Earthquakes, Fires, And Trumpet Solos

Download the audio version of today’s Dollop here

Last night I received a message from God. “I’m glad you’ve learnt your lesson,” he/she/it wrote. Well God probably didn’t actually write it himself, he probably just barks instructions to an angel or something. Maybe that’s why the bible is full of odd contradictions and weirdness, because the angel is deaf, what with all the blasting trumpets, constant harp playing, and having the voice of the almighty ringing in your ears all day long. The most famous example of God being too lazy to write was the ten commandments, which Moses wrote on God’s behalf on tablets, by which I mean tablets of stone rather than Ipads, which would have been a lot more impressive and helped convert a lot more people.

“I am the god of Kindle Fire, and I bring you … the ten commandments. Oh, and I’ve also installed the Angry Birds game for you too, for I am a benevolent God. And don’t worry about the killing. I know I said thou shalt not kill, but that doesn’t include virtual fictitious birds killing virtual fictitious pigs. However, if I catch any of you coveting any virtual fictitious oxen, I’ll smite you down. For as well as being a benevolent God, I am also a weird and confusing God.”

At first, I was rather taken aback by what I was reading: an actual message from God. But after a good half an hour of thinking, a thought began to niggle me: how did I know it was really God? Granted, the name of the commenter was God, but doubt was starting to creep into my head. Perhaps it was an imposter. They could have just typed God in the name field.

I was in a bit of a quandary, unsure of how to react. If I replied to this message by challenging the identity of the sender, then if it was God he might fly up in anger and smite me. But if I responded to the message piously and it turned out not to be God, then he’d have me for worshipping false idols, thus breaking one of his commandments. I couldn’t ignore the message and not respond, because as God admits in the ten commandments, “I am a jealous God”, which seems a bit ridiculous really, given that he lists envy as one of the seven deadly sins. So not replying wouldn’t work, as God would see that I was replying to other people and ignoring him, incurring his jealousy.

Then I had an incredibly clever plan. I called my dad and asked him what he thought I should do. Whatever my dad suggested, I would accept implicitly, without question. I figured that this might help protect me against God’s wrath if he saw that I was making an effort to live by his rules, even if I had to break one of them by my response. I’d honoured my father, which I hoped might count in my favour if I upset God by my reply. It’s useful to have points in the bag, just in case.

My dad’s suggestion was to challenge God in order to make sure it was definitely him. I thanked him for his time (I hope you took note of that God) and proceeded to type my response to the message sender who claimed to be God.

I asked the sender to prove that they were really God by telling me what I was about to eat for tea, something which an omnipotent and omnipresent God would have no trouble whatsoever in answering. But no response came. And so I think I’ve proved that the message was in fact sent by an imposter.

So I think I handled that whole situation very well indeed. But then I went and buggered everything up. I couldn’t help myself. I was just taking the rubbish out, when I saw my neighbour’s wife, and before I could stop myself, I started to covet her. I’m extra concerned because my neighbour is a bit of a lazy slob who gets his wife to do all the work around the house, while he just sits on his arse all day. So you could argue that as well as being my neighbour’s wife, she’s also my neighbour’s female servant, which means I’ve broken two commandments in one coveting session. Fortunately, my neighbour’s donkey is really smelly and so there’s no chance of me coveting that, which avoids me scoring a coveting hat-trick. Don’t worry, my neighbour won’t be reading or listening to this, as he’s far too lazy.

Apparently, in order to signify God’s ten commandments being delivered, God brought about a series of earthquakes, sent plumes of smoke into the sky and gave a blast on a trumpet, which seems like a lot of hard work for very little reward. How are people meant to know what the earthquakes, smoke and trumpeting is all about? And what the heck was the point in a trumpet? Most people would be too busy running away from the fire and falling rocks to stop and listen to a trumpet solo, even if it is a trumpet solo from the almighty. Far better for God to have had the foresight to introduce social networking to the planet a few thousand years earlier, which would have also made the tablets a lot more useful.

It also seems a bit rich and stupid to set things ablaze and cause deathly earthquakes as the precursor to instructing people that they shouldn’t kill. I think God could have done with attending a leadership course.

“OK guys, so we’re looking at effective leadership and how best to get your message across to people, and make them want to follow you. So come on guys, stick your ideas key in the engine of potential, start the ignition of innovation as we fly this aeroplane of success into blue sky thinking. Hmm, I like that, I’ll have to write that down; that’s a good one for my book. So come on guys, what do we think? Ideas. Ah, it’s God. What have you got for us God.”

“Stop taking my name in vain.”

“I’m not, I’m just saying your name. So what’s your thoughts.”

“If you want to get your message across, I find the best way is to precede your message with a series of earthquakes, a generous helping of smoke, and a little bit of a blast on the old trumpet.”

“Well, that’s certainly a novel approach God.”

“Stop taking my name in vain.”

“I’m not, I’m just saying your name.”

“You’re saying it far too casually, suggesting a level of vainness.”

“Well, I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you, for I am a forgiving God.”

“Good. Interesting suggestions, but I was thinking more along the lines of having a solid social networking presence. Are you on Twitter or Facebook, God?”

“I am omnipresent, so I am within all Twitter and Facebook accounts.”

“Well, that’s as may be, but do you have a Twitter or Facebook account of your own,God/”

“No, I prefer to communicate through the medium of stone.”

“Stone?! You mean you don’t have a social network presence at all?”

“Well, no. Never saw the point in it myself, when there’s plenty of stone around, and I’ve got the old trusty trumpet. Oh, actually, Mary did get me set up on Bebo.”

“Good god. Right, let’s take a break.”

“You definitely took my name in vain that time.”

Anyway, the good news is that there is no God news, as it was not God who commented on yesterday’s Dollop, meaning that I shall continue with this project. And so I will be back tomorrow for Dollop 49.

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2 thoughts on “Earthquakes, Fires, And Trumpet Solos

  1. “I am the God of kindle fire, and I bring you….the Ten Commandments” nearly made me fall off my chair laughing! Brilliant Dollop!

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