The Gospel According to Gomer
My ass is grass. I'm going down. I'm hurting from parts of my body I didn't even know existed. Dudes (an dudesses), my body hurts. My hands hurt and right now, my ears feel like I just got beat with a club. My feet hurt. My left-lower quadrant hurst and all my life I have been a figher, but this one is gonna beat me. I don't like admitting this one bit. I can't hardly sleep, my immunie system is putting up this heroic fight and I'm drenched with sweat and I'm hot, then I'm cold then I'm hot. I'm cold so I pull on blankets then next thing you know I'm hot so I pull them off and the next thing I'm freezing. It's feaking tiresome. And this whole business of hurting from places you didn't know you had? That's just downright unfair IMO. How can you hurt from places you didn't even know you had?
But good things are happening. In some ways, the best things. In a way, life is better for me now that it ever has been. And I'll tell you the truth: I wouldn't trade this for nothing. This is the Gospel according to Gomer.
You know what scares me more than my condition? The cure. They want to pump me full of this highly toxic crap, but don't worry, they have drugs to counter the side-effects, and they have a whole battery of drugs to counter-act those side effects, and a whole slew more to counter the side effects of the side effects. And I say no. No way. Not only can I not afford it, who in the world would want to pay for that? I think Pfeizer and Merk see a hefty quarterly increase in profits by wringing me out like a towel.
Meanwhile, I got the Christians and the Jehova's Whitnesses describing in Nth detail exactly what's going to happen to me on a highly mechanical level. Some crazy sh*t about second death and lamp-stands or something. Gods these people can talk you to death. I just gotta laugh at this point. My frist death was seeing my first wife and a whole slew of brothers go down like grass. My next death is this disease. Now these religous people are talking me to death, so I guess I'm about to face my third death and then they are telling me there's a second death (for non-believers) which will be my third or fourth. As far as I'm aware, I only had one life! Or to be more precise, half a life!
How many times do you have to die for one life? And do I get a discount if I only used half of it? Is there some kind of rebate program here? Or is there an aftermarket for the other half? Anybody want the rest? I swear I didn't touch it.
And with all of these gloomy religious people moping around, who'd even want to stick around? Seriously, these guys make everything sound so bad, I can't even figure out why they can suffer to live. They make death sound so unattractive, it almost just bums me out. I'm like "what's the point of living?"
I've found the answer. Christians are the second death. And if that don't do the trick, they'll kill you with kindness. They'll kill you again and again just to prove the point. And the only people more miserable then them are the JWs. They'll kill you a thousand times just to show that they are right. I think the JWs want ressurection just so they can kill everybody again in fulfillment of prophecy. Just so all their Is are dotted and their Ts are crossed. Just so they can run up and say "see? I was right the whole time and now your ass is dead". OK, so tell me something I don't know already.
I personally want an alternative, so I created one. So here's the Gospel of the Appostle Gomer:
You had a life, and you got it for free. God put you on a place where you had everything you needed, and he paints a picture in the morning sky and in the sunset that says "I love you". Each time we wake up and each time we go to sleep, we have a special message from creator that says "I love you".
If heaven turns out to be full of these self-righteous morons, I'm just glad there's an alternative. Let them sit around for eternity and argue about the nature of what they see before their eyes. Maybe hell is full of people who are totally psyched and heaven is for people who want to argue about the nature of reality. Even when they have none.
And in asfar as blasphemy of the Holy Spirit goes, I honestly think that a Holy God can take a joke, and His Holy Spirit ought to be capable of laughing it off. After all, He knows the number of hairs on our head. I didn't put this fire in my eyes, it came from creator. He knows everything I have said, everything I'm gonna say and everything I'll leave unsaid. He gave us language for this very purpose, and a mouth to frame the language, and a brain to form the intention and a whole fancy support system to drive the whole apparatus which we know as planet Earth.
So this is what I consider to be blasphemy of the Holy Spirit: arguing and fighting about God. Wasting a life fighting with His people. Going around telling people they are wrong and they are going to suffer. I swear, this must be the reason people build houses, to cut off the sunset so people can't see this tremendous sky-painting that creator advertizes daily, the big "I love you" in the sky, so they can tell you about how bad everything is and how bad you are and how people should be so damn sorry about every damn thing.
Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn. Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry. Damn sorry. Meanwhile, here's God painting "I love you" in the morning and in the evening. Every single one. Through your life, through the ones that came before, and to my knowledge, every single one that comes after, whether you are here to groove on it or not, will be a love-note from creator, whether you have eyes to see or not.
God is love. He says so twice a day. No matter who you are or what you believe in, God says he loves you and all life twice per day, and probably more, and perhaps it's just my limitations that keep me from seeing this. I'm apparently dense, and only have optical sensors with a limited spectrum-capability, so I can only see so many colors.
And here's where my gospel gets a bit sketchy, this is the beta-model of my next gospel:
I believe there are other colors. I postulate the colors zula and pinkle and froup. Pinkle you can actually see in the coulds, but you have to spend some time at it. If you can see blue, purple and pink, pinkle is right in there. It's something you can see, but you almost don't know unless you are really, really looking.
Pinkle is more like a feeling than a color. Pinkle-perception is at the outermost range of our sensibilities. You have to be in the right mood. Therefore do we know that our attitude influences our perceptual capability.
Zula is somewhere on the x-bandwidth, and it's like blue, but you can actually smell it. Froup is what attracts deer to rise in the early morning and feed in pastures, because you can only see froup in the early morning half-light, which makes sense if you think about it, because when the other spectra come in, it's too bright to see froup. And that's why you don't see deer feeding in pastures in the daylight. The color froup induces hunger in deer. Zula? I'm not sure what the color zula is good for, and that's why we weren't given optical sensors capable of picking it up. I think zula is reserved for future use. When you don't have eyes, you will be able to see zula.
And you know where I'm going with this one, don't you?
Next time, my friend. Next time, next place, you will be able to see the color zula. It's like blue, but it has a smell. I think it smells something like lilacs or perhaps lavender. But again, this is the postulate of the Appostle Gomer and I could easily be wrong about that. As I often am.
And so you have received the full teaching of the appostate Appostle. I'm the only Appostle who will freely admit that I'm usually wrong, or maybe just off-target, but I'll do something no other Appostle does, which is tell you that every other Appostle before me had an attitide, that we are egotistical, and maybe everything we said had a personal motive, which means you should view us with a certain suspicion. After all, who needs explanation and esoterics when God paints "I love you" in the sky each morning and each evening of your life?
And I'll tell you another thing for nothing, for no money: all other Appostles before me were ugly. I am very good looking. The ones before me were unattractive to human eyes to tell you that the beauty is God, not us. I am the attractive and svelt Appostle, which is intended to fool you, to trick you, to sell you a sham. To tell you that it's all clever marketing. Just another trick to take your eyes off the sunrise and sunset. How long are you people going to fall for the same trick?
Who you gonna trust? Me or God? My advice is to forget you even heard this, forget you even knew me, I'd go with that big sky-painting and forget about me and the Appostles. Frankly, all I'm doing is wasting your time. You should be out there looking at pinkle and wondering about the other colors and when and how you will have eyes to see them when you don't have eyes anymore, and how pretty they will look. Pinkle is purty. When I see pinkle reflected on you in the moring and the evening, you are purty to my eyes. Then I can see a holy and loving God reflected right into my optical sensors. Joseph had a coat painted with many colors. Scripture wants to have you believe this made him unique. It ain't so. You are all the people painted with many colors. You wear coats of many colors. Even ones you can't see. That's what you do. Just by being you.
Therefore do I know that you no longer need religion or prophets or appostles. If this were not the case, I'd be rich and driving a Lotus-car. You people would fall down at my feet and worship me and throw money and prizes at me.
See, maybe I was delivered to be your next hippie-love-god. A cult leader sin-qua-non. But you folks are outgrowing it. A day late and a dollar short. You aren't buying it anymore. And that, kittens, is a good thing.
So I'll pray for you:
Ho, God, I am so ready. I pray that you let the people's eyes be opened to the sunrise and sunset, and I pray that you let them learn that they don't need Appostles anymore, that they have everything they need, because You made them everything and everything they need. Both for themselves and each other. And let them remember that they don't die and don't need to be afraid and that there are so many things to look forward to when they die. So many colors and fragrances, most of which are pleasant. We only fart when we live. Most other frangrances are pleasant, and farting is inherantly humorous, and just another way you tell us the true nature of reality.
In other words, our shit only stinks while we are here. Next time, our shit won't stink because...
(drum roll)
We won't eat. (shebang!) We will no longer consume other life forms to sustain ourselves. And this, kittens, is why our shit stinks. And therefore does every being know that life is simple and patently imperfect. In other words, it's not the be-all and end-all of existance. Frankly, you are born to die. The minute you are born, you start dying, and everybody wants to avoid it and cover it up and offer explanations, and the demons come in with fear and lies and they try to tell you that this place and this experience is worth fighting over. And it's a big fat hoax.
And this is the disposable, disreguardable teaching of the Appostle Gomer. The instructions are to throw this teaching out and stop this business of who's right and who's wrong. It's not even worth the time you just spent reading it. Because you already know all this.
and this has been
THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO Gomer
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