Oh Lord Two

Oh Lord - Scroll Two


(June 2021 earth calendar)

    (Father and Son had finished their previous meeting in time for lunch in November. Time sort of ran away with them. Jesus had been golfing while Father took a six-month nap).

    ‘OK, where were we last time??’ asked Jesus.

    'The moon had just escaped a conquering I believe.’

    ‘Oh yes. The other-world, cosmic adventures of the humans, undertaken with timidity and distinct lack of success on occasion, leads sweetly on to our hypotheses as to why things are deteriorating so alarmingly with the humans.’

    Jesus looked out of the window lost in thought. The Lord waited patiently as his son obviously battled his demons. Dad was sympathetic because he could well understand the pressure of developing a civilization. In actual fact, Jesus’ mind was elsewhere. He couldn’t shake the horrors of his golf practice which culminated in a shot that fired off, inexplicably, at right angles, felling a horse in an adjacent meadow. Thankfully the beast recovered but when asked by friend and fellow swinger, Peter Apostlethwaite, how his practice had gone, Jesus replied simply, ‘Mare!’

    The Lord coughed politely to return his son from wherever his mind had gone.

    ‘Oh, sorry father. Yes. I was about to tell you of the human’s nemesis. It transpires they have invented something called the internet. Basically, it’s a conduit along which bad news and non-intellectual garbage can circulate the globe at the speed of light. Our observers tell me, for I have neither the capacity nor will to understand the concept, that it has the potential to do some good. Unfortunately, it appears to be have taken on a persona of its own. It’s not easy to figure out who’s in charge but from what we can see it appears to be presided over by something called Karen, based in a cave in Scarborough, a settlement which unfortunately finds itself in the gloomy territory of Yorkshire. This Karen creature appears to have the ability to manipulate and alter human minds. Whenever anybody enters the internet room, not only does their personality change, they also lose whatever common sense they may have had when they arrived. It seems that humans send meaningless words and phrases on an uncharted course to be received by anyone who’s front gate happens to be open at that particular moment.

    As far as we can see, the collective noun for this huge mass of words is drivel. Presumably there is a drivel depository somewhere. Humans gaze into the 'manufactured matrix of mayhem' (namely the internet) through what we believe are plasma-boxes. They delve into this mystical library of drivel, gather words, assemble them in random order and fire them off into the unknown. The only precondition of these messages is that must be utterly meaningless. Should anything logical actually appear, so endangering the integrity of the drivel, it is immediately dispatched by something called a moderator, who we think is one of a group of umpires carefully monitored by Karen. We have discussed this at length and one theory is that a large proportion of humans are trying to attain the same level of intellect as a sponge. With success in some quarters it has to be said.

    It’s a pity really because the vocabulary developed by humans over the centuries, in different languages too, could be used for works of beauty and interest. In fact, till quite recently it was. Sadly, it’s all been hijacked by the majority Cretin tribe. Nobody seems to know the origin of the Cretins, save to say that, thanks to the internet, they have spread at lightening speed to inhabit every corner of planet earth. They have developed into a powerful, if dim, body. I say 'developed', regressed may be more accurate.

    And, Father, it gets worse. Not only is the internet mentally divisive, but it’s also not much good physically either. We have numerous reports of humans sitting before their plasma light boxes for days on end. Their deportment is something similar to that witnessed after particularly intense battles during the religious conflicts. Humans stare into the middle distance and mumble, as if their spirit is gone and they have lost the will to live, rather like the humans we witnessed from Lancashire.

    Furthermore, because they sit upright for lengthy periods, any loose flesh, pectorals and bosoms for example, drift south. It all ends up in a soggy mess around the lower torso / hip area. One of our researchers described these plasma-box devotees as, and I quote, ‘flabby digital flies trapped in a specious, synthetic web suspended in a counterfeit world.’ I gave Paul the morning off for that effort.

    Another downside to this internet phenomenon is happening as we speak. Remember we sent them a pandemic a while back? Nothing earth-ending, nastier than some they’ve had for sure but not something that warranted the reaction it got. We allowed those bats to escape and before you know it there’s planet-wide panic. Thanks to the web, human’s response has gone far and above anything sensible. The problem is that, via the internet, one individual can fire something off into the ether. It may arrive, seemingly at random, in the plasma-box of any number of humans. It takes only a few others to get steamed up and send it to all their friends. This happens again and again. One becomes ten, becomes a hundred and so on. Before your toast has popped up a million people, in numerous regions, are banned from going for a haircut.

    Can you make sense of it father, because I can’t? The frightening thing is that the first message in this pandemic pyramid may be erroneous! It may be nothing more than the product of some lunatic’s imagination, in fact, the number 500,000 appeared to have been plucked from the ether and that set the whole thing off. Compounding the felony, humans would rather soak up tasty tittle-tattle than listen to anything remotely logical. Once these falsehoods are ingrained in the human grey matter, it appears there is no reversing the process.

    Finally, Father, as I know it’s getting time for your next nap, I’d like to bring to your attention the incredible goings on as one region, a very large one and supplosedly civilized, tries to elect a new leader. If you put it on the stage nobody would believe it. On the one hand, in the nutty corner if you will, we have the present incumbent who won some sort of popular vote a while ago. He’s an extraordinary specimen who is independently wealthy – of material things, as opposed to cerebral. He makes regular, unintelligible proclamations from his Oval Orifice.' Jesus smiles to himself, 'yes, some wag changed office into orifice, which is clever and wholly appropriate. Though I remain non-judgemental, the odd gem floats up here and I get pleasure from the fact that we've at least created something vaguely immaginative. Anyhow, the lunatic also enjoys golf, as do I, but he takes it to the extreme. Can you believe, he wears a divot on his head. Quite a fashion statement I can tell you. It flaps about in the breeze like the opening and closing of a clam. His electoral opponent is a man nearly as old as you Father. He appears to struggle to remain awake and sometimes it’s possible to see the strings that his ‘advisors’ use to manipulate him. Frankly the whole debacle is rather embarrassing for such a large, conspicuous region, especially as it considers itself superior to everywhere else.

    I could go on Father but just as a final point we have studied the fuel the humans use to move, if they can drag themselves away from their plasma boxes. We gave them a wonderful assortment of fresh vegetables, fruit and meat in many forms. Sadly, a small fraction, proportionately, is eaten as intended. In other words, if they ate decent stuff we could tell what they are eating by the shape of the item and it's odour, rather like Eve’s first apple, but not as sinister. However, increasingly they take these lovely raw ingredients, evolved over millions of years, mash them up and add all sorts of detritus. The resulting mush is then re-formed into a new shape and called something else. A hamburger for example usually contains beef, not ham. And ‘burger’ is derived from the word for a wealthy medieval citizen. The whole thing is enclosed in two halves of an artificial bread and padded out with noxious pickles. The taste is screened by a mixture of sauces which are by-products of various industrial processes. The last thing a discerning medieval noble would be seen eating is revolting mishmash like that. Or me I might add!

    In fact, what they’ve done is create the archetypal vicious circle. They eat these nutritionally bereft concoctions so have to supplement their intake with tonne upon tonne of various extra vitamins and potions. Then they get ill and have to take medicines and balms manufactured for eye-watering profits by enormous chemical companies. Its just like a huge, revolting whirlpool spinning slowly in the cosmos. It’s hardly surprising that so many arrive at our front gate looking like they’re about to explode.

    So, that’s it for now Father. To sum up, if nothing else, the experiment is fascinating. I think it’s fair to say that when things were left in peace to develop and evolve they produced some wondrous specimens. As I say, the problem came when we introduced humans. They’re making a right god’s breakfast of it. We’ve concluded that there may be less than an earth’s century left for the experiment at its present rate of self-destruction. It’s alarming, but there it is.

    ‘Jesus Christ.’ Said The Lord. ‘Mary’s going to be furious. She’s just bought a ruck of shares in GlaxoSmithKline.’

    ‘Quite.’ Replied Jesus.

    Please click the lnk below for Scroll Three


     © Marcus Cicero June 2021