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June 16, 2005
Volume 2, Issue 16
Random exchange, random book:
Off you go.
A quick note: One of our contributors, The Eschatologist, became a proud pappy this morning. Congrats to Esch and Wife on the birth of their second son!
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Comments
He'd been a fletcher for nearly 30 years. Every day like the one before; always a dull moment.
Until, one day, he was feeling lazy.
Idly, he wondered if an arrow with just a sharpened wooden tip might work, and, having nothing better to do, looped a loosened bowstring around a shaft and spun.
It took only a moment to realize what was happening as wisps of grey curled up from the arrowhead. In seconds, the fabled hotflower had burst into bloom at the point of contact. He gasped as the realization sunk in.
That idiot Sven was a fraud!
Posted by: Keiran Halcyon at June 16, 2005 6:01 AM · Permalink
The distraught woman practically threw him her baby as he entered the apartment. "Helphim, he'snotbreathing..." the words tumbled out in a rush.
John dropped his helmet, cradling the baby in his arms. He tried puff some air through the blue lips, felt resistance... he turned the baby over, head down, hit it on the back three times, turned it back over and checked the mouth - there, a piece of hard candy. He removed it, turned the baby back over to try again, but the baby coughed several times, then began breathing on its own.
Sometimes John felt like a god.
Posted by: hnumpah at June 16, 2005 6:11 AM · Permalink
Each day they went about their chores, the driving value of each action - “purpose.”
He arrived in The Community and they thought him odd. He would wander the fields gazing at the sky.
“Why?” they would ask.
“Because it’s beautiful.”
They would go away confused.
He became focused on an activity, shaping, molding and sculpting.
Ah! They thought. Finally! Purpose!
“No. Because it’s beautiful.”
Inspite of themselves they gathered and watched, first curious (that was a new emotion!) then in awe at what was taking shape.
He leaned over and blew into his creation and it stirred.
He smiled, “Adam.”
Posted by: Darleen at June 16, 2005 6:56 AM · Permalink
“Ughh, hangover,” Ross thought when he awoke.
“What the hell,” he said when he realized he was bound and resting on a pile of wood. He could smell the oil which saturated the wood.
“I don’t deserve this,” he thought. “I just did a few tricks for the girl after dinner last night. She seemed impressed. But most were awed.”
He struggled with his bonds but to no avail. “It’s not fair,” he thought, “these people should be kissing my ass.”
He saw the girl seated a short distance away smiling at him waiting for another trick.
His nose itched.
Posted by: DocMac at June 16, 2005 7:10 AM · Permalink
It was well into the growing season when she came. The crops were cracked and brown, but overnight, they became vibrant and green.
She told them it was her gift to them. She said that He had abandoned them and that she would not.
And so it came to pass that each man and woman of the village swore an oath to the woman with the flowing black hair.
Except for one. The warrior Hrothgar had looked into her pale blue eyes and saw only evil. He knew what he must do. He knew that the witch had to die.
Posted by: Shawn at June 16, 2005 7:18 AM · Permalink
This religion class might be an easy A but it’s boring as hell.
“Please remember that we’ve only unearthed a few sites so far,” the professor says. “There is a lot we don’t know. We do, however, have a pretty good idea of their religious practices. It’s obvious that a primary god was considered either non-existent or aloof to most. Then they had a host of minor deities who were more accessible.”
I flip the page to Pre-War Pantheon (America) and looked at the list: Bush – Minor God of Dissent and Vengeance, Clinton – Minor God of Mischief and Carnal Lust…
Posted by: Jim Parkinson at June 16, 2005 7:45 AM · Permalink
"Oh, why did you have to mention the word 'God'? Yup. Here he comes."
"God? God? Talking about your little faerie in the sky again?"
"No, Tim. It was just idle party talk about what it would be like to become a god."
"You want to become something that is just a sick fantasy????"
"Jesus...."
"Was that a prayer?!? An empty call to an empty sky?"
"It's just an expression, Tim. Calm down. Everyone be good and tell Tim that we all know God doesn't exist so I can get some dip. He's standing in front of the table again."
Posted by: marc at June 16, 2005 8:30 AM · Permalink
He will soon be among us. We know the rituals well and only desire to please Him.
When He arrives, He will provide for our needs and our wants. He will do wondrous things, producing food and water for us. He will create light from darkness. He is our Lord and Master.
We will worship at His feet when he dispenses justice for our sins. We will praise Him when He deigns to notice us. And we will praise Him even when He does not.
We cannot understand His ways. Our only desire is to hear Him say, “Good Dog.”
Posted by: Jim Parkinson at June 16, 2005 8:32 AM · Permalink
"They are becoming pragmatic," Juno hissed. "Too pragmatic. Soon they will aspire to rival the gods themselves."
"We must de-pragmatize them," said Vesta.
"We could splinter their language again," I suggested.
"No, they have already discovered the Hidden Markov Model and the Chomsky Grammar Normalization Algorithm. It wouldn't last," said Juno.
"We could flood the Earth again," said Diana.
"That is much too drastic, and Ceres would not be pleased." Juno tapped her bronze fingers against the marble.
"We could give them politics," said Minerva, and everyone stared at her, amazed at how the simplest answers are often the best.
Posted by: G-Do at June 16, 2005 8:41 AM · Permalink
The cold reality of Nell's world set in. Like this one, she thought; she quickly stifled it, lest the omnipresent cameras catch her dissent.
The thought came back.
So that's what Moore and the others are in it for. The control. The power of a god.
She glanced nervously at the cameras.
We were not meant to live this way.
She started walking away from the square, eyes flitting around at every sign of movement.
We were not meant to live this way! We were not meant--
“Excuse me, Miss,” said the smiling constable who grabbed her. “Come with us.”
Posted by: j.d. at June 16, 2005 8:54 AM · Permalink
It was the next logical step, really.
The first three seasons of American Deity went swimmingly, adding to the pantheon Brian, god of excessive sarcasm, Elizabeth, goddess of internet file-sharing, and Julianna, goddess of pharmeceudical side-effects.
Things took a turn for the worse the fourth year, when the mockers at www.worshiptheworst.com powerdialed Gordon into ascension as god of embarrassing stains. In year five they struck again, elevating Nadia, goddess of camel-toe to the halls of New Olympus. For the sixth year, week 5 will feature a theme night where prospective divinities compete at smiting the site's server, webmaster, and users.
Posted by: Jeff R. at June 16, 2005 8:56 AM · Permalink
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Posted by: shannon at June 16, 2005 9:03 AM · Permalink
“How could a man become a god?” Nell had asked.
He looked down at Nell from his vantage point high above the crowd. It was just this type of question that kept her on the fringes of the group. She’d never be able to accept things on faith alone, this one.
Still, she had asked, so he felt compelled to show her.
The nails hurt like hell going in, but his limbs had long since gone numb. The thirst, however, grew worse with each passing moment.
“Meet me at the cave in three days,” were the last words he spoke.
Posted by: copygodd at June 16, 2005 9:45 AM · Permalink
How Could a Man Become a God
Preheat oven to 75 degrees.
Take one man. Wash him thoroughly with warm water. Anoint his skin with oil.
Combine the following ingredients in a mixing bowl:
One part prophecy
Two parts ritual
One part mystery
Add disciples to taste
Place the mixed ingredients on a flat surface and roll the man in the mixture until his skin is thoroughly coated.
Bake on a collection plate at 75 degrees for 300 years or until golden.
Place on an altar and garnish with holy books.
Serves 1 billion.
The Joy of Cooking, 1st edition
Posted by: Lesley at June 16, 2005 4:57 PM · Permalink
He was a God, perfection personified. He reveled in his reign, delighted in his power.
He dominated the landscape, like no mere mortal had before. He smote his enemies with his terrible wrath. The wealth of the world lay at his feet.
His creations shaped the world, working to complete his divine plan.
His worshippers were the ultimate pragmatists, interested only in creating ever more efficency and profit.
Bill Gates marched into his office, once again internally gloating at all of those who had called him nerd and dismissed him so easily.
It's good to be the King", he exulted.
Posted by: Gahrie at June 16, 2005 8:52 PM · Permalink