Friday, 1 May 2009

The Futility of Prayers: Dialogue Between Jebus & St Michael

Prayers: With a approximately 6 billion humans or more on this planet, and more than a billion of them lovers of Jebus, it is quite mind-boggling to imagine how Jebus and his heavenly motley crew deals with the daily avalanche of prayers sent every god-damned single day. With millions of teary-eyed followers praying for all manner of divine intervention, sorting out prayers in accordance to urgency, priority and other standards becomes an insanely herculean task, pretty much like sorting out mails in a typical postal office.

From the starry-eyed teenager eying for a piece of Hollywood stardom to the hormone-driven stud hankering after a beautiful brunette next door, prayers are, by and large, mundane; others are more basic and rank low on the Maslow's hierarchy of needs. A boy who is malnourished and starving may be praying for a bowl of rice, while a thirsty peasant could be praying for rain in the parched deserts of Africa.

The question everyone should be asking at this point is: How does God, or the triumvirate of God-heads (Father, Son and Holy Ghost), set about answering prayers? We shall find out, in a moment.

(Scene: Its an ordinary day in heaven: Jebus struts along, with his gay-looking, thigh-length robe revealing his sexy legs, and whistles a light tune, humming along at various intervals, as he makes his way to the prayer department. Today, St Michael has his hands full: It is his duty this week, and his job, like the rest of the archangels, involves sorting out prayers from the mortal world with his own angelic crew.

Every single prayer uttered by Jebus lovers across the globe is magically transmuted into written prayer cards, which are then sorted out by befuddled angels who are swamped and inundated with millions of prayers every day. The myriad of prayers are as diverse as they come: Getting good results in schools, fucking the hot brunette next door, winning the next soccer game, and so on and so forth. After the prayers are sorted out, one of the three God heads will take turns to answer these prayers, which, sad to say, hardly ever happens, unless, of course, it involves slapping your opponent on the other cheek, or killing your neighbor's pet chihuahua........)

Jebus(Walks into Prayer Department): Hi, Mikey, its your turn for the prayer mail, isn't it, mate?

St Michael: Yes, my Lord.

Jebus: Alright, then (Turns towards the tons of prayer mails accumulating in a huge cage being sorted out by St Michael's angels). Boy, so many god-damned prayers. These bloody mortals!!!

St Michael: Yes, my Lord. My lads and I have been trying to sort them out for your perusal. Its a heck of a long list, and at this point we have something like 23 million, 523 thousand, 754 prayers on the list.

Jebus: That is for........?

St Michael: Today, my Lord.

Jebus (Throws hands up, goes absolutely bananas): Holy mother of Christ! What are these mortals thinking?

St Michael: I am sorry, my Lord, we are a bit short handed here. Perhaps you can help us here with the first batch of prayer lists.

Jebus (Sullen mood now): Alright alright, Mikey. These fucking imbecilical mortals have really spoilt my mood for the day.

St Michael: My Lord, here's the first prayer bag for the first shift. (Sticks hand into bag, grabs a handful of prayer cards) My Lord......

Jebus: Alright then, read the first prayer card to me.

St Michael: Yes, my Lord. This one is a from ten yr old kid, my Lord. Name's Ken, and he is praying to score good results for his term papers.

Jebus (Rolls eyes): Fuck that, good results my ass. When I was mortal in Nazareth, I wasn't even educated! Neither were my disciples. Pass my orders. Make sure he fails his term papers.

St Michael (Sighs): Thy will be done, my Lord. (Chucks away Ken's prayer card in a "condemned" bag, reads out new prayer card) The next one is from a pious monk from Sicily, Italy. Apparently he's been caught in some legal quagmire, my Lord. He's been molesting boys since he entered priesthood fifty years ago. Apparently some atheist legal group has gotten wind on his somewhat nefarious ways, my Lord, and are planning to sue him.....

Jebus (Snorts, interrupts angrily): Nefarious? What do you know, Mikey? Altar boys asses are such fine porcelains. Give that monk a break, damn those fucking atheists! I will personally smite their heathen asses with thy sword! Answer the prayer, St Michael: All the juries, lawyers and judges responsible for the persecution of this monk shall be smite to death by lightning And don't forget the fucking atheists! They deserve to die for not believing in my divinity!!!

St Michael: Thy will be done (Throws prayer card into "Prayer Answered" bag). Next prayer, my Lord: This woman is from Ethiopia. Apparently her town has been unduly punished by a year of severe drought: Nothing ever grows there, my lord, not even cactus, and she has lost 5 of her children out of her brood of ten. And the conditions are getting worst by the day, with the warlords coming in and grabbing what little they could rob and pillage.

Jebus (Laughs, gesticulates like a madman on Drugs): War! Pillage! Murder! Death! What are these fucking mortals complaining about? Killing five of her children is nothing, Michael! We of the Godfather clan, kill millions and millions of people every god-damn year! Five kids? She's lucky to have five less kids to feed! Damn ungrateful sods! Pass down my orders: I want her whole family killed, gutted and have their rotten corpses fed to the dogs! That's their penalty for being ungrateful ingrates!

St Michael: But, my Lord.....!

Jebus: Stop dilly dallying, Mikey, I haven't got time to waste! I have a food and sex orgy to attend to with my angelic cohorts!

St Michael: Alright, my Lord (Throws Prayer Card to "Condemned" Bag) This one is from a male stud from England. He prays everyday to fuck his brunette classmate. She's hot, sexy, and very much delectable, if you know what I mean.....

Jebus: Castrate him.

St Michael: What!?

Jebus: Fuck him, I say. Curse the guy with testicular cancer. He wants to have sex with that horny male stud, fine with me, but if he wishes to screw that dumb bitch with my blessings, he'd better be gay. Otherwise, be prepared to suffer the consequences of my wrath!

St Michael: Yes, my Lord, thy will be done.........

(& so the dreary and insipid day continues, with the majority of pious folks having their prayers unanswered, and a vast majority being punished for imposing themselves upon the divine tyrants in Paradise. Moral of the story? Stop Praying, unless you need to pray for murder, avarice, bloodshed, pedophilia and to top it all, gay sex.)