God Exists!
This just in:
A man purchased a Mexican day-of-the-dead mask from a garden sculpture shop and wanted to hang it on the wall of his garage, where it could be enjoyed from the patio while he and his family repasted on their usual repasts. Here is his story.
"I couldn't believe it!" he said. "Every time I tried to drive a nail into the garage wall, the nail bent! I must have gone through, gosh, two boxes of big nails, and after hitting them with the hammer just once, even, they bent. It's like that story in the Bible, you know, where Dagon falls on his face before the power of God. God did not want me to hang that devil-worshipping mask, and He showed his displeasure by bending my nails. I wanted to hang that devil above the headless statue of St. Andrew, see, to kind of balance things out--a little of the sacred, a little of the profane--but, God does not like jokes! I was standing on a ladder at first, and after about thirty nails, I thought I'd better get off the ladder--if God was causing those nails to bend, he could cause me to fall, and I could fall right onto that headless statue and injure myself in the you-know-wheres, and that would be a blasphemy to the statue. I mean, St. Andrew--the statue doesn't have a head, see--wouldn't be able to defend himself, and I would be desecrating him by God punishing me with a nasty jab in the you-know-wheres with St. Andrew's neck and shoulders. And St. Andrew is holding a baby child--that gets to be almost pedophilia if my you-know-whats fall on that baby child's head. And he looks so innocent."
But what did you finally do with the day-of-the-dead mask?
"Well, that's the weird thing. I was afraid if I hung it out there in front of God and everybody, the garage might get struck by lightning or something--doesn't stone attract electricity? I think I read that somewhere. God protected me by putting that article in front of me. Or I saw it on the internet, or something. But God didn't mind if I hung the mask in the bathroom so we can look at it while we take showers."
But won't you be punished there too? I would think God's idea is that you shouldn't hang such a thing anywhere at all. And you should probably find some kind of head to put on the St. Andrew statue.
"Well, so far nothing's happened in the bathroom. I mean, I seem to drop the soap more often, and it gets smushed on the side that way. Maybe that's a warning--I have to bend down to pick it up, you know, and if I ever have to go to prison . . . . And the bathroom mirror broke, and I stubbed my toe on the base of the toilet, and my wife's contact lens dropped into the drain, and God can make those things happen. But things like that always happen in the bathroom. Like n the kitchen when a spoon gets stuck in the garbage disposal. Those are the normal ways God messes with us. That's the price we pay for Eve's sin! (Adam was helpless there.) But, look, don't get me confused: I think my point is that I want everyone to know that God exists! God tempted me by suggesting that I hang that mask on the garage wall, and then when I did it, He let me know what he thinks of that idea. It's just like if he tempts you to go through a stoplight, and you do it, and your car gets totalled--see, you knew you shouldn't do it! God is Holy, God is Just. Or he tempts you to be a mono . . uh . . homosexual, and you do it. And you enjoy it, and you live a happy, satsifying life because you can be honest and straightforward about who you are. See, that's your punishment. Or having sex with your significant other--be it male, female, or consenting adult pet. And you enjoy it. See!
God bless!"
A man purchased a Mexican day-of-the-dead mask from a garden sculpture shop and wanted to hang it on the wall of his garage, where it could be enjoyed from the patio while he and his family repasted on their usual repasts. Here is his story.
"I couldn't believe it!" he said. "Every time I tried to drive a nail into the garage wall, the nail bent! I must have gone through, gosh, two boxes of big nails, and after hitting them with the hammer just once, even, they bent. It's like that story in the Bible, you know, where Dagon falls on his face before the power of God. God did not want me to hang that devil-worshipping mask, and He showed his displeasure by bending my nails. I wanted to hang that devil above the headless statue of St. Andrew, see, to kind of balance things out--a little of the sacred, a little of the profane--but, God does not like jokes! I was standing on a ladder at first, and after about thirty nails, I thought I'd better get off the ladder--if God was causing those nails to bend, he could cause me to fall, and I could fall right onto that headless statue and injure myself in the you-know-wheres, and that would be a blasphemy to the statue. I mean, St. Andrew--the statue doesn't have a head, see--wouldn't be able to defend himself, and I would be desecrating him by God punishing me with a nasty jab in the you-know-wheres with St. Andrew's neck and shoulders. And St. Andrew is holding a baby child--that gets to be almost pedophilia if my you-know-whats fall on that baby child's head. And he looks so innocent."
But what did you finally do with the day-of-the-dead mask?
"Well, that's the weird thing. I was afraid if I hung it out there in front of God and everybody, the garage might get struck by lightning or something--doesn't stone attract electricity? I think I read that somewhere. God protected me by putting that article in front of me. Or I saw it on the internet, or something. But God didn't mind if I hung the mask in the bathroom so we can look at it while we take showers."
But won't you be punished there too? I would think God's idea is that you shouldn't hang such a thing anywhere at all. And you should probably find some kind of head to put on the St. Andrew statue.
"Well, so far nothing's happened in the bathroom. I mean, I seem to drop the soap more often, and it gets smushed on the side that way. Maybe that's a warning--I have to bend down to pick it up, you know, and if I ever have to go to prison . . . . And the bathroom mirror broke, and I stubbed my toe on the base of the toilet, and my wife's contact lens dropped into the drain, and God can make those things happen. But things like that always happen in the bathroom. Like n the kitchen when a spoon gets stuck in the garbage disposal. Those are the normal ways God messes with us. That's the price we pay for Eve's sin! (Adam was helpless there.) But, look, don't get me confused: I think my point is that I want everyone to know that God exists! God tempted me by suggesting that I hang that mask on the garage wall, and then when I did it, He let me know what he thinks of that idea. It's just like if he tempts you to go through a stoplight, and you do it, and your car gets totalled--see, you knew you shouldn't do it! God is Holy, God is Just. Or he tempts you to be a mono . . uh . . homosexual, and you do it. And you enjoy it, and you live a happy, satsifying life because you can be honest and straightforward about who you are. See, that's your punishment. Or having sex with your significant other--be it male, female, or consenting adult pet. And you enjoy it. See!
God bless!"
posted by Vibistry at 7:56 AM
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