Lying in bed last night I tossed and turned thinking about the extremism of the religious right.
Then a deep voice boomed above me. It wasn’t Orson Welles’ or Sir Cedric Hardwicke’s voice. It was close, but it was more like John Facenda’s; perhaps a cross between John Facenda’s and Mel Brandt’s. It must the Supreme being know as the Lord, or King of the Universe. God for short.
“Sheepdog, can you hear you hear me?” It queried in a stentorian manner.
“A deaf man can hear, you,” I replied sardonically.
“That’s Mel Brooks’s joke. Haven’t you ever heard of attribution?” the voice asked.
“Speaking of attribution, there are a lot people in American politics who claim to be speaking for you or your son,” I responded. “Isn’t that a violation of your commandments bearing false witness or using the Lord’s name in vain? By the way, shouldn’t you be talking to them instead of me? I’m not what you would call a true believer. I’m agnostic on this organized religion thing, I’m a Democrat…to paraphrase Will Rogers.”
The voice chuckled. “No, I’m choosing you, Sheepdog. You see, you are able to reason, and the people who read your blog, they think that you have an open mind. Many share your point of view. I know I do.”
This reminded me of the politician’s ploy of sucking up to the press by telling the reporter what a great writer they are…nonetheless, who am I to argue with a Supreme Being?
He went on, “You deliver a message of tolerance, a recognition that people are imperfect, and a belief in equality for all. I want to spend some time with you. Is this a good time?” he asked.
“Well it’s three o’clock in the morning. Go ahead. I do have a status meeting conference call at 9:30.”
He chuckled again. “I knew there should have been twelve commandments. Number eleven should have been: Thou shalt not have status meetings.”
I thought carefully for a moment. “and number twelve?”
“That not important, but I digress. It is important that you write about this. You and those who read your blog need to challenge these charlatans who claim to speak for me. You must ask those who read your blog to speak out against bigotry, hatred, greed and avarice. People think you make sense. You must get them to recognize the efforts of these zealots who are trying to subjugate your constitution and the principles on which your country was founded. You and your readers must stop this transgression against all of humanity”
“Well,” I said. “Why not create one of your miracles? Why are you asking a writer who poses as a dog to send this message?”
“Look miracles are overrated. I created humans in my own image, and it’s been difficult to look in the mirror lately. I’ve given man and woman the capacity to think. Men and women have built civilizations. I did not create the cities, highways, space craft and the internet. Man and woman did that. It’s up to men and women to take action into their own hands and fight this oppression. Mention my name a few times. People will believe you.” He paused for effect.
“What make you think people will believe that you talked with me?” I asked.
He paused for a moment and said, “Look they believe that nitwit Franklin Graham speaks with me. I’ve never had a conversation with him, ever. Why would he? Following in his father’s footsteps is nepotism. He should go out and get a real job. Like hosting TV infomercials. Say something with wit and common sense, and people will believe you. You might even get an Editor’s Pick, too.”
“That would be a ‘miracle’,” I said sarcastically.
“Look my time here is almost done. Do you have any questions?”
“Well, I have a few if you don’t mind…”
He cut me off.
“Tom Brady is not my nephew, Bill Belichick is not the devil, and I won’t give you the winning numbers to Powerball or Mega Millions. You have a better chance of winning if you buy a ticket, anyway.”
And with that, the voice was gone. While there were no silver bullets left behind like with the Lone Ranger, I never did get to thank him.