Would you make a good Angel –OF DEATH?

It's a very hard position to keep filled.  Turnover's a real problem.  For every drug lord or pedophile to slaughter (the fun part) there's three dozen kindly grandma's to, um, 'process' as well.  So recruitment efforts now extend to the still-living.  It’s a very demanding job requiring a unique combination of skills.  But if you’re really interested and think you can hack it (there is quite a lot of hacking involved, actually) you can take this suitability test before formally applying.  Consider each question and pick the answer that best describes you, circle (or jot down on a pad) the number for each answer then add them all up and check your score.

A.  How good are you with a blade?

1. Not very; I cut myself whilst shaving, buttering toast, opening mail…

2. Somewhat; I can cut the head off broccoli, a fish, an infidel... whatever you need.

3. Very; I've lots of time to practice with my (renaissance fair) sword since I don’t have a girlfriend.

4. Awesome; I was a professional ninja for Halliburton until my job got outsourced to India .

B.  Have you ever struck another person with intent to harm?

1. No, of course not!  I don’t like these questions.  Where’s the link to Icanhascheezeburger?

2. Nightly; shooting, stabbing, tire-ironing, running over hookers -GrandTheftAuto counts, right?

3. Only children.  I am a nanny.

4. Only minorities.  I am a policeman.

C.  How empathetic are you?

1.  Totally; I feel your pain like Bill Clinton feels intern boobies.  -With a blinding intensity.

2.  Mostly; almost as deeply as a thoughtful Latina , but less than a Supreme Court justice.

3.  Somewhat;  I tried to make a living as a dominatrix, but can only stand it part time now.

4.  Not at all; after 10 years at the IRS I did prisoner relations at Abu Ghraib until it closed.

D.  How resistant to begging or bribing are you?

1.  Mmmm… depends on how many inputs are being offered.  3 is best.

2.  Somewhat; but you’d better have a really good story and look good on your knees.

3.  Not very; you’d have to be on the verge of curing cancer before I’d let you off the hook.

4.  I want to kill you just for asking.  Where’s my sword?

E.  How good are you at working alone?

1. Not at all.  I was hoping it would be a death-squad/wiki-group type gig.

2. Somewhat; sometimes I won’t share my tractor in Farmville unless I'm really shit-faced.

3. Very; I am a liberal intellectual and gay sculptor in central Alabama . Thank God for Facebook.

4. Completely; I play World of Warcraft all night, when not masturbating.  Sometimes when.

             Check Your Score

<11     So little backbone it’s a wonder you can
           stand.  Go get your Snuggie and carton
           of  Mallomars and go watch Glee.  You
           know you want to.

11-15  You have the heart but not the ability
            -yet. If you really want a shot at this
            position later on, go get a job in cor-
            rections (Texas or North Korea only)
            and work your way up to noose-
            tightener.

16-20   Not quite 'Angel of Death' material,
            but there’s always the less demanding
            position of 'Angel of Wishing for Death'.
            Somebody’s got to bring the hemorr-
            hoids and menstrual cramps.

21+     Ooh.  The dark side is strong in this
           one…  Whenever you're ready,
            Mr Cheney.

As always, If I Were God appreciates comments, ad-clicks and sharing of His articles.  He sees all; disappoint Him not.

Thou Shalt Not Be Scum

There's a lot of awful things one should never do in this life.  At the top of that list, right after genocide, is pedophilia.  Phychologists might argue that it's a symptom of a mental disorder (but nothing half a million volts in a specially designed chair couldn't cure) and not the conscious choice of the perpetrator.

What clearly is a choice is writing and self-publishing a how-to book for pedophiles.  Now the subject of death threats, police investigation (and protection) is author Phillip Ray Greaves for his 'seminal' work  “The Pedophile’s Guide To Love And Pleasure”, available until like yesterday on Amazon.  I cannot imagine what would posses anybody with the brain power to author a book to use that skill to help pedophiles to not get caught.  Perhaps he just finished reading a how-to book himself, "How to write a book so vile the mere subject matter would make people want to kill you". (Also available on Amazon)

As you may know from earlier posts I am a big fan of a smiting God.  He hasn't done it in a while, at least not in the big splashy way He used to, but I'd like to lobby for a special come-back of it, like the McRib.  We just need to see one every once in a while.

Since there is currently no commandment like "Thou Shalt not molest children", and certainly no "Thou Shalt not aid and abet the molesting of children"  I'd like to propose a catch-all commandment for all such crimes and how-to manuals.  Thou Shalt Not Be Scum.

The good news is that this Phillip Ray Greaves is ruined for life now.  Even if the DA cannot find a way to charge him with something, the stink of this will follow him forever.  By which I mean this life and the next.  Nobody will want to know him, date him, sleep with him... even in hell he'll probably need his own private pit of boiling lava when none of the other inmates will bunk with him.  Misery loves company, but he'll burn alone.

...Beauty would be earned

This blog was created 3 weeks ago to be about upgrades for Creation, and it's time I got specific.

If I were God...
Beauty would be earned, not given out blindly at birth like some half-assed lottery.  All children would start out looking average.  The cooler you were to your fellow man, the better looking you'd get as you grew up.  The more of a dick you were, the more you'd look like my dog's ass.  (Can you imagine what Dick Cheney would look like now?  Eesh.)

[The above excerpt is from my forthcoming book "What if God is Cheating on Us?" coming soon to a website near you]

I think that's a perfect place to start the upgrading.  It not only rewards the good and punishes the bad, it's an external conscience, a needful thing as so many ignore their inner one.  You'd either wake up in the morning to find your pores are a little smaller and acne disappearing and you know "I must be doing alright".  OR you'd find that little spot on your nose has become a wart the size and general shape of Justin Beiber's head.  Then you'd know you've been a dick and it's time to change.  Once it starts singing, it's too late.

The other huge benefit is the good could spot the bad a mile away and know to keep away from them.  (For those without binoculars it might be only a hundred yards or so, but still...)  Cops chasing a masked bank robber who ducks into a store would just have to look everybody over once to know who to 'cuff  "You, with the teen sensation on your nose, put your hands up and turn around slowly!"

A good day in Creation 2.0 (Feel free to act as my review board, and let me know if you approve)

If you enjoyed this, please pass it on - the more the merrier!

How to get into Heaven - (part II)

In the afterlife Heaven's definitely the place to be and everyone will want in.  That being the case getting in might be as tough as trying to get in the hottest nightclub in town; only the beautiful get in -the beautiful of spirit.  St Peter would be the hugely muscled bouncer with the clipboard at the front door, and very few would automatically make the VIP list (Mother Theresa, John Paul II, whoever invented Viagra...)  You might find that just not being a dick only means you haven't made yourself uglier.  The thing that will really count is have you been beautiful, which would make you beautiful -again, in spirit.

But if the nightclub analogy is too tacky for the heaven lover in you then I've got another.  Why not, nobody really knows what it'll be like so one imagining is as good as another.

What if it’s done more like the NFL draft where your good plays (in college) are weighed against your bad?  Your touchdowns count for a lot, but so do your fumbles.  Even Walter Peyton fumbled once in a while, but his touchdowns far outnumbered them.  We should learn from that example.  He’s in the Pro Football Hall of Fame AND heaven (probably). 

Keep it in mind for those times you just can't help being bad.  For every time you fart in your boss’s coffee cup you’d better make damn sure you help a few old ladies cross the street.  And if there’s only one old lady then help her cross a couple of streets whether she wants you to or not.  Even if it takes her out of her way.  Tell her Matlock’s in town doing a book signing a few blocks away, she’ll go.

So how else can one stock up on touchdowns?  Glad you asked.  The opportunities are legion, but you have to go further than simply not being a dick.  You need to go that extra mile;

I'm not saying you have to cure cancer.  Let's be real, you're probably not smart enough.  Although if you are you should definitely go for it.  You'll get fortune and fame here now, and absolutely get in up there later.

For everybody else simple opportunities abound.  Go on a date with somebody a full point or two below you on the ten-scale, but without making them feel it.  No need to go for an absurd disparity –like a Julia Roberts/Lyle Lovett match, unless you really want some prime real estate in the afterlife.  Let’s say George Clooney stopped dating models and married Susan Boyle.  He’d get a house in Mother Theresa’s Cul de Sac, maybe a nice expanded colonial next to John Paul II’s three story Victorian.

What else would help?

Let her hold the remote.  Every night. (might as well get used to GLEE and GREY'S ANATOMY)

Let him host/go to poker nights.  Without complaints.  (extra points for serving finger sandwiches or homemade dip) (extra, extra points for getting all dolled up so he looks like a stud and his friends get jealous)

I'm sure you have suggestions of your own, let's hear 'em!
And if you liked this post and this site please pass it to whomever you think will enjoy it -the more the merrier.  It'll definitely count as one of your good deeds -might even put you over the top. (better to send it to two or three people, just to be safe)

You can even pray for great SEX -if you come correct

If I were god I would certainly be a just and benevolent ruler of all things.   Generous to a fault, even. -though really, who would dare fault me?  Neitzsche, shut yer hole!  But that doesn’t mean I don’t need to see a little effort.  Make yourself stand out a little.  I too crave entertainment.  You have a request?  Earn it, baby.

  I pray to thee my only god

  With a request that’s a little odd

  You alone do I faithfully follow

  Could you please convince my wife to swallow

See?  Now that’s a prayer I’d feel good about answering.

But a nifty rhyme doesn’t automatically mean you’ll get what you want either.  Especially if you ask for something inherently evil.  For example;

Dear God, so smart, so strong and so nice

I’d like to ask a favor if I might

Could You make the Giants fumble once or twice

So my team can beat them on Monday Night

Firstly and foremostly there will be no divine action taken against the NY Giants for any reason.  Just know that and don’t forget it.  And they’re quite experienced at screwing up their own seasons without any outside help anyway. 

Secondly (and secondmostly) I could not claim to be a benevolent god if I went around causing undeserved fumbles in the NFL.  It’s just wrong and I’ve got a rep to protect.

Except for the Cowboys.  They can fumble.  They might be America’s team, but they’d be this God’s rented mule. (Judging by the current season, they’re everybody’s rented mule)

Thirdly (and thirdmostly) you’re so much better off approaching your problems from a positive angle.  Rather than asking for divine intervention to make the Giants somehow fail, for example, you should ask for divine guidance to somehow make yourself less of a douche.  That, I’d be willing to help you with.

So send in your prayers and if they're good, and in iambic pentameter (that's a Shakespearian rhyming pattern for all you Jersey Shore fans out there) I'd not only post your prayers, I'd grant them -if I were God or had His powers.*

*author is neither God nor possesed of any god-like powers.  Author's actual powers of creation are limited to unwanted nitrogen gas from one end, and mediocre satire he's far too self-impressed with out the other.

In the beginning...

...there was only the headers above and empty fields below.  Yet all about was blankness.  Yea did I, being a Load, cry out from the blankness "Let there be write!"  And lo the Good Load did write for six days and six nights (on and off).  And looking down from the headers upon all he had written, the Load saw that it was good.  Except for a few misspellings.  And an over-developed sense of the dramatic.  And a pompous tendancy for self-glorification... -but other than that, yea the Load did see that it was good.  And on the seventh day the Good Load did rest.  For it was Sunday, and the NY Giants kick off at 1.  Amen, praised be the Load.

Some might think it's unfair to compare creating a blog from scratch to creating, uh, creation from scratch but I think it's harder.  For one thing I have a ton of restrictions and limitations hemming in my creativity.  God didn't have to deal with any pop-up windows saying "those dinosaurs cannot be placed here as they will freeze and die out during the ice ages.  You must first reconfigure either their ability to maintain their own internal temperatures or recalibrate the planetary climate range..."  No, He just put down the this-a-saurus here and the that-a-saurus there and walked away.  If it didn't work out that was their hard luck (ending up as gasoline-a-saruses).  By then He had moved on to his new hobby of landscaping, garden design and overy restrictive regulations on fruit consumption. 

I'll get no such free pass and will instead have to endure comparisons to any number of other blogs, vlogs and internet offerings.  Somebody is sure to comment that I'm not as funny as that site with pictures of tiny kittens in hats, or even tinier kittens in tea cups or yet tinier hat-wearing tea cups inside kittens (?) or whatever the thinking-challenged find funny these days when Jersey Shore isn't on. 

On the other hand whatever God made had to be considered great because there was nothing to compare it to.  It demanded worship based on its unprecedentedness alone.  Kind of like the awe Henry Ford must have basked in when he rolled out the Model-T.  Do you know what that car was like?  No power steering, you had to crank it from the front to get it to start, top speed of 18mph, engine smoke blew right into the front seat, no radio, CD player, air conditioning, windshield wipers, power anything... yet with nothing to compare it to it was considered a chariot of the gods.  You couldn't give a car like that away today; not even a one-legged shoeless convict in the midst of a prison break would take it.  "No thanks, I'll just hop."

That's what brought about this blog.  I want to tell all of you, and humbly suggest to Him if He's reading, about all the upgrades and fixes I'd bring to this Model-T of a world to make it into the butterfly-doored pewter Maserati of a world I think it could still be molded into -If I were God.