God - Most interviews begin with, "I first met God," and then go on from there, as if they were interviewing a starlet or star, or someone with whom the first meeting, the first impression, is worthy of note. Large, soft spoken, a nervous tap--all of it important, somehow. This, however, is not the case. I have never met God. He doesn't send me email. She doesn't call me on the phone. It doesn't agree to be recorded. Yet still, there is God, here. Speaking.

God, Speaking -

This isn't really an interview, y'know.



It can't be if you're writing the answers down for me.



...

You're full of shit, B.

God - "And the rib, which the LORD God had taken from man, made he a woman, and brought her unto the man. And Adam said, This is now bone of my bone, and flesh of my flesh: she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man."

God, Speaking -



I just sorta walked into it. you know how it is--you want something to be something, it just appears.



Stop being so whiny.



I hate whiny people.



Don't smirk.



Not everyone religious is whiny. Or annoying.



Just get a fucking menu.

God - "Do you not know that you are each an Eve? The sentence of God on this sex of yours lives in this age: the guilt must of necessity live too. You are the Devil's gateway: You are the unsealer of the forbidden tree: You are the first deserter of the divine law: You are she who persuaded him whom the devil was not valiant enough to attack. You destroyed so easily God's image, man. On account of your desert even the Son of God had to die."

God, Speaking -

You ever give it any thought?



They do a good range of laksa here. But back to my point: you ever give the afterlife any thought?



Just answer the fucking question.



Answer it.



That's not answering the question.



So you're saying you want Hell?



You better pray for a third then.



God - "And, behold, a woman in the city, which was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster box of ointment. And stood at his feet behind him weeping, and began to wash his feet with tears, and did wipe them with hairs of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment... And he [Jesus] turned to the woman and said unto Simon, "Seest this woman? I entered into thine house, thou gavest me no water for my feet: but she hath washed my feet with tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head. Thou gavest me no kiss: but this woman hath not ceased to kiss my feet. My head with oil didst thou not anoint: but this woman hath anointed my feet with ointment. Wherefore I say unto thee, Her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much: but to whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little.""

God, Speaking

So, you hate religious people?



Indulge me.



You're me anyway and I'm you. That make you feel better.



Then answer me the question.



You--



You just cut off God!



You hate religious people, don't you?



God - "The power of femaleness--to attract, seduce, pleasure, and reproduce; to mother, mold, inspire, and educate--has always posed a threat to the Church. From the earliest centureies, Church fathers have sought to silence or sideline the voices of women. Indeed, the particulars of Mary Magdalene's discipleship--her relationship to Jesus, her supposed sexual sins, her teaching and writing and ministry--are still the subject of much debate. Evidence in the Gnostic Gospels suggests that Mary was more intimately attached to Jesus than any of the twelve apostles. That she ministered and preached and wrote and spread the "good news" in the early years of the emerging christian Church seems incontrovertible. That one way of silencing her teachings wand diminishing her standing among Christ's disciples was to taint her memory with sexual sin--a thing accomplished by a third-century church who first suggested she was the prostitute described in Like 7: 36-50--seems likewise incontrovertible."

God, Speaking -

The problem with religion has always been people.



Fuck you. I regret bringing you to this place.



Shut up. I'm making a point.



Take that laksa.



Your laksa. Take that. That's not a bad laksa. You just said so, and that's fine. But it ain't the best fucking laksa ever made, is it? Ain't going to feed everyone. Ain't going to please everyone.



So it would. The problem is, say, you make it so that everyone has to eat this laksa. You get a marketing team. They come up with a slogan. Some fucker writes a rule book on how to make it. Suddenly, up pops some Soup Nazi, forcing you to pay for it one way, eat it another, don't share it--it just gets all fucked up.



The thing I'm trying to say here is that laksa is good for some people. Some people love the laksa. Some do not. That's fine. But no laksa can run the world, and you can't run the world on some sort of purity of the laksa, but the moment some people get organised, it's laksa or nothing, you know?



No, I would like a cigarette.

God -



God, Speaking -



Fair enough. You enlightened?



Well, it's all you talking to yourself, so what's that say?



You're a fucking genius, B.



Ha! Come on, loser, lets go. You owe me cigarettes.


Previously,

A
B
C
D
E
F

---

Has this gotten out of hand yet? I could have written a short story with the time I've spent writing these. Fuuu-ck. Do you know, sometimes I think about going back and altering earlier posts to bring it all into line. I think I've gone insane. I've lost my mind. Clearly.