The other day, I had a brainwave – God should have a blog. Or at least a representative on earth to write that blog for him. And that representative could be me. I am on earth, after all. I was made in his image, dammit.
I came up with the name “Dear God”, a title that could lend itself to either/both of two concepts:
a) A problem page where conundrum-sufferers can consult the most divine of agony aunts to consider a whole host of concerns.
b) The ongoing sufferings of a clinically depressed deity of sulk wallowing around his bedsit flat after his wife has left him for Hindu god Ganesha (“that elephant-faced bastard”).
Then I discover someone (God, apparently) has only gone and done exactly that. Well, a) at least. Sort of. And their pictures are prettier and all.
Dear God is like a dark tunnel full of tramp piss* on the information super highway to enlightenment. It’s a stagnant oxbow lake of the internet that diverts the course of the blogosphere with a dam of dogma. On it, readers share prayers (shudder) and confessions (great, but never as sordid as you would like) in the flaccid hope that God might get round to reading them. “Email in – send it to The Big Guy”, they yelp (like it doesn’t just go straight to his spam folder). Oh, did I mention they have pretty pictures. Often with little or no connection to the subject matter. But they are pretty.
Take Bobby from Canada, for example. He ditched his missus and began his mission to boff the brains out of an old school friend, only a year later to wind up drunk, penniless and homeless, snivelling in a corner of what presumably must be an internet café seeking spiritual advice.
God, I prayed you would open a door for me to get out of all this, but things worsened,so I stopped that prayer. Sin has taken me way farther than I ever wanted to go and now, it seems as though there is no escape.
Bum. Only the photo department didn’t get the memo. Their idea of Bobby’s plight is this:
Which is a man who has come home from work to discover his wife is cheating on him with another woman, a prelude to a glossy porn ménage à trois involving said man, the wife and the open-minded lover – not really the same problem. In fact, probably rubbing salt into poor Bobby’s wounds.
And God’s verdict?
God Says:
January 8th, 2009 at 12:56 pm
great photo.
* Piss update – another grizzly dude pissing in public, this time on the wall of the small pub/eatery in Liverpool St station, next to Upper Crust. At 4pm on a Saturday.
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