Tossing God Out of the House
by Regis Boff
I am cutting back on God’s allowance. No more unanswered prayers and over the top temples in which to worship him. His entire catechism will be constrained from now on. He is, in other words, going to get a job. A real job. He believes He is some app accomplishing menial tasks that we were doing for ourselves quite nicely until he showed up. Like, Steve Jobs.
He acts like we are His children, not He ours. No more of that bullshit, for sure. We gave birth to him, and His ass can still be paddled. We go to work every day and on Saturday or Sunday he expects us to tax ourselves for the extra cash He wants for robes, pointed helmets, and rings to kiss. Time to get a grip.
Flying frogs, great big floods and overheated cellars of eternal flame are terrors most of us have by now outgrown. Only fools prefer a God that frightens them.
It is time for him to get his own apartment and provide for Himself for a couple of millennium. I mean it this time.