Joe, the New God (Part 1)

Mormons are not psychic. I know this because I asked one of them some time ago and she said she wasn’t. Assuming Mormon don’t lie – I mean, the threat of eternal damnation being what it is and all – then it should be true that Mormons are not psychic. This must be why they keep coming to the door; they don’t know that I can’t be converted to their religion no matter how good their news is. Of course, whether news is good or not is largely dependent upon perspective.

Despite being stalked by Mormons, all things considered they are mostly harmless. (Gotta try and take that whole perspective thing into account.) But yesterday I become annoyed when I peeked through my window blinds to see them in the grassy knoll across the street spying on me. (So much for perspective.) Knowing I was home and strangely undeterred by Spinal Tap turned up to 11, they pounded on my door. “Like God in your heart, we know you’re in there,” they yelled.

Yep, it was just me, a vengeful God in my heart and my baseball bat. Eventually they gave up and went away, along with the potential murder charges. But I knew they were going to be back. Why isn’t there a ‘do-not-call’ list for religious zealots like there is for telemarketers? There had to be someone – a priest, a rabbi, a cleric, Satan – I could write to. Might as well go right to the top.

“Dear God, I am writing to you concerning the company you keep. In the past month alone, I’ve been visited by Mormons soliciting on your behalf five times. As you know (and you know everything, right?) I have my own religious (read: spiritual) convictions that are far beyond the ability of my fellow humans to understand. Seriously, anyone trying to figure out my religious orientation should pop a bottle of Xanax first. But this is beside the point; I have better things to do with my time than decline the advances of philosophically challenged Mormons. I am a very busy person who does not have time to put up with vacuum salesmen trying to sell me something that sucks.

I am particularly offended by the second to last pair of Mormons you sent to my door, a couple of very attractive young women, presumably virgins. Although I have not been in a relationship for six months now, I quickly saw through this ruse. You must think I’m stupid or horny. I suppose being horny can lead to stupidity sometimes…Anyway, it is a sad day when a deity as powerful as yourself finds themselves resorting to such juvenile tactics.

In the future, please refrain from sending any more of your emissaries, prophets or advocates for the missionary position to my door. Instead, please direct such personnel to my neighbor’s house whose dogs bark incessantly at three in the morning.  There’s a good chance you’re going to meet those people before you ever meet me. Sincerely, Joe.”

It’s more than a week later and as it turns out, the letter was returned after two days due to insufficient postage. Fortunately, I was happening by a church the other day and remembered that there’s usually a good bit of money in the tithing basket. So I switched the money in the basket for Monopoly money. (I know people are not so stupid as to mistake real money for Monopoly money, so I only used the green Monopoly dollars which probably bought me just enough time to make my escape. And, yes, I actually do keep Monopoly money in my back pocket. I happen by churches all the time.) Off the letter went. How long it takes to get to where it’s going, who knows. The universe is a big place; the letter probably should have gone air mail at the very least.

Now it’s several years later and Mormons have learned not to knock on my door without protective gear. They are tenacious, I’ll give ‘em that. But while I usually admire such persistence, even my patience has its limits. Clutching a shotgun while ordering a wooden rocking chair on Amazon, a letter is slipped under my door. Oh, look, it’s a letter from…the Council of Answers? Who the?

“Dear Joe: Tenant of Earth; We, the Council of Answers, regret to inform you that God has taken the day off to attend to personal matters (i.e. ‘that time of the month’). Please note that a day in God’s time is equal to six million years so that you are not expecting a personal response any time soon. For future reference, for speedier service, you may attempt to email God directly at Until such time God does return to the office or return correspondence, we, the Council of Answers, will attempt to address your concerns.

Unfortunately, there is no precedent for the situation such as you have described it. In fact, much has changed on you planet within just the past few minutes, our time. This is to say that from our perspective, 7,000 Earth years have passed so it was unknown to us what Mormons or Xanax were until we decoded your unnecessarily complicated language. Normally we, the Council of Answers, would consult God for assistance but God, in her blind fury, told us not to call for any reason. Being fearful of losing our jobs in the midst of the cosmic recession, we, the Council of Answers, will try to solve your problem ourselves.

Again, unfortunately – you’d be surprised by the amount of misfortune in the universe – a resolution to your situation will unlikely come in your lifetime. We, the Council of Answers, do realize this may be inconvenient for you so we, the Council of Answers, will attempt to expedite your case. You will hopefully hear from us before you are interned (as you alluded to murder most foul). However, this is a best case scenario. You should probably not expect to hear from us before your die of old age as unprecedented cases take time to discuss. Thank you for your patience, The Council of Answers.”

Their reply wasn’t quite what I was expecting. So I wrote another letter that I sent by space-mail for speediest results.

“Dear Council of Answers, Thank you for your timely response. (Sarcasm font required.) I have taken your position into account and have come to a decision on my own in order to expedite my case. I hope you find my solution satisfactory.

Seeing how God has taken leave at a most inconvenient time, my friends and I (read: I) have taken the liberty of appointing me He Who Is, at least as far as Earth is concerned. As I become familiar with my new role I do intend to expand my operations to the rest of my solar system and eventually the Milky Way galaxy. As this undertaking is voluntary on my part, I will seek no monetary compensation for my appointment until the current cosmic recession has eased. Hope this helps.

Please be sure to reflect this change in command in your records. Let the record show that all Mormons have been blinked out of existence effectively immediately so that you no longer need concern yourselves with what a Mormon is.

In the interest of transparency, I will keep your office updated on a regular basis as I make progress. Kindly remember that for the remainder of the time God is out of the office, I am (at least) one of your bosses and this boss has a thing for smiting. Or is it smoting? I proclaim it ‘smoting.’ See, I’m making improvements already. Have a nice day. Sincerely, John, Executive Deity of Earth and Eventually the Milky Way.”

They wrote back post haste.

“Dear Executive Director of Earth, We, the Council of Answers, have taken a few seconds to suspend all other matters in order to focus upon this unexpected, unprecedented turn of events. As it stands, no sentient being has ever challenged the right to any of God’s domains. Upon review of the legalities, it is perfectly within your right to do so though who would have expected this from such a young species. You have our undivided attention…”

Apparently they were unaware of the many people claiming to be God or some such over the centuries. However, maybe I am the first to file official notice.

“…Be that as it may, we, the Council of Answers, would like to propose the following – If you are willing to guarantee us economic security through the entirety of existence of the universe, we, the Council of Answers, will represent you in a court of universal law and argue that you be appointed God of Everything.

This would require a strong commitment on your behalf. If you waiver at any point in this process of election or in your subsequent duties, we, the Council of Answers, will in all likelihood be literally terminated. Though not entirely comfortable with this idea, morale is down in the office seeing how God is tremendously difficult to work for. It is our suspicion that you could be no worse an employer.

For your consideration, it should be known that God has never lost a case and has been known to cast an opponent or two into a lake of fire. But, if we hold proceedings today – seeing how this office is responsible for scheduling such cases – God may not show up for the hearing and you would win by default. Seeing how we, the Council of Answers, cannot contact God right now…we believe you get the picture. Though this is admittedly underhanded of us, desperate times require desperate measures as you humans sometimes say. We, the Council of Answers also admit we find this very amusing. Anxiously awaiting your reply, The Council of Answers.”

This turn of events sure would solve a lot of my problems. And with that thought, I’m whisked away by teleportation to the latter half of an episode of Law and Order.


(To be continued)


All Rights Reserved (c) September 2016 John J Vinacci

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