Being a god is not all it’s cracked up to be. For a start, you need believers. The more who believe in you, the more powerful you become. This does attract more than its fair share of, how can I put it? Nutters, those men and women who believe passionately that they speak on your behalf and appoint themselves as your representatives on Earth. They really do give us guys a bad name. The problem is, if you try and talk to them about it, they get themselves into even more of a frenzy.
The other hassle, if I’m being honest, is that with power comes responsibility. We gods get blamed for everything from floods and famine to misplacing the house keys.
Now, personally, I much prefer the quiet life. Less responsibility, less blame when things go wrong. I’ve still got powers, thanks to a small sect of Viking descendants up near the North Pole and an elderly Norwegian lady who still prays to me a couple of times a week, when she remembers. The rest of the time I lead a normal life in a small town near Maine. I adopt the persona of a middle aged guy who keeps his front yard tidy, drops in at the local bar once a week and helps out when the community needs me. Otherwise, I enjoy reading, watching a little TV, and occasionally, just occasionally, using my powers for a little fun.
Weiterlesen: What Jehovah Didn't Witness
Sonntag, 13. April 2014
What Jehovah didn't Witness
Abonnieren
Kommentare zum Post (Atom)
Keine Kommentare:
Kommentar veröffentlichen