The Omnipotent Poobah Speaks!: Dear George...

Dear George...

Dear George,

I just wanted to drop a note to say how displeased I've been with some of your behavior lately. I know you're always prattling on about how I speak to you, but you and I know that isn't really true. In fact, it's a little presumptuous to say so. Somehow it makes you seem almost messiah-like and you're nothing of the sort. I talked to Jesus about it and he was really mad. He even threatened to come down there and nail you to a cross himself. Not exactly the type of behavior you'd expect from the Prince of Peace, but I can understand his feelings. So even though I'm not usually one to talk directly to you pitiful mortals, I figured a registered letter was a good idea. Judging from your behavior, I'd like to have a paper trail. You never know when there could be indictments.

Let's start with this whole compassionate conservative thing. I mean please, what twaddle. You run around the world telling people how good they have it rather than doing things to make it happen. That's called hypocrisy George and I should know because I invented it, just like everything else. I've always taught you wretched beings that saying you'll do something is a sacred oath to honor. It's the whole basis for trust and civility in that ant farm you call a planet. I know you've been making mistakes like this for years, and maybe I should have stepped in sooner - my bad if that's true. But, my first impulse was to let you figure it out on your own - I mean I did give you a brain - but I guess they must have dropped it back in the factory. That's what I get for outsourcing production capacity. I guess I've learned a lesson too - if you want something done right, do it yourself.

Then there's this whole bully thing. I don't know where you got the idea that poking other people in the eye was a good way to make friends and influence people (that Norman Vincent Peale was one of my better products, I must say). It seems you're always running around invading people or twisting their arms or stealing their lunch money. But what makes your boorish behavior really bad is how you demand they're falling down on the job by not being happy about you terrorizing them. That sort of behavior is just not cool and if you don't knock it off PDQ, you might find yourself with a thunderbolt stuck up your ass. I think you know I'm not one to make idle threats, just ask the Babylonians.

Another thing that really chaps me raw is how you're always blaming things on other religions. Although to be fair, at least some of the religion thing is Jesus's fault. He's the one that got you pissants together and organized you into different tribes who hate each other, but what's done is done. That kid never did understand I created evil to keep all the pollyannas in check. He was always making stupid decisions like that. I thought I brought him up better than that, but there you go. I guess I haven't been as good a parent as I'd have liked, being a single parent and all. Anyway, stop dissing the Muslims and all the rest of those people who scare you so much. And leave the atheists alone too. It's their business if they want to believe in me and I'm not one to quibble with personal decisions. I'm not sure I'd believe in me either if I saw the mess you and your friends have made of the place. You're really damaging my credibility George and I don't like it one damned bit.

I guess I'll close by saying I'm very disappointed in you. You've left half the world in a lurch and you and your friends have been pilfering the collection box. Let me tell you George, I'm a pretty big dude and you can't just get away with stealing my lunch money. Remember, what's yours is mine...period. I'd really like you to clean up your act. Read that Bible I had the twins (say hello to the girls for me, they're hot) give you last Christmas. It's a pretty good owner's manual for leading a reasonable life, but so are the Quaran, the Torah, and all the rest of the books I've had distributed. You're fond of saying how much you love me and want to please me, but I have to tell you, you're falling short...way short. I want you to clean up your act and get right with me. I hate to be pushy, but I'd like to remind you that someday you'll die. And let me tell you, St. Peter is a tough grader, not the type to be happy with a D- GPA if you get my drift. If you can't clean yourself up, don't be surprised if you fail your finals and Peter turns you over to Professor Beelzebub's remedial class. That would be a shame, but I'll do what I have to do.

I'd also appreciate it if you'd keep this letter between you, me, and the fencepost. If I see the slightest hint you've leaked this letter for your own benefit, I swear I'll come down on you like a ton of bricks. I've been talking to that Anna Nicole Smith chick - a little ditsy, but she's a lot of fun - and she reminded me that if the press gets wind of this letter, the paparazzi will stick to me like stink on shit. Just remember this George:

You're expendable. I could smite you easier than flicking a booger off my sleeve. Now get back to work and learn to play nice with the other kids before I give you a good swat.

Omnisciently Yours,
God