that way, it doesn’t seem like such a good idea. But remember, whatever happens, it’s My will, even if I haven’t put much thought into it. That’s the way I roll.”
The Almighty seemed poised on the cusp of self-discovery, but just then the connection started to fuzz out.
“Me-damn Skype!” were the last of His Words.
Some people are skeptical about the fact that God makes regular revelations to me, and ask pointed questions about it, like how He manifests Himself. The answer is sometimes in Person, sometimes by cell phone. His latest appearance was made on Skype.
My critics also ask if I can call Him anytime I want. Sure, but I don’t. His number always goes straight to voicemail, and if you think He’s going to act on my message or yours, try praying to win the lottery and see what doesn’t happen.
“My Lord,” I exclaimed, when His image appeared on my tablet after that weird Skype ringtone.
“I get that a lot,” He replied. “I’m kind of a big thing.”
“Have you come to proclaim your Word on planetary warming?”
“Not really. I’m a little undecided about it.”
“I didn’t realize You were capable of indecision, Lord.”
“Oh, hell yeah. Can’t make up My mind about lots of stuff. Runs in the family. Why do you think Jesus is taking so long to come back?
“I would think you’d be against us slow-cooking the globe.”
“Remember what I said. I did give you guys dominion over it. Which the dolphins bitch about EVERY SINGLE DAY, by the way.”
“What about low-lying island nations and swampy places where millions of people live, like Bangladesh? How are those people going to escape the rising oceans?”
“Meh. Did I ask anybody to row a couple thousand miles just to get away from their neighbors? And don’t bother Me about Bangladesh. Haven’t I wapped it with enough cyclones? Those people need to get a clue and move to higher ground. Like Filipinos need to stay off ferries, before I capsize another one.”
“I didn’t realize there were particular peoples you favored more than others, Oh Lord.”
“BLASPHEMY! I LOVE EVERYBODY, which, frankly, is one of the most harrowing things about this job. But some people appeal to Me more than others. Like coal miners. They pray a lot, believe Me. And they look so cute when they’re covered in coal dust. And they write great folk songs (Here the Almighty paused to hum a few bars of “Down Deep in the Mine”).
“So, You’re going to let us torch the planet to save a few coal-mining jobs? You’re on the same page as Trump!”
“Well, when you put it that way, it doesn’t seem like such a good idea. But remember, whatever happens, it’s My will, even if I haven’t put much thought into it. That’s the way I roll.”
The Almighty seemed poised on the cusp of self-discovery, but just then the connection started to fuzz out.
“Me-damn Skype!” were the last of His Words.
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