The Lonely Goatherd Blog And before him shall be gathered all nations: and he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats - Matthew 25:32
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September 12, 2002
A message from God God spoke to me today. Her voice was stern and clipped, sounding very much like Ayn Rand- though that may have simply been an affectation for my benefit. Anyway, I was buzzing down the road in my car, and we were chatting amicably. She sent a message for all y'all.
God told me to tell you that the national mourning period for 9-11 is now officially over. From this point, it should be considered history. It has been one full year, and everybody should be getting on with their lives. One point she said you should take from the whole wicked tragedy is that your time here is limited, and should be invested wisely. "Perhaps unnecessary crying and hoo-haaing are not the wisest investments of time I have given you."
This does not mean that the events are to be forgotten, or forgiven too easily. She said that eye for an eye stuff was still good. "It might behoove you to pay a little better attention to your surroundings." She further pontificated (well, she has a right) that we all need to quit indulging ourselves in the fantasy that the world is a safe, cushy place. She said that we need to use the brains She gave us.
"Using that brain," she elaborated, "should lead you to the conclusion that it doesn't serve Me or you either one for you to indulge in unnecessary dramatics over bad things like 9-11. Bury your dead and move on."
I'm not entirely comfortable with this, though. People are hurting. I want to ameliorate pain. Please, Ayn, uh, God, uh, ma'am- don't you have compassion for their suffering?
"Yeah, yeah," She answered. "I feel your damned pain. Frankly, however, I'm tired of hearing about it. Much of your pain now bores me. As I look into your grieving hearts, I see self-indulgence. You got off with only three thousand dead out of a nation of 300 million. That figures out to only about one out of every hundred thousand. To 99% of Americans, this was largely an event on television; you didn't actually know any of these people. Quit milking it for something to feel bad about like a bunch of teenage girls."
God, uh, ma'am, you're being awful tough. I said this with my head hung low, and my eyes cast down in shame. To myself, I'm thinking, geez what a bitch. "I heard that." She said. Oh yeah, omniscient. Means a man can't get any damned privacy. "Tempt me a little bit more, hillbilly boy, and I'll whup a mojo on your dumb ass." I saw the error of my ways and repented profusely.
But back to the issue at hand, though- me representing America before God. I tried to emphasize all the vast numbers of people suffering. Okay, maybe some folk have carried on a bit much, but what about all the thousands killed, and their families and co-workers?
She softened her heart...a little. "Alright, I'll still hear anguished prayers from immediate families of the 9-11 victims, and their co-workers. The rest of y'all can give it a rest, though."
I dared not cross her. That's the best deal She'd give. Furthermore, She suggested specifically that the dental assisstant in Wichita who gets the willies every time she sees a guy with a beard, figuring bin Laden has personally come to her town- she needs to get over herself. Also, the bar bouncer in Billings, Montana should can the outrage at the treatment of women in the Arab world. She knows you're doing that just to get laid. Needless to say, She's not amused.
Also, she suggested that we might express some gratitude to Her for having staid the illiterate hands in Florida two years ago that almost gave us Al Gore to be in charge during this national test. "What kind of bunch of idiots are you people, anyway?" I responded- not under duress- that we are foolish and don't deserve a good God like Her. "Please don't hurt me." I pleaded.
"Shut the hell up" She demanded.
Up I shut.
Finally, she was very clear that "If you hear anybody presuming to speak for me other than Al Barger, you should beat them up."
Then Her presence vanished, and I was left with Macy Gray on the radio: "c'mon and gimme all your lovin' or i will kill you put one right through your head gimme all your lovin' or i will kill you and cry when you're dead"