'Twas the Night Before New Year's

‘Twas the night before New Year’s

And all through the world

Many ideas were stirring

And many dreams swirled

Resolutions made in batches

By both beggars and kings

some expections find matches

others -forgotton things

Somewhere a warlord is arming

Planning for battles nonstop

Elsewhere a family is farming

Expecting a robust bumper crop

But the warlord’s target will be ready

And his invasion will flop

Elsewhere rain will fall too steady

And the fields will turn to slop

Somewhere a writer in foreclosure

Will have his family’s suitcases all zipped

And just as he loses composure

Hollywood will option his script

Every great plan one could think

Is still fair game for failing

The ship ‘God himself could not sink’

Sank on its very first sailing

Yet I offer this truth, a mere kernal

You ought still plan long and plan well

For hope springs eternal

Always drink from that well

But never bet your whole money belt

Only a fool sticks out his neck

you have only the cards you are dealt

God holds the deck

To the 56 countries that visited so far: MERRY CHRISTMAS!

(Update: 61 now; welcome Sri Lanka, Isle of Man, Estonia, Romania, Netherlands Antilles)
What a short strange trip it's been -so far.  This blog turned 2 months old last Thursday, still young even by internet standards.  I expected to have American readers, of course, and I don't know -maybe a few from Canada or England?  I was shocked to see the first two countries beyond the US were Taiwan and Norway.  It began an unfolding of the world map in ways I never expected, and certainly not in the mere weeks since it began.  And "If I were God..." began from nothing (not unlike the world itself)  Although the beginning is another story. 

It's a testament to the global reach of the net itself of course, and man's unquenchable thirst for truth, knowledge and free entertainment.  Since readership keeps growing I will take that to mean I'm succeeding in amusing you with my satiric ramblings, with a little food for thought sprinkled in here and there.  The SquirrelDog/new creatures and Tips for Life posts were your overwhelming favorites, and I'm glad you liked them.  They were so much fun to put together.  It's been my pleasure from the start and I plan to keep bringin' it, and I hope you'll continue to keep coming back.  So to everyone from Taiwan to Panama and the 50+ nations in between, thank you and MERRY CHRISTMAS!

If I Were God's list of nations,

in the order they arrived

  1  US
  2  Taiwan
  3  Norway
  4  Canada
  5  United Arab Emerites
  6  Germany
  7  Australia
  8  United Kingdom
  9  Russia
10  Thailand
11  Philippines
12  Singapore
13  France
14  Saudi Arabia
15  Iceland
16  Hong Kong
17  Croatia
18  Pakistan
19  Denmark
20  Spain
21  Guernsey
22  Mexico
23  Egypt
24  Indonesia
25  Netherlands
26  Ireland
27  India
28  New Zealand
29  Malaysia
30  South Africa
31  Finland
32  Greece
33  Jamaica
34  Belgium
35  South Korea
36  Belarus
37  Kenya
38  Malta
39  Kuwait
40  Brazil
41  Japan
42  China
43  Latvia
44  Oman
45  Argentina
46  Bosnia and Herzegovina
47  Portugal
48  Turkey
49  Lithuania
50  Israel
51  Sweden
52  Slovenia
53  Bulgaria
54  Costa Rica
55  Jordan
56  Panama
57  Sri Lanka -added 12/23
58  Isle of Man -added 12/23
59  Estonia -added 12/24
60  Romania -added 12/24
61  Netherlands Antilles -added 12/24

God's own Christmas list

I’ll wager it’s never even occurred to most of you that He should be getting the presents on His birthday, not us.  We’ve had it bass ackwards all this time!  It’s only His birthday after all.  How would you like it if people threw a huge party on your birthday only so they could give each other presents right in front of you, but none to you.  “Happy Melvin’s birthday, Sue!  I got you a little something… wanna kiss me under this hanging plant in Melvin’s kitchen?” 

How bad would that suck?  On top of the obvious liability of having a name like Melvin, you have to stand there emasculated while everyone else gets gifts, gets drunk, and (at least one) gets Susan.  And this happens every year.  The final insult after getting your name dropped from the gifting list is hearing more and more people drop your name from the birthday greeting itself every year; “Happy Birthday Holiday, Sue!  Wanna blow me under this plant? (or something more subtle)”

ENOUGH!  We owe Him a gift, and you’re all chipping in.  Got that?  Okay.

Now, what would the Supreme Being want on His birthday?

Peace on earth and goodwill towards men -obvious of course, but wrong.  Let's give the all-knowing a little credit.  You have to figure He knows us better than that by now.  If we've never had a year without armed conflict ever (and we haven't) then we're not going to all wake up tomorrow with a sudden planet wide Amish disposition, and He knows it.  Millennia of experience with us have to make it obvious that change, when and if it comes, comes incrementally.  And those increments come sloooowwwwly.  Beyond that one must factor in our trademark three-steps-forward, two-steps-back approach to progress.  With all that in mind, His wish list is likely a study in lowered expectations.  I can think of three right off the bat that I think He'd appreciate.  Feel free to comment below and suggest more!

GOD'S OWN (not so) OFFICIAL

CHRISTMAS LIST

1. Pieces of the earth show less ill will towards some men (and hopefully some women too).

That's at least within the realm of possibility.  The vague phrasing should help us get started.  I myself will stop letting my dog drop doodie on anybody's lawn, even that IRS auditor from down the block (at least for a while).  Now my piece of the earth is already less ill'n.  See?  It's easy.

2. Less abuse of His name as an expression of anger.

We should find a substitute for "Jesus Effin' Christ!" in times of great pain, e.g. when we catch our scrotum in a zipper or hear a sound byte from Sarah Palin.  The implication of sex on His part is a dubious assumption at best.  He's not Zeus, He doesn't come here to get laid.  The next time we have a scrotal 911 mishap maybe we can try "Effin' Lindsay Lohan!" instead; this at least has a high probability of being true at any given moment anyway.

3. Less jumping to conclusions and assuming the worst of each other.

We all make mistakes at least half of which are honest ones.  Let’s be sure there’s ill intent in another's actions before we take action ourselves. E.g. If somebody you don’t recognize is trying to gain entrance to your house, don’t brain him with a baseball bat right off.  Give him a chance to explain himself.  He might just be a tipsy neighbor coming back from nailing Sue at a party and mistakenly stumbled to the wrong house.  But if he’s dressed head to toe in red with white trim and starts Ho-ho-hoing, lay that bat on him like you’re Mickey freakin’ Mantle.  This whole damn thing is his fault in the first place.

 Merry CHRISTmas to all!

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Oh, and every time you click an ad, a girl named Sue remembers to sober up and avoid mistletoe.

Debut of the Cherubs

Christmas War breaks out in NYC

Atheist Assault !
The American Atheist Assoc, famous for taking ill-advised and unnecessary chances with their eternal souls, have thrown oil on the fire (of their own damnation) with a huge billboard (above) taunting inbound commuters as they approach the Lincoln Tunnel.  Their message proclaims the Nativity story, and by logical extension God himself, to be a myth.  They placed the  billboard on the way into the city to not only give it massive exposure but also perhaps hoping Manhattan itself on the the other side would strengthen their claim.  It would not be the first time the exorbitant prices and ungodly traffic in midtown have caused men to doubt His existence.  $12/beer is indeed a faith-shaking proposition.


Christian Counterattack
Not about to let Christmas be crucified on a four masted 80'x20' ad-cross, a christian group put up their own billboard at the Manhattan end of the Lincoln Tunnel facing those leaving, perhaps in the hope that their message combined with the good experience of departing NYC and entering the 'Garden (of Eden?) State' of New Jersey, with its more reasonable $4 beer, would help some restore their faith.  Clearly they are unfamiliar with downtown Patterson.

It is a stalemate the courts cannot adjudicate.  This 'tussel at the tunnel' is a hearts & minds type struggle that cannot be resolved before any (earthly) judge.  All truth in advertising laws require solid proof that an advertised contention is false before legal action can be justified.  Since neither the faith-based billboard nor the faithless-based billboard meets this standard, the government cannot stand and take action but instead remains seated where it is most comfortable; on its hands.

One cannot help but think a timely public smiting of the 'myth' sponsors would settle the issue nicely.

The Squirreldog and other new creatures

If I were God I'd add a few new creatures to the menagerie.  After dipping my hands into the CreationClay TM (patent pending) I molded my first new critter; the squirreldog, a gotta-have.  He's definately in.  But as a populist diety,  I'd like to hear which of the other proposed new creatures catches your fancy.

Squirreldog

– it’s a dog with the body and climbing ability of a squirrel.  Loyal, smart and easily trained, the squirreldog will guard your house and yard better than a dog ever could.  Intruders are not safe even if they climb a tree or onto your roof.  The squirreldog can climb faster than you can run.  You don’t even have to feed it since it will forage for its own food from neighborhood trees.  This is however a double-edged sword; due to this knack for nuts male owners are advised to wear an athletic cup, even to bed, just in case.

Bearmouse

-have a mouse problem but can’t stand cats? (They are Satan’s minions on earth, as you’re probably aware)  Then you could use a bearmouse.  It’s the size and shape of a large mouse, but with the sensibilities and dining habits of a bear –a bear that hunts mice.  When it eats its food supply down to the last Mickey or Minnie, it does not start foraging in your cupboards like the now-dead mice did.  It hibernates, like a bear.  If more mice move in later, their rodent stink will awake the bearmouse who will descend upon them with a ferocity not seen since the Old Testament (unrated version).

B.O. Bees

-very like the common varieties of bees in that they pollinate flowers and make honey.  This species’ reaction to scents is not restricted to a love of flowers however, but extends to a hate of foul smells.  If a human who hasn’t showered in a while enters the vicinity of even a single B.O. bee it will buzz angrily, attracting the rest of the swarm which will then go after that person like a biblical plague.  If the person makes it safely inside a building or car the bees will wait patiently for a chance to avenge their irritated noses.  The only way he or she can go safely outside again is to bathe, as the scent of soap and shampoo induces a valium-like calm on the swarm who then return to the hive for a honey latte and a nap.

Stoolpidgeon

-ever been out camping when nature calls but you don’t have any toilet paper handy?  No worries.  You can drop your pants and do what you must wherever you happen to be.  The smell will inevitably draw a small flock of nature’s newest avians; the stoolpidgeon.  No, they won’t tell a soul about your outdoor defecation.  But they will come close enough for you to grab them and use them as if they were a balled up wad of TP for a quick wipe.

Moth-in-law

(Not to be mistaken for Mothra-in-law, who famously nagged Tokyo to ruins)

-a wildly unpopular new creature, the moth-in-law is so named for being drawn to the pheromones of married men.  Unlike conventional moths which only leave larva which eat clothes, the moth-in-law actually feeds off male unhappiness, following the unfortunate husband around in order to make harassing comments at his place of work “You call this a job?  No wonder you can’t support the household on your own like a real man.”  Fortunately, the moth-in-law is a slow overweight insect with poor vision, making it a favorite and easy prey for birds.  Many a harried husband has put out bird feeders around the house, car and place of business to draw hungry birds to his vicinity.

Were-plant

-a little known but increasingly popular gift for unpopular bosses and wealthy in-laws.  It appears to be a simple houseplant, but at the rise of the full moon it transforms into the same genus of carnivorous flora as the plant in ‘Little Shop of Horrors’, devouring the first human to come within reach.  Smart gifters of the plant normally wait for the day or two after the last full moon before presenting a were-plant to their supervisors or in-laws.  By the time it were-ifies four weeks later nobody can remember where it came from or who brought it over in the first place.

Cocoacow

-a dark cow that gives chocolate milk instead of white.  Though usually friendly and known to have rhythm, the cocoacow is forseen to be harassed by local authorities; profiled for special attention, pulled over for simply being on cowpaths in the better neightborhoods, and framed for crimes it could never have committed.

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

AIDS: a test of straight souls, Not a punishment for gay ones

AIDS in the world doesn't mean He hates gays

if you thought that then it might be time to reappraise

feline leukemia doesn't mean He hates cats

any more than making bats blind means He hates bats
.
babies can die of cancer, low birth weight, or SIDS

do you hear all that and think that He hates kids?

so if you believe you figured out His divine plan

then you're a nominee for world's dumbest man
.
don't double guess the shepherd on how He tends his sheep

when and why He calls them back is a secret He will keep

maybe He's redoing heaven but doesn't have time to shop

so He needs some good designers to really make it pop
.
maybe it's a test to see who's kind or cruel

who'll be a Mother Theresa, and who will act the fool

if you really knew it all then you'd be sitting in His spot

but of course then you'd be Him, when clearly you are not

Tips for Life (ages 6-10)

A year by year guide of Do’s and Don’ts

6.

DON’T keep clinging to your little electric car.  If you haven’t learned to ride a bike by now you’d better get on it, literally.  And get those training wheels off as soon as you can.  Wear kneepads if you’re scared.  You don’t want to be the only kid in school who can’t ride a bike.

DO resist the urge to make fun of the kid who can’t ride a bike.  That could’ve easily been you.  The crowd will always pick on the weak kid, or the nerdy kid.  But they often make the best, most loyal friends.  You never know which undersized clumsy kid in glasses will be the next Bill Gates.  Not a bad friend to have.

7.

DON’T skip any school trips, especially the zoo, museum, or aquarium.  Forge the permission slip if you have too.   Not only are they fun places to go, there’s an opportunity on the way too;  When they pair you up (so nobody wanders off or falls in the lion pit) position yourself next to that little cutie you like.  You’ll get to hold that soft little hand all day long.

DO try tee-ball.  It’s the easiest sport they have; ball just sits there on a stick.  Being on a school team early is the key to so many things.  But if you suck, it’s best to know it early.  You can start learning guitar or piano, it’ll up your cool.  The opposite sex won’t always seem so icky (if you haven’t grown out of that already.)

8.

DON’T Obsess over your first cell phone.  Yes, it's cool but it's not life.  Life is what happens when you're not staring at a screen.  Except for this screen.   This screen tells you about life; always feel good about coming back to this blog for a good laugh and good advice.  -For which you're welcome, but it wouldn't kill you to click an ad or two while you're here either.  I get paid for that.

DO pay attention to the school lessons on supply and demand.  You'll learn the value of bringing a bag of cookies or chips to share and handing them out with a smile like you’re running for mayor.  If you can supply the goodies, you can demand respect and attention. (just don't come off as desperate)

9.

DON’T be so quick to follow the 'cool' kids.  They're just as dumb as you are.  Sooner or later one of them  will ask you if you know about sexting.  Tell them you do, and it's how you get cooties.  Don't go near them again; they already have cooties.

DO act as cool as you need to in order to fit in, but never believe your own PR.  You're not that hip; you still like knock-knock jokes and you still have skid marks in your underpants.

10.

DON’T laugh so hard in your first sex ed class that you miss the lesson.  You have your whole life to laugh at penis and vagina jokes, they're not going anywhere.  In fact, they'll get funnier when you really understand them.  But for now, pay attention in there.  It's great for staying un-pregnant.

DO enjoy still being a kid.  The internet age is making kids older younger.  That's not a typo.  Think on it.  Enjoy your fast disappearing childhood while you still have it.  Savor the flavor of it; it's like life's own virginity once it's gone, it's gone.

Hope you enjoyed that!  If you did, your share buttons are below.  This blog is still young and small, but you can help it to grow.  Under that is the 'Tips' post for ages 'fetus to five'.

Tips for Life (from fetus to five)

Some Key Do’s and Don’ts

0.

       (Even though you haven’t been born

       yet there’s still a few you could use)

DON’T kick and punch in there like you’re Jackie Chan.  That heavy bag you’re pummeling is your mom and you’re going to need her after this.  A lot.

DO enjoy the hell out of your non-demanding solitude.  You will never.  Ever.  Have it again.

1.

DON’T be colicky if you can at all help it.  If you exhaust your parents too early in the game they won’t have much left in the tank later.  You’re going to need that goodwill during potty training.

DO take your time to get your bearings.  It’s a huge complicated world out there, and most of it doesn’t make sense.  Call it unintelligent design.

2.

DON’T be in such a hurry to start walking.  It will lead to less personal service from your caregivers and more “You can get it yourself.”  That’s a slippery slope, my friend.

DO fling as much food around as you can safely get away with.  There’s only a short time window between learning the throwing motion and when it’s no longer cute, enjoy it.

3.

DON’T keep sticking everything you can into your mouth.  Your improved mobility and climbing will put many non-food items in the house within reach.  Very easy to kill yourself off this way but you’d be missing the best stuff which comes later.  If you must, eat crayons.

DO watch Sesame Street whenever it’s on.  It’s fun, all the other kids do, and you’ll learn a few useful things about life and basic grammar.  You might hear some ugly rumors about Burt and Ernie later on.  Don’t believe any of it, they’re just puppets.  Not meat puppets, just puppets.

4.

DON’T be too eager to show off your smarts so fast.  It could get you put into school early.  This will make your parents oh so proud, but some bigger kid will hit you and take your cookies.  Every day.

DO enjoy the hell out of cartoons.  You’re finally starting to get the cooler ones while you still have time to enjoy them for hours on end.  For now.  School’s right around the corner no matter how much you play dumb.  (No overdoing that either; they'll send you to a different school.  They'll make you wear a helmet.)

5.

DON’T cry like a disgraced evangelist on your first day of school.  Yes, you’ll be the center of attention, but (lesson one) there’s good attention and there’s bad.  See?  Learning’s fun!

DO smile every time the teacher looks at you.  Win her heart.  She’ll claim she likes all her kids the same, but they all have their favorites.  And it’s a sweet, sweet life for the favorites.

Tips for Life ages 6-10 can be seen here.

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

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)

How to get into heaven

(part I of at least II or III -we'll see)

  Just don't be a dick.  Done.  Shortest blog post ever.

  Too bad it's not that easy.  Why?  Because sometimes it can't be helped and so much of it is perspective.
  Let's say you're choosing between would be girlfriends/boyfriends, or job applicants, or older pets on their last day at the kill shelter.  Horrible choice to have to make, Sophie knows.  You're the savior for whomever you pick.  But no matter how fair you try to be about it, to the one(s) you didn't pick you're the dick.
  You can't adopt every pet, hire everyone who needs a job or date every lonely woman.  Believe me, I've tried.  It's expensive and exhausting.  And you don't get even laid as much as you think you should for all that effort, unless of course you use a casting couch as a routine part of the hiring process (or dating process, or adopting process) in which cases you are definately the dick.  And God hates dicks, don't doubt that.

  All of the above may be accidental dickery (except that couch business, of course) which shouldn't be held against you, not if you were in an impossible situation wherein somebody's going to get screwed no matter which way you slice it.  This is the kind of spot in which most people would say "I don't want to play God"  And I have to ask, why not?  Don't be so spineless.  This is your chance to put a little justice in the world and feel good about it.  Embrace the power.  It doesn't happen that often.

  If you're choosing between job applicants and one is more qualified and experienced but the other is a single mom with desperate eyes, who would you choose?  If you're choosing between women to date and one's prettier but stuck-up while the other is plainer but sweet as pie, who would you choose?

  I put these conundrums before a guy I know, let's call him Richard, and asked him to adjudicate.  He had no problem playing God.  "That's easy, and it's the same answer in both cases.  Take the one with the big tits."  Okay, that's just Richard being, well, Richard.  Then he asked if the dating contestants had good jobs "So they can, you know, contribute."  Richard likes to go dutch.  Then he asked if he could meet whichever one I didn't choose, not understanding what 'hypothetical' means.  And he wonders why I won't introduce him to my sister.

  The bottom line is that life is going to hand you a lot of choices that greatly impact other people's lives.  Don't be a dick (if you can help it) or you might find yourself hanging out with a bunch of Richards come rapture time.  Speaking of which...

Next time: 
So how is this Rapture thingy run?  Not like the Blondie song, right?  Is it like the NFL draft?  And if not being a dick is the main criteria, how will it go for those who are kind to dicks, like Paris Hilton?  Do sluts earn a special dispensation for all the individual joy they bring?  I'll tell you what I'd do... If I were God.

Who would Jesus smite?

Honestly, probably nobody.  Way too nice.  -Forgave his own crucifiers!  I on the other hand, would easily have scorched the last jackhole who cut me off on the highway, if only I had a lightning bolt ready.  But not being God (regretably) the only thing I could shoot off was my mouth, like anybody else.  But I really should be more creative with my would-be smitings.  This is what started this particular madness:

I was reading TheBloggess Friday, enjoying a Halloween themed discussion of people's favorite scary books.  Of course Stephen King’s name and iconic work was noted many times, and rightly so.  Seeing everything as I do through the prism of my new favorite toy, this blog, brought me naturally to what I would do if I were God.  I’ll reprint it again here, just so we’re all on the same page. 

…I’d let some of Stephen King’s creations exist in the real world. They’d come in handy in a smite-by-proxy program I’d be testing out. I wouldn’t use it on ordinary people (so don’t worry), only on the exceptionally vile.

For instance, the next time Ann Coulter hailed a cab -Christine would pull up. After she got in she’d notice a clown hat on the driver. That’s right; IT. That’ll teach her to attack the 9-11 widows by saying they enjoyed their husband’s deaths. (In case you didn’t know, Coulter really said that. Ugh)
Scott Peterson (who killed his pregnant wife but got convicted on his ex-girlfriend’s testimony) would probably like a new woman in his life. I’d send Carrie to his cell.
Who else? Michael Vick, dog torturer/killer. Is out of prison and enjoying new fame and wealth in the NFL. He probably needs a new pet. I’d send him Cujo.
Any diety can dispense justice, but how many would do it with a poetic flair?

I think there’s a lot to be said for addition through subtraction.  You see it in football all the time.  Take any team T.O.’s been on, subtract one T.O. and your team and locker room are instantly better.  Wouldn't it work for us too, to weed out the bad seeds?  How'd they get in to begin with?

It makes one wonder, is Halloween how evil sneaks into our world?   Do all those demons, devil, ghouls and goblins incarcerated down in hell try to keep their noses (snouts, hollow horns?) clean for a few months leading up to Halloween, then ask for a weekend pass to come up here for the holiday?  Then once they're here they don't go back; they run for office or start Jersey-based reality shows.  Frankly I'm not sure which does us more damage!  What if the hell/earth border policy is as easy to dodge as our Mexican border policy?  At least the Mexicans pick our fruit for cheap.  What are these hell-scapies up to?  They can't all be running for office or getting punched out in boardwalk bars.  (Can anyone seriously doubt that Snookie is a goblin or gremlin of some sort, thinly disguised only in bronzer and an Annette Funicello wig?  You could argue for dwarf, I suppose, but it would have to be a Gimili son of Gloin/Lord of the Rings type dwarf, not a Dr Ruth sex obsessed dwarf -or do I have that backwards?)

Anyway, wouldn't you like to do something about those 'lil evils that don't report back when their Halloween weekend pass is up?  Whenever we come across one, say at a white supremicist march, Nambla meeting, Tea Party rally... I think a good smiting is in order.  But smiting is a delicate business.  When excising the malignancy one must use the scapel, not the ax.  And not all transgressions are the same.

So let the punishment fit the crime.  If crimes come in various sizes, so must smitings;

Post nasal drip for small, Justin Beiber sized annoyances (don't pretend he's not annoying as shit)

Rectal Warts for medium problems like Sarah Palin and Kanye West (gross yes, but somehow fitting)

Lightning, the old standard, for true evil like Bin Laden, Fritzel, and Dick Cheney (I can almost hear the horses in Young Frankenstein freaking out in the background when the housekeeper's name is spoken)

You should all feel free to weigh in with your smite-worthy nominees and what they should get, or you can click on the poll to the left.

Somehow too many of the smite-worthy are slipping beneath the radar (God-ar, smite-ar?) or maybe He’s just too busy keeping all the glaciers from melting at once to take any action.  But boy o boy would those people get it (all together now)–if I were God.

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.