God is Ready to Help Someone Connected with This Address

I have received a missive from the Lord. It was in the mailbox between the National Geographic and the tax statement for my IRA:



MY HOME FIRST! to receive God's blessings, as loaned to me from a "very old church."

Now, I don't know what you think of when you think of a very old church, but I think:



You know, at least a thousand years old.

So I opened up the letter and immediately had to take an Advil. I'm affected that way by Random Capitalization, excessive use of bold and underlining, and misuse of commas. Plus, the letter writer KEEPS YELLING AT ME.



Then I find out that God doesn't even know my name is Occupant.



And the definition of "very old" is 57. I can't wait to tell Dad he nearly qualifies.

Here's the dealio: inside the envelope is a folded 11" x 17" sheet printed to look something like an oriental rug. A representation of Jesus is in the center. His eyes are closed. I'm supposed to look at his eyes and relax and suddenly I will see the eyes open and look back at me. This is not because Jesus has been drawn like one of those Magic Eye posters - this is because "This St. Matthew 18:19 Bible Prayer Rug is Soaked with the Power of Prayer for you." If I kneel on it and pray alone, check off on a form what I prayed for, and return the rug and form (along with my donation-this is an important point) within 24 hours, my prayer will be answered. Testimonials of healed legs and monetary windfalls ensue.

Here's the form:



It's a little small, so you can click through to a larger version, upon which you will see that one can pray for their soul, for their health, to stop a bad habit, for a new car, or for a specific amount of money, among other somewhat self-centered things. I noticed right away that world peace, the eradication of childhood sexual abuse, yellowcake uranium, one ring to rule them all, and "Jesus Christ, somebody please stop the f'in Patriots" are not on the list, possibly because the form could easily fall into the wrong hands.

After I put the prayer rug and my requests in the mail, I can open this sealed prophecy from the Lord about my future.



I note with approval that God seals his prophecies with clear mailing tabs instead of the white ones.

It's not for me, though. I have carefully folded up all this holy copy paper and returned everything to the envelope. I will carry it to K. on Super Bowl Sunday, and we will argue over who gets the one-time-use prayer rug - he wants plutonium, and I want the Giants to stop the f'in Patriots.

Time Sink

If you've got time to kill - or if you're like me and will fritter away hours even if you don't got time to kill - check out the Traveler IQ games. After making it through all 12 levels, my new goal is to break 700,000. The flag one is fun too, but I gotta warn you about Oceania.

Ladies Who Lunch (And One Gent)

I really wish I had a better background than my neighbors' dingy old trucks.

This is better:



And here's the ladies' escort:

Under Construction

New blog.

Primary

Rumi for Your Mid-Week: Let's Go Home

Late and starting to rain, it's time to go home.
We've wandered long enough in empty buildings.
I know it's tempting to stay and meet those new people.
I know it's even more sensible
to spend the night here with them,
but I want to go home.

We've seen enough beautiful places with signs on them
saying This is God's house.
That's seeing the grain like the ants do,
without the work of harvesting.
Let's leave grazing to cows and go
where we know what everyone really intends,
where we can walk around without clothes on.

-- Translated by Coleman Barks