GOD READS MY BLOG?

A minister from Springfield, Missouri wrote to tell me that I had better stop blaspheming the Godhead because God was reading my blog and would judge me severely. Wow! Either a total crackpot reads my blog or God reads my blog—either way, pretty cool. It also explains some rather strange anonymous messages that magically appeared in my inbox.

“Dear TP—I know what your real name is and where you live. And guess what, I can hit you with a lightning bolt even when you’re cowering in your basement rec room.”

“Dear TP, since you hate me and my fundamentalists so much, I think I'll make you go to heaven when you die. Just think of that, an eternity with Fundamentalist Christians! HA HA HA HA HA. Oh damn, then we’d be stuck with you, and that would make our heaven a hell. Maybe I’ll invent automata fundamentalists and then send them to hell to torment you. Ah shit, how’d I ever tell my fundamentalists from the robots? Damn it. Don’t worry, I’ll figure out something evil for you before I kill you.”

"Dear TP, still haven’t figured out your hell, but so long as you don’t tell people to kill my Fundamentalist Christians (I’m gonna be stuck with them for eternity, I don’t really want them any earlier than I have to), I say kill kill kill.

"You know what happened. I was down on earth to get some Thai food, and commented on some young lady’s thongs—guess what, thongs doesn’t mean the same thing that it used to. You know what she did—she sued me for sexual harassment! Me, God, for sexual harassment. And it only got worse—in court, her lawyer asked if I was God, and I said yes, and that was used against me! “As God, can you see through things?” “Of course, I’m God.” “So you were looking through my client’s clothes?” “No, of course not.” “So you’re not God?” “Yes, I’m God.” “So you just happened to know that my client was wearing a thong? Doesn’t that seem a bit convenient?” “You’re putting words in my mouth you Whore of Babylon.” That Whore of Babylon comment pretty much sealed my fate and cost me an extra pearly gate. When folks get to heaven now, they’re gonna see some pot holes in the roads of gold—those potholes are what I had to pay to get me out of that fix--once juries hear you're God, they think you're just made of gold. I sure hate people.

"Why am I telling you this? Well, I sure can’t complain like this to Christians--they might stop doing everything I tell them if they think I don't love them anymore. Anyway, back to my point—I hate you and you’re going to hell, along with that lady in the thong and her lawyer (who was also wearing a thong, btw)."

"Dear T, I sure wish my Israelites would have done what I wanted way back when, killed off all the non-Israelites and such. Things would have been so much simpler. No science to have to worry about, no overpopulation, no need to send Jesus down. I think I should just pack this planet in and go start on some of these new planets that are being discovered. Maybe bacteria need a new God.

"It was nice tormenting you, watch out for a massive asteroid in three weeks. Oh, and don’t tell the Fundamentalists that I’m cancelling heaven—I don’t want to ruin it for the bacteria."