Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Satire: 'You Stupid Human Beings, This Is 'God' Speaking'

Last night, a few minutes after I exited our local bar, I lost consciousness and passed out. As I lay face down somewhere on the path between the bar and my home, I had a dream. Nay, a vision. It was god himself. At first I didn’t believe him. But then he showed me his PAN card and I was like “you can’t fake that!” God told me that when I would wake up in the morning and head home there would be a message from him waiting on my computer. 

And that he’d owe me big time if I helped him get that out. So in the morning, after I was woken up by a very rude law enforcement officer, I headed home and went straight to my computer.
And voila, right there on the desktop was a .txt file with the name “MESSAGE”. You’d think the master of all of existence would at least know how to use MS Word. Anyway, we’ve reproduced his missive, word for word. Blame him for any typos.

Hello, fallible mortal beings!

What is going on in your insignificant little lives? Actually, don’t answer that. No, not because I already know, but because I cannot bring myself to care.

Now, now, don’t be all upset. This shouldn’t come as a surprise to you. There are so many of you. Do you expect me to give a rat’s ass about everyone? Look, it’s not that I don’t provide for you. I gave you a place to live. I taught you how to feed and clothe yourself. Isn’t that enough? What else do you want me to do, give you a hug?

Stop vomiting all your feelings and listen to me, you cry-baby. I’m here because I’ve had it with you. I didn’t want to say anything before because that would mean acknowledging your inconsequential presence. But enough is enough! It’s time for me to set the record straight.

Most of the time, the charlatans who claim to have heard from me are just making stuff up. I don’t blame them, though. They’re con artists. That’s their job. I blame the people who believe them. What sort of an idiot thinks that the lord of the universe, the master of space and time, the creator of more celestial bodies than there are people on earth, would pick an illiterate ignoramus who thinks women are slaves and boys making out is icky to be his spokesperson? 

Therefore, to avoid having some jabronie presenting his own prejudices as mine, this time I am choosing to speak through someone so dumb and cowardly that he wouldn’t even dare to disclose his real name, let alone change what I have to say.

I am commanding you to disregard everything anyone has ever told you about me. I’m wiping the slate clean. Only what I am going to say right now is truly the word of god. If someone tries to tell you otherwise, ask them to sod off.

The next thing I want you to do is to stop trying to punish people on my behalf. You think the metaphysical entity that encapsulates the entire cosmos needs the protection of some puny little freak living on a tiny dot in a terribly unimpressive galaxy? Mind you own business, champ. No one on your wretched little planet has any right to use my name for any of their actions. From now on, if anyone does that, I’m going to personally make sure that they spend an eternity in hell, which is just an empty room in Florida full of a million screens playing Jackky Bhagnani movies in an unending loop.

Let’s face it. You don’t really love me. I’m just another prop for you to use to try to convince yourself that you are better than “the others”. If you weren’t fighting over me, you’d be killing each other over parking spaces or smartphone operating systems.

I think you’re my comeuppance for getting rid of the dinosaurs. Don’t get me wrong. I actually liked those ghastly beasts. But I didn’t want to spend the rest of my infinite existence watching a bunch of Brachiosauruses slowly munching leaves. Those useless pencil-necked freaks were worse than vegans!

And the only way to pass time in heaven back then was to simply stand there all day while some sort of Carnatic music played in the background. Seriously. It sucked. In fact, before the Punjabis came along, we didn’t even have any non-vegetarian food in our cafeteria. Everything was boring, staid, and white. It was like working in the offices of The Hindu.

I created you to entertain myself. Instead, all I got from you were nightmares. I don’t know how you have the gall to call yourself “the smartest species on earth”. What use is the body of knowledge you guys spent centuries trying to put together if most of you spend your whole life punching other people in the face because they don’t subscribe to the same stupid notions as you? 

Even squirrels have this shit figured out. A squirrel will never strap a bomb to its belt and blow up a bunch of other squirrels it has never met. Ducks don’t walk into the offices of Disney with assault weapons to annihilate the artists who made them look like pants-less perverts. Elephants don’t go on rampages killing innocent bystanders. Okay fine. I’ll give you the last one.

How do you guys live with yourselves? I have gotten ulcers bigger than Australia just by watching you exist. I can’t even imagine how any of you wake up everyday, look at the activities of your fellow men and not wish for a swift and painful end to each and every one of your kind.

You’re the species that spends money on developing more powerful and accurate flying robots so that you can shoot down each other with more precision rather than trying to alleviate poverty and disease. A couple of your tribes have spent millennia fighting each other over an obsessive desire to live in a barren piece of land in possibly the worst place on the planet. You’re the people who line up for days on end to buy a phone you can get delivered to your home, for free. How does such insanity not drive you crazy?

You depress me so much I end up going on a bender from time to time. I have spent the last few centuries doing nothing but binge drinking, and turning heaven into one huge meth lab. I even had to sell three of Saturn’s rings and four of Jupiter’s moons to Mukesh Ambani so that I could finance my crippling dependency on painkillers.

If it wasn’t clear, I’m formally breaking up with you. I don’t want anything to do with you. Don’t pray to me. Don’t have any expectations. I’m not going to even think about you from now on. You’re dead to me. And knowing your species penchant for destruction, that will come true sooner than later.

However, before I leave you to fend for yourselves, I want to give you a few words to remember me by. Whenever you’re feeling low. Whenever you think that things couldn’t get worse. Whenever you feel like reaching out into the unknown and holding on to a piece of me. Whenever you get so overwhelmed by the events of your life that you don’t think you can go on. All you have to do is recall these three words: go fuck yourself.

See ya, suckers!

God, out.

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