I arrived at the door. The lettering had been changed to say “Jeff Christ”. Jeff opened it before I could knock.
“Paul, dude, welcome back! I’m glad you decided to show up!” He said this as though he weren’t the Almighty, and as though I actually had a choice. It’s kind of like going drinking with your boss: You have to pretend you’d be there whether he was the boss or not.
“Um … the name on the door … ”
“Oh yeah, a little joke. Since I’m the father of Jesus Christ, you know. We should have the same last name. Pretty funny, eh?”
“Mm. Yep, pretty funny. Before we start, I wanted to get something out in the open. I never supply my interviewees with my questions ahead of time, so you can’t be pulling any mind-reading shit. Um … that is … if that’s okay with you.”
God looked sad. “Paul, please. We won’t get anywhere if you only say or do what’s okay with me. I want you to speak your mind just like I’m any asshole. And I promise … no mind-reading shit. Please have a seat.”
I sat on the rock and roll couch, and pulled out my notebook. In this day of digital voice recorders, and phones that do everything, I still like to scratch out shorthand in my notebook. It just seems more reliable. I had a few questions, but I might as well start at the one that’s bugging me the most.
“Okay, God … I mean, Jeff. I had always thought that it was just the ruling class that had decided you were a white male. Yet here you are, choosing to appear to me as a white male. What do you really look like?”
The Supreme Being thought for a moment, then said, “All right. I had promised myself that I would answer all questions truthfully, damn the consequences, so here goes: This is what I look like. I really am a white male. And let me tell you right now that it pisses me off that all those dumbasses are right. I was considering appearing to you as a black lesbian – just to fuck with them – but there you have it. Old white male.
“However, I will go on record as saying that I do NOT love one race, gender, or sexual orientation over another. Everybody has just as much capacity to be good, evil, or asshat as the next person!”
He sat back, making a visible effort to calm himself. “Sorry to start off with a rant, Paul: Pet peeve. I’ll try to stay off my soapbox as much as I can.”
The fact that I was able to get the Lord of Light to apologize to me right off the bat, helped to remove some of my nervousness. This was just another interview with just another ego.
“No worries. So to follow up, you really did create Adam in your image?”
“Dude, hell no! Adam was black. I mean, African American. Is it okay to say ‘black’ these days?”
“Trust me, I’ll be editing this carefully.”
“Thanks, Paul. I trust you. I’d really hate to give those white supremacist assholes any ammunition.”
You know, I was starting to enjoy this. Yahweh-or-the-highway was actually kind of fun. “Okay, Jeff, Why did you decide to do this interview now? Is there something going on in the world that made you decide now was the right time?”
The old All-Glorious leaned forward. “Dude, it’s simple. In no other time has there been so much bullshit said and done in my name. It’s time to clear the air. ‘God Hates Fags’. Like, what the fuck is that about? What could possibly be ambiguous about ‘Love thy neighbour’?
“Of course, a large portion of the blame belongs to the jerk-offs who wrote the books of the bible. Sister, I’ve never seen such a collection of excrement.”
Shit. There goes all my research.