Friday, October 27, 2006

The Tennessee Envelopes

Dear Ma'am,

So, God decided he just had to talk to me. His people called my people and a date was set and I was so excited I just vomited involuntarily.
He sent a car, a gent like that, and we met just a few hundred thousand kilometres from K-PAX. “Like the movie”, I say to him, impressed with his L.A. attitude but he just looked disappointed. Like I have something to prove to God!
“Palindrome, you need to focus. Life is more complicated than any philosophy has dared to infer.”
“Say God, did Cindy Crawford really get her shit out in Fair Game, or did she, like, wear nipple tape? My friend Joe wants to know. He doesn’t want to waste time, you know, on that crummy VHS if she isn’t fully topless.”
“Look Palindrome…”
“Jesus Christ, waste time! You know what I’m talking about. You’re God. He doesn’t want to waste wank, alright.”
“Anna, what you hear isn’t my voice and what you see isn’t my face. They are both illusions so you can understand. You can understand?”
“Oh, nice Sony. Does this radio pick up earth?”
“Yes child. But just from 1942.”
“Oh, I only like The Jamiroquai. They're so cool right now”
“Do you not care at all, Anna, why I asked you to come here? Do you not want to know my secrets? I have a radio receiver under the nail of my right pinkie. See? So whenever I pick at my ear I can listen to Chesney Hawkes. See?”
“Oh, I don’t like him.”
“Say God, hmmm, don’t you want to make out or something?”
“Don’t put that gum there. No. Here. Just put it into this wrapper.”
“You eat Burger King!”
“I can see this isn’t going to work. I apologise for bringing you out here Anna. But I was willing to share everything with you and more. You could have been next to Godliness. Instead – Instead you just want to fuck.”
“Do you know any good cosmic parties? Or any fourth-dimensional swing joints? I hate when a good orgy ends. Can’t we just get rid of linear time altogether?”
“Don’t grab me so hard man.”
“Can’t you see that I am the universe itself? And you, you are just an element of the universe and of me. It’s simple. Every planet and star, every person and animal, every sub-atomic particle; they all co-operate to suffer under my whim. Human consciousness and curiosity are just rudimentary constituents of my own vastly greater intelligence. Do you not care for this at all?”
“No man, jeez. Chillax.”
“You don’t care!”
“What do you expect? I’m only human.”
What a bummer that date was, I don’t have to tell you. But he was nice enough to drop me off at a wicked Martian gig where I met T’Pau of Klaxon. Two penises. No shit. Ladies, I can’t tell you…”

Yours Sincerely,


  1. Never trust a God who manifests you as a part of it's own subconscious.

    It's only looking out for itself.

  2. That's a bloody good point. And an angle I hadn't considered.
    It's like God taking his dick for a wank.
    He doesn't care about the dick, only the wank.
    If you want a retards explanation, that is.