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God, This is Hard

God looked tired, he (she) hadn’t been sleeping well over the past three-plus years.

He (she) had more wrinkles than Keith Richards, his (her) memory was slipping and he (she) forgot simple things, like answering prayers, standing up straight was getting harder and his (her) vision wasn’t as good as it was way, way, way back when he (she) could easily see to the end of eternity, even if he (she) couldn’t explain it to anybody.

People have no idea how difficult it is to be God, people think he (she) can do anything and the years had definitely taken a toll on him (her) and there was no end in sight.

The census in purgatory has been steadily climbing coincidentally since Nov. 3, 2016, and it was approaching the maximum occupancy and God was getting very, very, very concerned. The overflow would have only one place to go and that would not be up.

God was terribly embarrassed by many of his (her) creations through the years. Don’t ask why he made so many miserable Cretans, you would never understand the explanation.

There were the ones that everybody knows, like Hitler, Mao, Stalin, people like that. But there were many others who have been buried in the dust bins of history, who were equally horrid and whom God tried very hard to erase from the public memory because they were such royal mistakes.

Ever hear of Countess Elizabeth Báthory de Ecsed? Oy. She lived in the late 16th Century and was known by her detractors as the “Blood Countess” in part because she liked to lure young peasant women to her castle, promise them jobs and then torture them by sticking needles under their finger nails, covering them in honey before unleashing bees on them and biting off chunks of their flesh.

How about Timur? Double oy. He was a real beauty who reigned from 1370–1405, leading military campaigns through a large chunk of western Asia. In what is now Afghanistan, Timur ordered the construction of a tower made out of live men, each stacked on top of another, and cemented together with bricks and mortar. Yikes.

And now we come to Donald Trump. I made him, I take the blame. People will say I have screwed up but really, I just set the table and it’s up to you to choose what to eat.

Of course Trump can’t hold a candle to Timur but he is pretty, darn bad, in his own way. Looking back, I should never have allowed “The Apprentice” to get that popular.

I’ve done my best to get rid of him, sent down a viral plague, something I have done before with tremendous success. The plan was that the plague would ruin the economy and Trump would be blamed and hoisted on his own petard for not protecting the country. We shall see if I was right but I’m not holding my breath.

I’m really sorry for the collateral damages, as more than a million people died, but I thought it would be worth it if Trump left the White House and put on an orange jumpsuit.

I know, I know, it didn’t work yet because I totally underestimated how many of my creations would stand by Trump even if he shot someone on Fifth Avenue, as he said he could. And I expected most people would cringe and turn Democrat when they heard Trump brag about grabbing pussies. Gosh darn, was I ever wrong.

There have just been too many hypocrites, people worshiping the golden calf, looking out only for themselves and not caring about anyone else. I know the history but I thought you were beyond that. My bad.

I admit that I am at my wit’s end and that is why I convened a study group of my better angels, including FDR, JFK, Truman, Jimmy Carter (even though he wasn’t popular as president, he continues to do my work and that’s alright with me) and I may call up Obama even though he technically doesn’t qualify to be here but extraordinary situations demand extraordinary actions and anyway, I make the rules.

The conclusion by my eternally optimistic group was that most of the country will do the right thing and jettison Trump. If my angels prove wrong, let it be known that my wrath has no boundaries, you will reap what you sow, you will get what you deserve, you are what you eat, you get what you give, life is what you make of it, payback is a bitch, the chickens will come home to roost, and finally, my most famous cliché, bread always falls on the buttered side, if you know what I mean.

So just remember what FDR said, “When you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on.” Or in the immortal words of the captain of the Titanic, “Don’t give up the ship.”

And if that doesn’t comfort you, let me remind you that it could be a lot worse. You could have lived during the Spanish inquisition in the later 1400s when Torquemada, known popularly as the “Grand Inquisitor,” and been one of about 2,000 people burned at the stake because they were considered heretics. Now do you feel better?

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