An Open Reply to God

God without the dess, No, I’m sorry. I can’t buy your medicine today. Your suggestions might be fine for the so-called Garden, but I think you’re too little too late. Too much has gone down since those edenic days: like the assembly line, division of labor, and whatnot. It’s just not that simple, and oh if it were. Meanwhile global warming is taking care of any apocalyptic vision you may have once had and when that cat-7 comes slouching this way no little house on the prairie is going to advance that zygote one iota. No, we’re all in this forever and together, and you know you’re somewhat to blame as well as the rest of us. Your egotistical insistence on being the walking one and only ain’t helping us you know. We seem to think that nature is the enemy but that little guy pogo from a long ways back had it right. We have met the enemy and he is us. Well, your priests and I’d say priestesses but ever since you killed the goddesses, well you botched that one too. No, things are bit too complicated down here for that kind of innocence. Not that it isn’t important and righteous and necessary and healthy and soulful and life-confirming amen. But the first thing we got to do is get rid of you my friend. You’re a bad illusion. Oh, we’ll keep the mystery and spirit and soul. We’re just throwing out that dirty bathwater of paternalistic western anti-nature monotheistic hogwash that’s destroying Mother Earth. We’ll keep Henry and Black Elk and others of that ilk. Look, don’t take it personally, OK. It’s not like I’m saying you’re dead or anything. I’m just saying what you were saying. The grass is god. And the winds are god. And the rivers and the oceans and the sky. And me and you and he and she. And it. No, not it. There are no its. No more objectifying anything. Everything is a subject, and it’s name is God.