Mortaljive: The Rest is Silence

There is no still point in all the Universe, and that is the rock upon which I stand

Monday, November 09, 2009

Monday Prayer

mjs is guest blogging until the General returns from his Weekend Intensive with that nice man from Seattle. It must be pretty intense indeed because the General's nurse never usually calls on a Sunday, but that is not our concern. Here follows our prayer for the coming week:



Lord, who is God of all that is oilesque
And tar-like, and greasy, and flammable
Dear Lord, may it please you to know
Our wimpy concerns about the environment have abated
Our vision to Vietnamize Afghanistan is proceeding
Our commitment to burn the Black Gold is solid
We burn it in your name, Dear God Man Guy Lord

Oh Yahweh, who doesn't like to be called That
We sing your praises, for You seek our praise
Which is your thing, don't get us wrong, but...
Perhaps you wouldn't kill so many of us if you, well, you know
Took some responsibility...
Forgive us, Lord, for we are made in your likeness
And are therefore full of thine Piss & Vinegar



Forgive us, dear Lord, for just about everything that ticks you off
For the crime of not finding your Cloud Cave
For the crime of not tweaking your Beard
For the crime of not singing popular songs outside your bedroom window
Forgive us, dear Lord
But we don't get around much anymore
Amen-ish



Please excuse our retardification, dear Lord
We know your Math is Supreme
And that which profits our corporations profits Thee
At least that's what we're counting on
For somebody is making money Hand over Proverbial Fist
Surely, Thou dost know this
Truly, You would have done something about this by now
Verily, your silence indicates your interest
For by Your silence You make a Great Noise which none can hear
(pause)
Forgive us our intemperance, but why not just come out and say
Whatever the fuck it is that you want?
Amen



Dear Lord, the Middle Eastern One
The Monotheistic Construct
Not that other one
With all the heads and that massive boner
Just want to be very clear which Lord we're talking to here
Dear Lord
We thank Thee for our cars and our trucks
Our trains and our skateboards
And for sex--without sex Life would suck even harder
Than it does, which is kind of ironic--the sucking part
Well, you get the gist of that

Dear Lord, thank you for our metal and our plastic
Our monofilaments and various and sundry textiles
That take longer to break down than it did for You
To create this vast Amusement Park we call Earth

Just one question: dinosaurs became birds?
Really? WTF dear Lord?

Please give us the strength to get through another week
Of hype and misinformation and managed histrionics
Please embolden us to not just lay down and eat
All of the corporate shit that is routinely fed us
Amen

Dear God:
We hope you don't catch the H1N1 virus
And if you have gonads, please keep them away from a vise
Seriously, we're not joking here
Keep your gonads far, far away from a vise
It would hurt you so much, to have your balls
Crushed in a vise--so much, it is not even funny
Amen


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images taken by mjs near Long Beach, Washington.

Originally posted at Jesus' General.

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