God: The Baking Soda of Deities

God Tries to Start His Car Without Benefit of His Keys

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Dear God,

I don't usually write you but today Slappy went to his mom's place so I have a few extra minutes to pay tribute to you, and to praise you for being as useful as Baking Soda. When you get right down to it, you are the Baking Soda of Deities.

I want you to understand, and it paineth me to thinketh you might not, that this is the highest praise my church bestows upon a Sky Lord, just above "God as a Can of WD-40" which, while having many uses, does not have the immediacy of personal satisfaction that Baking Soda holds for us, we who are your animated inventions. You have talent, I'll grant you that--no, wait, you do all the granting. I'll just notice it and write some dumb ass thing about it. See: I just did.

I don't want to bore you--that would suck if I did want to bore you--anyway, I don't want to bore you so please don't fixate on that whole "want to bore you" meme. I pray you let it go. But lest I bore you, which I really, really don't want to do, may I, like that pansy poet of Poxie Olde England, compare you not to a Summer's Day but to a box of Baking Soda, the Greatest Proof of your existence in this doubting and sometimes rather boring world. I pray you will not yawn as I continue along this theme. Drink some coffee if staying awake is that fucking difficult. Wiggle your nose and manifest a cup of the black brew--Heaven Forbid you get off your ass and go to Starbucks and stand in line like the rest of us schmucks..."Oh, look, it's God standing in line, and he's all drowsy-like, isn't that cute? Goddsy-wodsy needs more sleepsy-weepsy..." But I digress. I come not to slander God but to praise Him--if you are a Him--I mean, you could be a she-he, or tranny or whatever, but I assure you I come to praise you. And maybe to bore you. You'd like that, wouldn't you--you seek boredom out! Man, you piss me off. People who bore easily are so arrogant: Gods, no different. No difference at all. Now just suck it up and follow me:

Baking Soda has a thousand uses, just like a God (perking up any?)! You can bake with it, clean the sink with it, brush your teeth with it, make a bicarbonate with it, remove odors in the refrigerator with it: in short, it has more uses than most people do! And here's where you, God (wake the fuck up!), come in: you are indeed the Baking Soda of Deities. Yes, I know I wrote that before...don't nod off. I am going to be so pissed if you nod off. Anyway, you, God, can be used for a variety of things as well: when I want you to be loving I invoke your boundless Grace and Mercy, when I want you to keep the public at heel I conjure up images of your wrath and lo, they are made to heel.

I can use you to bless invasions, births, crops, marriages, divorces, and to stand solemnly by for funerals: literal and political. You do Bar Mitzvahs & Bat Mitzvahs and whatever that Catholic thing is when you are old enough to get boners, you bless ships being launched and every other use you can imagine! You help me with a curve ball when it is not biting, you leadeth me to parking spots, and surround my family in a field of protection until they all get old and die anyway. In short, you are the Baking Soda of Deities! And I wanted to let you know, before you pass out like some doddering old codger, that I dig all that you can do. Except the nodding off part. That's just plain weak.

Now if you will kindly get on my toothbrush I can get on with my day. Hurry up!--unlike you I haven't got eternity.

Yours in America,

Mortaljivester

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p.s. On second thought, I like the Willow God more than I like you, but that's because she's naked and helps with water babies.

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