Saturday, March 25, 2017

Oh God - Part Ten

Oh God – Part Ten
“Basically,” said God in a friendly manner, “one of the reasons I invited you into the family was over communication. It’s a very important function of humanity as you see here. I mean. How wonderful has it been to have you among us at our dinner table? We talked and joked and had a wonderful time, didn’t we?”
“I’ve got to admit, that’s true,” said Schwartz, still somewhat hesitant. “I feel totally at home an’ welcome here. I don’t even mind that old lady that keeps barkin’ at us if we cuss a little. Where’d you get her from anyways?”
“She’s kind of an accident like you are to Satan,” smiled God. “Its her ornery husband that keeps passin’ up an’ down between here an’ there ‘cause nobody wants him around to make trouble. So, she stays here an’ keeps Mary company.
“Actually, that leads me to the topic I wanted to discuss – language.” Said God. “It’s language that has lead humans into trouble every time. They’re either inventin’ new words an’ givin’ them new meanings, or sayin’ them in such a way as to mean somethin’ else. It’s an endless litany of excuses they use to justify the words they say an it’s drivin’ me nuts! My original idea was the best one. When the world was new, every one understood the other, yet there wasn’t a sound made. It was so quiet an’ peaceful then. A family could gather around the diner table an’ communicate in complete silence. Even the animals that came around signalled their needs with their body language an’ the humans all understood. It was so peaceful an’ quiet then when every body lived in harmony.”
“Well so how did the people learn to make noise an’ speak?” Schwartz wanted to know.

Saturday, March 18, 2017

Oh God = Part Nine

Oh God - Part Nine
“Did ya ever hear of a place called Purgatory” asked God, half joking.
“That’s a hotel ain’t it? It’s a place where you can sleep quietly for as long as ya want an’ nobody will bother ya. Sounds like a good spot after a busy life.”
“That’s only a temporary respite. After all, my souls need a good nap after havin’ lived their lives, before I judge their performance while they were on earth.”
“WHAT? Are you kiddin’ me? YOU get to judge them all?” The total shock of this caused Schwartz’ outburst.
“I do.”
“What does Satan have to say about that?”
God smiled knowingly. “There’s not much he can say is there? After all, I’m the one who created heaven and earth. Oh, he does a lot of screamin’ an’ yellin’ but really, it amounts to a hill o’ beans. He just does that to be a thorn in my side.”
“Holy crap!” Schwartz exploded. “That’s not what he said to me!” He was waiting for the voice in the kitchen but she obviously didn’t hear him or that didn’t count as a cuss word because it never came. Well, the news was out now – no question. Schwartz had got so excited that he just blurted out that he was an agent of the devil, so he figured the jig was up now.
Quite the contrary, God smiled warmly and told him how happy he was to have Schwartz in the family. It gave them the opportunity to get to know one another more intimately and air each other’s concerns.  

“You first,” said Schwartz, anxious to find what direction this was goin’ before commitin’ hisself.

Saturday, March 11, 2017

Oh God - Part Eight

Oh God - Part Eight
Dinner proceeded jovially enough with casual conversation between mouthfuls. To all intents and purposes, it was a friendly family dinner. Well, except I noticed that Schwartz was a little more than uneasy. I knew he recognized the voice from the kitchen and that was cause for concern for him. That was the wife of old Nard Harks who was swinging between Hell an’ here like a yoyo because nobody wanted to deal with him. I was reluctantly feelin’ a little easier havin’ her on my team for once. If nothing else, she was bringing civility to the conversation. It was a perfect segue into my intended talk.
“If we aren’t goin’ to be civil in our language up here, how is anyone in the real world down there goin to learn civility?” I wanted to know. “Don’t you practice it down there in hell?”
“Oh, hell no,” was the reply.
“I heard that!” said the alto voice.
“Down there we say whatever we want, however it comes out. It’s called free speech. It’s everyone’s right!”
“That’s an interestin’ concept. Doesn’t that lead to hateful attitudes and conflict?”
“Of course, it does! That’s the whole idea! Let the offended parties defend themselves. Whoever is strongest will survive.” Schwartz was feeling confident now. He was makin’ some pretty good points in his (the devil’s) arguments. “It’d been like that ever since there was enough people around to be livin’ apart from one another. Not only that, but it was good business for hell, we was crankin’ them in like nobody’s business. It’s sort of like natural evolution, you know - survival of the fittest.” Schwartz realized too late that he’d overplayed his hand.
“Do the math,” said God, ignoring Schwartz’ mistake. “You’ll find it’s counter productive.”
“How so?” Schwartz wanted to know.
“Instead of supportin’ one another in their quest, they’re competin’ until there is only one left standin’.” Said God. “How’re ya gonna keep the population goin’ with only one person left? Ha - that reminds me of a human joke that wouldn’t be civil to repeat here.”

“Yeah, I know that one. I’m the one who made it up.”

Saturday, March 4, 2017

Oh God - Part Seven

Part Seven
Oh, don’t kid yourself, there will be a final disaster, and it won’t be a kind one neither, or one that anybody can survive. But I’m not tellin’ what it is just yet ‘cause I ain’t gonna’ be the one to bring it about. One lousy slip up on my part an’ the whole business goes to hell in a handbasket - literally. It seems the “them” of ‘us an’ them’ have allowed their greed to get the best o’ them an’ now there’s an “Us an’ them” within the “Them” department fightin’ for supremacy. It’s a tussle between oil an’ money. Well, ya can’t drink oil an’ ya can’t eat money as they’ll find out sooner or later. Before ya know it, these ‘us an’ thems’ will split again until they’re all standin’ as individuals – isolated and alone. It’ll take ‘em a while to realize that but by then it’ll be too late. Well I suppose I’m alludin’ to where all this is gonna end, but suffice it to say it will surely come up for discussion at the next dinner meetin’.
Dinner was exceptionally tasty this time, delicious and fillin’, and the mood was no less exuberant. Schwartz, who I knew had been anticipatin’ this dinner so he could argue his points durin’ the discussion, had come a little early in anticipation of this “family” dinner.
“HOLY SHIT!” he started to exclaim, seein’ the delicious fare on the table, when a deep alto voice drifted authoritatively out of the kitchen.
“No cussin’,” it said. “This is a family dinner an’ we don’t allow that kind o’ language at the table.”

What the . . . they had spies all over, Schwartz thought. This wasn’t goin’ to be that easy. In the meantime, St. Peter rolled is eyes in disgust. How could that woman who was stone deaf hear what was goin on in the dinin’ room? He wouldn’t pursue it ‘cause he didn’t want to know. Well, Schwartz wanted to know, It was all he could do to keep from crawlin’ under the table to see what was hidden there. He’d have to be very careful if he was to win God over to the devil’s side.

Saturday, February 25, 2017

Oh God Part Six

Part Six
Well we laughed out loud indeed at my interpretation of the did all the others around the table. It kind of served to break the ice a bit because after that and there was a lot of conversation and good humour. We sat long into the night in friendly conversation. When we finally packed it in for the night, we all had a feeling of satisfaction and comradery. I wasn’t sure whether Schwartz had bought into our family plan or found himself as a double agent. Either way, it didn’t matter a bit. The ‘Us and Them’ problem would likely persist until there was a total demise of all life forms on earth. It would of course be caused by humans in their insatiable desire to take over MY domain.
If I’da been smart, I’da left the wolf in charge. At least he knew how to keep an even keel in the life cycle. Well, let’s face it, I can make another one anyways. In fact, I can do a lot o’ things different, like adjust the brain size o’ mankind. In fact, what I’d do is to give him dominion over his own family dinner table an’ nothin’ else. I could’a done a lot o’ things better but it was the first world I’d built in a long time so I guess I can allow myself some room for error. The other ones turned out much better.

At the next meetin’ we’ll have to get into the business of the ‘us an’ them’ again. I noticed a number o’ people down on earth talkin’ about it already so it must have some degree of importance in somebody’s mind. Look at that! It’s playin out exactly like I said. It must be about time to send Jesus down there to straighten them knuckle heads out once an’ for all. If anybody can convince them to abandon their predatory ways, it’s him. A thousand years of love an’ peace on earth ought’a be enough time for people to get used to the idea. Then we’ll see whether I’ll need to invoke my third an’ final disaster.

Saturday, February 18, 2017

Oh God - Part Five

Part Five
Well you can bet you’re bottom dollar that Schwartz would be surprised by the invitation. He saw it as an opportunity to lord it over us (forgettin’ that I AM the Lord in the first place), so he accepted the invitation. He even joined us in askin’ a blessin’ for the food at the table although he balked a little at the “fellowship o’ those around it”. We soon dispelled that with the laughter and banter around the table, a lot of it includin’ him as a new family member.
About the time dessert was finished an’ everyone was feelin’ well satisfied I decided to start the purpose of the meetin’ off. “Schwartz,” I said, “the world has gotten itself into a very dangerous situation. It’s on the brink of destroyin’ itself, an’ I don’t think anybody wants that. We got one chance to rectify that. One chance! ‘Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us’. With that I want to say welcome to our family. You are one of us as we also are of you. That way we can discuss all our differing opinions and by the end of our discussions we can come to a consensus. If that’s not possible, we can hold it over until the next meeting.”
“It seems a little iffy to me,” said Schwartz suspiciously.
“In your vernacular, LOL to us with that,” I said
“WHAT?” said Schwartz.
“LOL – Lots of Luck!”

“Oy,” said Schwartz. “You don’t understand the acronyms. LOL means ‘laughed out loud.’”

Saturday, February 11, 2017

Fantasy in a Wine Glass

Fantasy in a Wine Glass
Is it old age creeping up? Is it perhaps an over-active imagination, or is it perhaps the magic of the wine glass? I don’t know, but something strange is going on. Whatever it is gives me the shivers.
Well, I was thinking of doing some clay modelling, something I hadn’t done in a while and since the Missus’ birthday was coming up, I thought I’d make her a wine glass to celebrate her birthday with. So I put together a number of little Styrofoam balls for a stem and a bigger one at the top for the bowl and a medium one at the bottom for the base. Well I’d done some experimenting with the Styrofoam and found that it melted right down when I baked the clay, so it would be perfect.
Wrapping just the right amount of clay around the Styrofoam and smoothing it around until it was just about right I set it in the oven to bake. When it finally came out of the oven and cooled off - it was crooked! Not only that, but the stem was too fat. Nothing in the world would straighten the stem out. It was just not going to be a wine glass - - - - but - - - - it could be a trophy cup – a loving cup. Yeah, that’s it – a loving cup! So I carefully measured and made two identical handles and baked them too, gluing them onto the (now) loving cup. Well it wasn’t too neat, but I can sand them down I guess.
Once everything dries properly, I take it in hand to begin the sanding process and suddenly I can’t believe my eyes. This is no loving cup! What I’m holding in my hand is a statue of an indigenous woman carrying a basket of something on her head for heaven’s sake! The Missus agrees. That’s exactly what it looks like! (she says).
So now I’m wondering what spirit is behind all this. Is it the wine missing from the original goblet, or the glass complaining that it turned out crooked. By the time I get finished painting the blessed thing, who knows what it will be? I guess I’ll just call it creative art and let it go at that, but it begs the question: am I the artist who created the piece, or just the messenger of what the piece wanted to say? You often hear that from stone cutters and wood carvers.