A conversation with my brother:
Me: The classic yeshivish argument is that God is good because look at everything he does for us. Why would he create us out of nothing and give us watermelon and babes and sunshine, right? That’s probably what philosopher cows think too. “This is the life. Hanging with my cows, eating grass, banging other cows, I’m blessed.” They don’t realize the whole thing’s a set up to go to the great circular saw in the sky.
Brother: So God’s harvesting us.
Me: Yeah, you don’t know. He puts nice things here to ease it along for us. He has his own evil reasons. He loves eating souls, but he doesn’t like them plain. That’d be like cannibalism to him, right? They need to be matured and seasoned here first. Sometimes he likes happy ones, sometimes vicious ones, sometimes he likes depressed, sometimes tough with a pain-filled gooey middle.
Brother: You’re out of your mind. Who the hell thinks of these kinds of things? OK, so God’s doing all this, why do you care? If you’re a smart cow, you just enjoy life as it goes along, and who the heck cares about what happens when you die?
Me: That’s true. That would be the smart way to look at things, I just can’t. I’m too involved with the whole afterlife idea. I mean life sucks here if you think about it. You build up a life and then it’s slowly pulled away from you. You’re body breaks down, your friends die, you can’t eat. Eventually, you’re stuck in a home with tubes inserted to keep stuff going in and out, and the highlight of your day is if the Jamaican nurse says hello to you that day while cleaning you up. Oh- that’s if you don’t get shut down by a horrible disease first. I mean, my life sucks right now. If I got cancer or something, I’d quit right then. No cut-out tongue or whatever. “Itche’s battling cancer.” Fuck that. Battle over, you win. I’m outta here.
Brother: Yeah, I guess that’s true. That’s why you have to believe in it. Then everything is worth it.
Me: I don’t think so. I mean, I would if I could, really. It just doesn’t work. I really think if God exists, he has some other purpose for all of us. You know, his own purpose.
Brother: Right, he’s eating our souls.
Me: *laughing* Exactly!…Hey, it’s just as likely, right? You agree.
Brother: No, because God is up there and all-knowing and all-powerful, and if he does have this evil purpose, why would I want to piss him off?
Me: What’s the worst that could happen? This place is a hell-hole as it is. So what, I get 11 months in hell? It’s 11 months. I’ll be boiling in semen for 11 months. I’ve had worse.
Brother: *laughs* It’s always semen for some reason, right? Where are they getting all that semen? *laughs* Well, why don’t you just imagine he’s good? It’s the better half of the equation here, and you have a good chance it’s all worth it.
Me: That’s good for you. I heard the Baal Shemtov said God acts towards you like you act towards him. So you have your own reality and I have mine, and they’re both true.
Brother: Yeah, but yours sucks. Why wouldn’t you act towards him my way?
Me: He’d know I was lying.
Me: Seriously, I have my own relationship with God. Everybody else sees him as the good king, and they come and ask him to help them out. Or, other people- atheists, right- are, like, warring against him, trying to pull him off the throne. I’m like the court jester. I’m with God in his court all the time, and I know he’s a putz. But God keeps me around because I’m entertaining. All the other people are there begging and whatever and God has to be serious and always play the game with them, even though secretly, he’s just keeping them going for his secret plan. He has nobody who gets him. That’s why I’m there. People come in and say things like, “Oh, Lord, open your hand and satisfy-” and I just cut them off with really loud fart noises. And God is pretending he’s angry with me, and like, “Don’t be afraid of him, my precious daughter. Continue.” But secretly, he’s laughing his ass off.
Brother: You hope.
Me: Well, he hasn’t killed me yet. Right? I’m still here.
Brother: Thank God.
Me: Sometimes, I can get this Zen moment where I see someone like failing horribly, like, life just keep falling on him, divorce, you know, losing his job. And he gets back up and then gets cancer- and there’s nothing I can possibly do, so that biological “help” mechanism isn’t automatically engaged- like, situations where I’d usually go “Oy, terrible.” Now, something just clicks the thought rail-road tracks in my brain onto this other path, and I just pull out of the human view, and into the God-eyed view, and I just can’t stop laughing at how fucking funny it is. This whole playground of people wandering around, pushing against an empty wheel with all their might.
Brother: *laughing* And that’s your spiritual moment. Man, you’re so messed up.