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Blogfest 2005 - Oct 8, 2005 - Printable Version
- George Talks to God.....
by Mark Faulk
(Editor's note: This is a Faulking Truth exclusive, compiled from transcripts obtained under the Freeeeedom of Information Act.) "George. George? GEORGE! George, wake up!!!!"
"Zzzzzzz.....uh, what the....stay the course!.....um, who is this?"
"George, this is God."
"Oh, God, it's You again. I was uh, taking a power nap. Gotta keep focused, got a country to run, people to free in the Mideast, gotta fight ter-ror, terrorists are evvvverywhere, they're sneaky little devils, trying to take our Freedom. Hate Liberty, makes 'em mad as hell."
George narrowed his eyes until they were no more than beady slits, glanced nervously around, grinding his teeth together slightly.
"The terrorists are everywhere," he repeated. "They might even be hiding somewhere in this very room right now, watching us, mon-i-turing our every word. Shhhhhh.......just keep talking about Freedom and Liberty, that's what keeps them away."
His voice was barely a whisper now.
"They.....the eeeevildoers.....they hate Freedom. Hate it. Freedom is our cross in the War on Terror.....terror.....ter-ror.....Freeeeeedddoooommmm."
"George.....George! Pay attention here. Dammit, George, this is important. George, I have to tell you, I'm more than a little disappointed in you. It's time to make amends, time to repent."
"Are you sure that this is God? I mean, I usually don't speak directly to You, usually Karl has meetings with You, and then tells me what You want me to do. Sometimes when I'm feeling sleepy, You whisper things in my ear, but Your voice sounds different today, kinda funny, and scary too. hehehehehe....."
George chuckled to himself.
"George.....what's so funny, George?"
"I was just thinking about the time you slipped your tongue in my ear while you were talking to me. It tickled.....hehehehehe."
"Okay, George, you're just creeping me out now. Try to pay attention here, for one blessed moment. Can you do that for me, George? For freedom, do it for freedom, do it for liberty."
"Yes...Freedom, the Evildoers hate Freedom.....they're on the run, you know, we're winning the War on Terror."
He squinted his eyes until they were almost closed.
"I can feel it. We're winning the War on Terror. Terror.....terror.....terror..... freeeedddddooooommmmm. The Eeeeevildoers."
"Goddammit, George, this is important, listen up, you simpleton. And stop capitalizing 'freedom' and 'liberty', like they're omnipotent. That really pisses me off."
"Sorry, God. You know, God, your voice sounds dif-ferent. Can't put my finger on it.....you're not one of them, are you? An eeeeevildoer, I mean, eeeeevildoer...... terrorist.....freedomhater.....those who would take our freeeedom away from us."
"Okay, here's the deal, George. Pay attention, this is important. That voice you hear whispering in your ear, that's not Me. That's Karl Rove, pretending to be Me. George, Karl is the real evildoer."
"But....but....but....you told me to fight the evildoers wherever they may hide.....in Iraq. You said, 'George, you're the one I've picked to battle the evildoers.' You said, 'George, go and fight those terrorists in Afghanistan', and I did, and then you said, 'George, go and end the tyranny in Iraq'. And I did."
"That was Karl, George, not me. George, you know that secret anti-terrorist device that they told you that you have to wear to keep the evildoers away from you?"
"You mean the controls to my Evildoers Force Field?"
"Yeah, George, whatever. Your 'Evildoers Force Field.' Okay, George, here's the thing. That's a wire. Do you know what a wire is, George?"
George appeared to be in deep thought for the longest time. He kept waiting for the voices to tell him what to say next, like they usually did, but instead, all he heard was static inside of his head. It sounded funny.
"Mmmmmmmmm........hehehehehehe." George was imitating the static. "Mmmmmmmm....... mmmmmmmmmm......mmmmmmmmmmmmm"
"Jesus, George, can't you focus for even a second? Don't piss me off George. You do not want to feel My wrath." God wagged his perfect index finger at George when He said "You do not want to feel My wrath," and bobbed his head back and forth like an angry black woman.
For some reason, George hated it when God acted like He was black. It scared him. For some reason he thought to himself, "Eeeeevildoers."
God sighed out loud. This was going to be harder than he originally thought. Jesus was right, this guy was a total moron.
"George......that's a wire, a transmitter. That little thing in your ear that they told you was a terrorist-seeking antenna - it's an earpiece. That's how Rove has been telling you what to say. That's not My voice whispering in your ear, it's Karl Rove. He's been doing you like a cheap Texas whore, George."
"But....but....the voices. You're telling me right now, 'Go get the Palestinians their state and get the Israelis their security, and get peace in the Middle East'. Gotta listen to God, God tells me what to do. Battle the evildoers.....fight the terrorists over there, so we don't have to fight them over here."
"GEORGE!!!!!" God hadn't raised His voice that much since He had to put Job in his place oh so long ago. He sighed again. Those were the good old days, people actually listened when He spoke. Sometimes He wondered if He should bring another flood down on the Earth, wipe the place clean, and start all over again. Jesus! After Katrina you'd think that they would take a freaking hint.
In the meantime, George was still rambling on, repeating over and over again, half aloud, half to himself, "Eeeeevildoers......terrorists......freeeeeeeeeedom......ax-sis of eeeeevil......liberty.....lib.....er......liber......lib-ber-ty.......eeeeeeeevil.......doooooooooers."
He practiced squinting his eyes in different ways, pursing his lips the way Condi had shown him, and then squaring his jaw just like Cheney always did. Condi.....his mind began to wander to Condi.....Condi, an African-American Republican......a conservative Black woman......plus, she was smart! A lot smarter than he was. Black woman......forbidden fruit. God, he wanted her. His hand was beginning to drift to his crotch when God's voice brought him back to reality.
"GEORGE!!!!!" God wanted to just bring down a lightening bolt and turn the whole damn White House into soot. He took a deep breathe and counted slowly to ten, then, feeling a bit calmer, continued.
"Okay, George, here's the thing. You've been had. Your advisers....Cheney, Karl, Rumsfeld....they're telling you what to say, what to do. They've been doing it all along, pulling your strings. Why do you think they keep sending you off to Crawford on those long vacations?"
George was really trying to pay attention now, squinting his eyes into the "concentration" position, focusing......and then waiting for the voices to tell him what to think, what to say.
But for once, the voices weren't there. God had scrambled the signal, taken away George's lifeline. In another room, Karl Rove, Rumsfeld, and Cheney were beginning to panic. They thought about sending Condoleezza in to distract George, but oddly, for the first time, they were actually just a little afraid of the Wrath of God. Rove turned to Cheney.
"You go in there, George will listen to you. You always told me that you weren't afraid of anyone, not even God."
"Fuck off, Karl." Cheney smiled to himself. He loved saying that. It made him feel dirty, like a commoner. One of the masses. He fiddled with the controls of the transmitter, and tapped on the microphone. Still nothing.
After awhile, George just gave up trying to hear the voices and started thinking about Condi again, remembering that time he kissed her square on the lips, tasting her luscious sweetness, like sweet tea on a hot Texas afternoon. She tasted good. His hand was now between his legs, lightly fondling his.....
"Goddammit, GEORGE!!!!! What is wrong with you? Can't you even think for yourself at all?"
George quickly pulled his hand away from his lap, and tried to think for himself.
"Eeeeevildoers.....lib-ber-ty......ax-sis-of-eeeevil......freeeeeedom......"
Then, a tiny, dim light went on in his head. He squinted his eyes even more, then realized that they were completely closed now, and opened them a little, just enough to see. There, that was better. George cleared his throat.
"So, if you're God, why did you stick your tongue in my ear that time? I mean, it seemed a little suspicious at the time, but it felt so good that I didn't say anything. I didn't want to ruin the moment."
God sighed yet again. "George, that was Condoleezza, not me. She was supposed to be telling you to bomb Iran while you were napping, and she got a little too excited. I don't do tongues."
"But....but.....Condi? You mean, she wants me?" (hand to crotch one more time) "But it happened twice. Are you saying that she wants to taste my Texas tea....love oil, that is."
George chuckled at his Beverly Hillbillies joke. TV is funny, and that Jethro....smart as a whip. George was a little bit envious of Jethro, he wished he was smart like that. But that Ellie Mae......mmmmmm.....she was pretty, real pretty.
God snapped his fingers in front of George's face, bringing him back to reality.
"Okay, one more time, pay attention. George, the second time, that was Cheney's tongue. He's a little sick in that way....well, in a lot of ways, actually." God shuddered slightly just thinking about it. Not a pretty visual, that.
This seemed hopeless. Maybe the ashes to ashes thing was the best approach after all. I mean, Jesus, just imagine the reaction to that little scene. The White House goes up in a cloud of smoke, and maybe even take out Congress while He was at it. The masses would love it. Hell, the neocons would probably just blame it on al Qaida, so what would be the point? But still.....
"Yeah, you sons-of-bitches. Here's a little global warming for you. Feeling the heat yet, assholes? That's what we like to call righteous anger, you rich selfish bastards. Does the term 'camel through the eye of a needle' mean anything to you, dirtwads? See you in Hell!!! Mwuahahahaha!!!!"
Now God had to bring himself back to reality.....His mind was wandering. Jesus, this guy is dangerous. His stupidity is contagious, worse than the avian flu. God thought to himself. There just has to be a way to get through to this redneck moron. Then, like a revelation from......well, from Himself, it came to him.
"George, you're absolutely right. I really just stopped in to tell you that you're doing a bang up job.....you're doing My work. Sorry to interrupt your 'power nap.' Just keep listening to My voice in your ear, and together, we'll defeat the evildoers."
"Thanks, God.......eeeevillllldooerrsss......ax-sisssssssszzzzzzz........" George was already drifting back off to sleep, thinking about "Hop on Pop" in his head. He smiled to himself as the voices began to softly whisper in his ear again. It felt good to do God's work.
Back in Heaven, God sat on His Heavenly Throne, leaned forward slightly, and tapped on his microphone. Taptaptap. He cleared his majestic throat, and doing his best Karl Rove imitation, began to speak.
"George.....George, this is God again. Remember what I told you about getting the Palestinians their state and getting the Israelis their security? Well, forget all about that, there's been a slight change of plan. First of all, let's deal with Karl Rove, and then we'll take care of that stupid war in Iraq......"
George smiled to himself again. Yes, it did feel good to do God's work......
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