A couple, three times a year Tootsie and I invite Josie, FDD Spuds and Ursa Sucrosum down to the hinterlands of Rhode Island for dinner, a card game, maybe some pool, and generally a bunch of laughs. Tonight was one of those nights. Tootsie made a London Broil that was etherally yummy, the coffee had been drunk, U. Sucrosum was asleep on the couch, Toots and FDD Spuds were upstairs chatting and Jo and I were downstairs disgracing the great game of pool.
The conversation turned to our respective blogs, and those stories in which I imagine a conversation with God, which Josie doesn't really like.
"Here's what I don't understand," she said, sizing up her shot. "You're an unabashed atheist. Your stated religion on Facebook is Atheist. You treat the religious with that smug contempt that makes me want to strangle you. So why do you talk to God?"
I thought for a while.
"Maybe I like it," I answered slowly. "Sure, it's literary symbolism, but who's to say that it's not comforting, cathartic, and illuminative? When you get to pose a question so directly you can really think about the answer."
"OK," she said in a lilting, singsong way that indicated she thought I was full of shit.
"Seriously," I said. "It all comes from between the ears."
We were both startled by a cough and the thinly-disguised word "bullshit" from the corner, where the cue stand stood.
Of course, it was The Lord. Why wouldn't it be? As always, He was impeccably dressed, this time wearing an Oxford shirt with an argyle sweater, the shirttail sticking out just enough to be devastatingly fashion-forward.
"Who's your friend?" He purred, looking at - actually, leering at - Josie.
"Oh, sorry. Um, God, this is..."
"I know who she is," He said. "God, remember? Hello Josie."
Josie, a lifelong Catholic, dropped to her knees.
"Get up, get up, this isn't church."
Josie regained her feet and looked God right in the eye.
"God, what's Your deal?" she said, with customary brusqueness. "Are You really just in Gary's head, or what? Are You out there, and real? And why haven't I won a big tournament yet?"
God smirked.
"Sorry, my child," He said, and drew an imaginary zipper across His mouth. "I run on faith. Proof denies faith. No straight answers from Me, but do you not believe your own eyes?"
"Not often," she said, after a pause.
"Well, I'm here to tell you that whatever fountains of genius flow from the hirsute pate of THIS guy..." - here He cocked His head in my direction - "...he can try to take as much credit as he wants to, but it all comes from Me."
"Well I for one believe," Josie said softly. "I'm a woman of faith and if it's faith You need, You got it. There's only one thing I could ever ask of You in return."
"And what is that, child?"
"I'm in this game, Survivor, Donkey Island, see..."
"I know," saith The Lord. "That was a REALLY long game between Boat and Brain, wasn't it?"
"You...You rail the Donkey Island games?" she asked incredulously.
"Not exactly," He said. "More like just, you know, omniscient. Anyway, what about it?"
"Who wins?" she asked, eyes, brightening. She raised her fists in the air, closed her eyes tight and said "ooooooohhh, please please PLEASE let it be me!"
"Josie, do you know anything about quantum mathematics?"
"Oh God, You DO come from Gary's boring-ass brain," she said, eyes rolling. "No, not really."
"Ignoring that," continued God, "There's this issue with tiny particles: you can't know simultaneously a particle's exact position in space and its speed and direction. Because, among other reasons, the act of observing a particle disturbs it. In other words, if I were to tell you, it would alter the trajectory of the game."
"OK," she said, in that same lilting singsong that accused the Lord of bullshittery.
"For real," said the Lord. "No fake."
"Well, ok..." she said with unveiled disappointment.
"Sorry," said God. "But tell me this: Who's this NumbBono character, and why does everybody still vote for him?"
You know me a little too well. :) Funny shit my friend.
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