Dude, Where's My Country_ - Michael Moore [57]
In the beginning, I never really worried about this young Bush fellow because, in My divine plan, I created him to be one of your rich-kid party boys. In the Great Mix of the universe, I allow for all kinds of people—and I create between 200 and 300 party boys a day (even more during Spring Break). You need them as much as you need the rocket scientists and cellists I send you. These boys are crucial to keeping the party going—they get people laughing; they line up the bands; they buy the drinks for the underaged. Then, after the party, they occasionally have to kill someone on the road because I need souls here on a steady, rotating basis. That’s the way it works and Little Georgie was doing just fine until that twelve-step program had to go and mess him up.
Man, I hate those “anonymous” groups—AA, NA, OA, GA—all of them invoking My name to sober up, stop eating, and quit gambling. All of a sudden, no more sinners! That’s NOT the way it works. I need sinners sinning and then repenting and then sinning again and always in My clutches so I can get some penance and good works out of them. When they stop sinning and start “surrendering” themselves to a “higher power,” then the whole threat of hellfire and damnation that keeps them doing My will goes out the window.
Well, that’s what happened to this particular party boy. Before I could whip up a plague of locusts, W. was off the divine plan. I tried My best to make his life as miserable as possible. I saw to it that every one of his business ventures failed. I made sure that his baseball team sucked beyond belief. I even appeared to him in a dream one night and convinced him to trade away Sammy Sosa, and then, just to rub it in, I made Sosa a home-run king when he went to his new team.
But nothing would defeat George W. So I put his father in the White House, thinking, how could little Georgie survive this? It drove brother Neil into the S&L scandal, and it forced brother Marvin into hiding.
But it didn’t faze George at all, and he found ways to use it for his benefit. Before I knew it, he was governor of Texas and he was deciding when people would die. THAT’S MY JOB! I don’t know, maybe I’m getting old, maybe I’m slowing down, but nothing I tried—not even making sure he lost the election—did the trick.
Soon, he was all-powerful and ruling the world. Many of you gave up on Me. The praying stopped and cursing began. Oh, yes, I have feelings, too. And it hurts. It really does. Who do I have to turn to in My time of need? The Holy Ghost? That Guy is useless, never around, never leaves a forwarding address.
So, for the few of you who still hold some faith in Me, let Me assure you of the following:
1. I am the Lord thy God and HE is the Son of George, not the Son of God. I will have him spending eternity parking cars in Hell’s VIP lot as soon as I get my hands on him.
2. I did not order Bush to invade any countries. It is still wrong to kill other human beings unless they have a really big knife at your throat and all pleas for mercy and a warning shot have gone unheeded. Killing humans is My job, and boy, do I love it. You’ve all gotten Me so pissed off, I may just ax another 10,000 of you tonight!
3. I do not want school kids praying to Me in a classroom. Save it for the church and before bedtime—that’s enough for the little tykes. You keep forcing them to pray to Me, they are going to hate My ass. Stop it!
4. An embryo is an embryo, a fetus is a fetus, and a baby is a baby. That’s the way I set it up. When it is a baby, then it becomes a human being. You humans are difficult enough, I don’t need more of you around any sooner than necessary. And while we’re on the subject, I really don’t care about your sex lives, as long as they’re consenting and adult. Just keep it to yourselves,