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Open letter to the Director, Department of Intelligent Design

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Dear Sir,

It is my belief that, the prototype having been in production for some 6,000 years, some issues might be addressed which have come to my attention.

First, although it may have seemed a good idea at the time, it is increasingly clear that it was a mistake to make the universe seem so much older than it really is.  I was not present at the meeting when this was discussed, so I cannot say what the purpose may have been.  There has been talk of some sort of test to be administered to a transient species near the end of the process, but it now seems rather a lot of trouble to have gone to, for what could only have been some sort of joke.

Second, I thought it had been agreed that the order and harmony principles behind the design would obviate any further tinkering down the line.  It now seems that suspension of the rules which govern things is so frequently required that there is even a name for it: “miracle.”  I don’t suppose it occurred to whomever authorized the first miracle that it would set off a chain of events requiring more and more of them as more time went by.  Can you say butterfly effect?  I understand it has even gotten to the point where sporting events can no longer be decided without intervention.

Third, biology.  I don’t know where to start.  Who was in charge of biology?  I mean, it started out fine, lots of diversity there, plenty of fun, but did somebody go on vacation, or what?  I get a column with four protrusions.  Nice symmetry, good locomotor possibilities, sound basic engineering.  But why stand it up?  Do that, and the load structure goes all wrong, you get joint issues, and the column goes all to hell.  ME 101.  Hell, might as well just have evolution if we’re going to be that sloppy.  And don’t even get me started on bacteria; they’ve got security issues you could push a planet through.  We need a change of leadership there, for sure.

Fourth, and in my opinion, most disturbing, we seem to have pushed all our error down into the nano level.  I completely see the reasoning behind this: sweep it under the great cosmic rug, and hope nobody trips over it.  But they will, you can count on it.  Already, people have found out that we’ve got stuff popping in and out of existence down there all the time to keep things in balance, and they’ve been poking around anti-this and dark-that for years.  It’s only a matter of time.  (Sorry, couldn’t resist)

I don’t mean to be an alarmist, but I hope there is still time to address these issues.  I know, we can always create more time if we run out, but is that really the right way to run things?

With all due respect,

God, Sr. (Retired)

Fool me, fool you

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People say they don’t suffer fools gladly.  Nonsense.  I have seen fools afforded undivided attention, encouraged, even applauded, by people who knew perfectly well what foolishness was being perpetrated.  It’s contradiction they don’t suffer gladly.

I understand completely.  Nobody likes to be corrected publicly; it makes us feel like the fools we’re not supposed to … suffer. (I think we like that word because it carries implications of discomfort with idiocy to the point of physical pain.)  In any case, if we, the contradictees, suspect the contradictor is right, that just makes things all the worse.

But it’s the usual response to this most understandable of embarrassments that I object to.  Lately, and most certainly online, that tends to be character assassination.  It goes well beyond mere ad hominem and into the realm of vendetta.  I suppose this is not surprising, given the convergence of extreme-ness as the ultimate cultural value, and the mask, if not the anonymity, afforded by electronic communications.

What do I do in such circumstances, then?

First of all, let me assure you of my qualifications in this arena.  I have been contradicted many times, both publicly and privately.  The clear majority of those times, I was wrong.  So I approach this with considerable experience; it is not just a theoretical exercise for me.

When someone points out a fatal flaw in a disquisition I have been presenting with the air of inevitability, I respond by first holding my breath and staring at that person.  Then I roll my eyes, subtly change the subject, and point out that the objection lacks any validity whatsoever against the new subject.  If the person then has the temerity to point out that I have changed the subject, I throw up my hands, mutter, and leave the room.  After a suitable period, (no less than an hour is generally recommended) I can bring up the topic again, with a thoughtful air, as if I had arrived at the correct conclusion, not all by myself, for that would be dishonest, but in friendly collaboration.

This is the method recommended by most experts today, although it used to be second nature to the well-educated.  Here’s an example:

A highly distinguished professor was presenting a lecture on the identity of the architect responsible for a famous sanctuary in the ancient Hellenistic world.  This had been a topic of controversy for generations, and the professor had devoted much of his later career to resolving the issue, using methods from a variety of disciplines.  He attacked it from all angles, considered every point; it was an interdisciplinary tour de force.  He carefully laid out the elements of the puzzle, piece by piece, leading up to the culminating statement of his presentation, “I can now reveal to you, without a trace of a doubt, that the man responsible for this sanctuary was none other than  ____!”

A slow murmur of admiration, a gasp almost, began at one corner of the room and worked its way toward the other.  A stirring, a hand clap, then another, the beginnings of applause as the implications sank in.

Suddenly, a perplexed looking student rose, and said, “But, wasn’t ____ in Alexandria at the time?”

Dead silence.  The gasps and murmurs, now mixed with confusion, retreated along the same paths by which they had come.  The distinguished professor said nothing, but simply looked at the student, expressionless, until the audience began to drift off.

Now that‘s class.

Explaining the Holy Trinity

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Okay, so, God himself  is male, although there doesn’t seem to be a Mrs. God, or even any Girlfriends.  All the same, he has a son, Jesus, who, in spite of his name, is not Hispanic, but Jewish.  The reason for this is that his mother was Jewish, and as we know, descent is reckoned matrilineally in that tradition.

Why his mother was Jewish is rather complicated, but it all goes back to the fact that there aren’t any Goddesses.  There used to be, of course, along with dozens of other Gods, but that was before all the Mergers.  A lack of Planning, no doubt.  At any rate, God needed a son, apparently.  This was because the original people, by finding out the Big Secret, had annoyed him to the point that the only way to fix things was for him to have a son and have people kill him.  It’s not clear who made that rule; you would have thought that would only have annoyed him even more.  But never mind, that was the rule, and there was no squirming out of it.

So there’s God, needing a son, and no obvious way to get one.  Except, of course, being God, he could have just created one on the spot.  Or he could have just said, “Forget it, that Adam and Eve thing was so long ago, who even remembers?”  But of course there was the rule.  Maybe God has a Mom we don’t know about?

But I digress.  What to do?  Well, humans had beaucoup females.  A bit kinky, but well within divine tradition, and after all, the whole issue was their fault.  Of course, she would have to be a virgin.  I mean.  And it would be way cool if she could stay a virgin through the whole thing.

God was living in the Levant in those days, and found a suitable girl, Mary, in no time.  The permanent virgin thing was trickier.  Enter the Holy Ghost.

I’m not saying that all of the above has been a paragon of clarity, but this is where things get a bit fuzzy.  See,  in spite of being the Holy Ghost, he’s not a former Holy Live Person, as you might expect.  To complicate things even more, it’s not clear exactly what he is.  I say he, but even that’s not clear.  Sometimes he’s a dove, sometimes, especially when he’s making religious people spout gibberish, he’s, like, fire.  Not like a house fire, more like a little Bic fire, sprouting from their heads.  With regard to the whole Mary thing, you often see him in paintings as a dove, but I’m going with the Bic; more consistent with permanent virgincy, don’t you think?

So.  That’s your Holy Trinity: God, Jesus, and the Holy Ghost.  Mary doesn’t count, as she’s a she, and everybody agrees nowadays that persons of that persuasion don’t have sufficient gravitas.  They have obviously not met any nuns.  Ditto for the possible Holy Mom.  This may leave you wondering, who is Jesus’ real Dad, God or the Holy Ghost?  It also brings up the whole issue of the Holy Ghost’s rank, so to speak.  Is he a Brother, an Uncle, a Pet?  Or if they are all the same person, as people claim, how does that make any sense?  As it happens, I have had the privilege of twelve years of Roman Catholic education, from kindergarten through high school, under the tutelage of first the fine Sisters of Providence, and then the Franciscans.  I am highly qualified to give you the best answer from the highest authority.

It’s a mystery.  Shut up.

A letter to the Director

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To Mr. Benjamin Flitworthy, Director

Dear Mr. Flitworthy

I find your proposal to be ludicrous to the point of madness.  It causes me, indeed, to question your sincerity in pursuing this transaction.  To my knowledge, it has never been observed, nor yet postulated, that, as you suggested, pigs might fly.

Yours, Sir Nigel Blagh