Actual Proof that I am God.
A Scientific Look at Fundamentalist Deification
Bet you never thought God was this good-looking!
Hi, my name is Jeremiah Thornton, and I've just recently found out that I am, in fact, the Supreme Creator of the Entire Planet Earth and Everything on it. Now, I know this may be a bit surprising, considering your backwards theological training and the pervasive "Feel-Good" ethics of modern Pop Culture, but bear with me for a moment, and I'm sure you, too, will come to realize that I am, in fact, the All-Powerful, All-Knowing, All-Seeing Creator of Everything in the Universe, including you and your little dog Fifi (the last of which I regret - I didn't get the ears quite right, and it's too small and yapping. In retrospect, I should have made it a cat.)
The Beginning of the Revelation
Well, it all started quite innocently. I was paging through my Old Testament at Breakfast one day (as I am wont to do - I always loved the parts about the Wrath of God being poured out on its pre-chosen vessels - namely, the Canaanites and their modern-day descendants in the Popular Music Business), when it struck me - Man, am I in touch with the Heart of God or what? I mean, a lot of people out there think they know what's up with God these days, and what His mind is on any issue, but I know what's going on. Just look at the Bible if you don't believe me - I mean, I've got it all down, man. I had all my ducks in a row doctrinally - nobody could dare argue with me when it came to the meaning of the Bible, sure sure. But it goes beyond that - into something deeper. In order to really become one with the Heart of God, you've got to take that extra step into something more deep and meaningful - Something extra-biblical. (Or more precisely, super-Biblical!)
That's when I started to hear the voices.
At first, I thought they were demons taunting me with the false-doctrine bandied about by the Charismatic churches of my local chapter (which had caused me to flee from that church with my family, lest we too be tainted with their false teachings). I mean, these voices were obviously babbling jibberish, and were clearly the production of a Counterfeit form of spirituality. Well, said I, we'll just show these voices who's boss. I got out my Bible and my John Calvin theological dictionary, and I proceeded to do battle with these messengers from the Dark Side. Clearly, S8an was trying to keep me from a revelation of the great import, I knew - and I must banish his forces from me, just as the New Model Army (Led by that Great Puritan Leader Oliver Cromwell) had banished those Papists and their Presbyterian lackeys during the Great War of 1653.
Now naturally, during a period of great spiritual warfare, one's external form can be a bit disconcerting to the uninitiated or female among us. My wife Beth became afraid of me and locked herself in the bedroom for two solid days, in a clear challenge to my beard-given headship (more on that later). I tried to explain to her that this was outside of the Will of God for her life, and that she was risking the flames of hellfire, but it didn't seem to convince her to come out of the room. It's a pity that those of us with the most Truth often suffer the most, and my marital martyrdom further assured me that my actions, though painful to myself, were for the betterment of her soul. Thankfully, this period of marital conflict was brought to a close with the birth of our 12th child, Samuel. She tried to birth the boy all by herself in the bedroom (just like a foolish beardless woman), but eventually the midwives managed to jimmy the lock - and Samuel was brought into the world. Praise Me for My Providence!
After Beth came back out and saw the error of her disobedience and unbelief, I found that I could control the voices much better. She has since behaved much more as a wife should, and even manages to help me continue the creation of God's Children while the children milk the livestock in the evening, though all the weight she's gained recently makes me kind of disgusted with the task (Mental Note: Make Myself a set of Blonde Supermodel Twins). But hey - we'll soon have our 13th! I'm so lucky that I created her - sometimes I'd like to just hug myself! What a woman! Some women would have keeled over dead at 12, just like John Calvin said they should - but not Beth! She's on to 13 without a stop. Praise be to Me!
The Voices Speak Clearly
As I said, the voices became more controllable and S8an's plan failed. For now I could understand what they said! The devil had simply been jamming them, much like his "Sporting Events" block out the Vespers and other hymnal services that could otherwise be received by our home radio - the children are always so disappointed when those hymns are cut out for s8anic baseball, which only encourages violence and war-mongering. I prayed daily to myself that none of my children will fall into the trap of Sports, and so far - I have answered my prayers, for they are all too scrawny and socially inept to ever be chosen for even a soccer team. Praise be to Me!
The voices were really the messages of Angels! They were trying to get through to me all this time and Satan had jammed them out. It was sort of like the Big Boss's phone being off the hook for a long time - messages had backed up for thousands of years (Which were apparently all the same as a day or an hour to Me). For a long time, in fact, I had to deal with the obscure problems of the Chaldeans and the Hittites (I chose to smite the Hittites because of their pagan non-Me centered rituals). About March I had worked My way up into the iron age and made sure that Caligula got it for his naughtiness (Boy did that give Me some royal satisfaction, let me tell you!). After awhile of this, I got to know most of the angels pretty well. Gabriel is an even nicer guy than the Bible makes him out to be - although he's not a very good golfer.
About the end of last week I made it up into the 20th Century, and boy what a mess those Earthlings made of it, let me tell you - not listening to my divine plan! I was so frustrated with it that I ended up spanking Ezekiel for an extra 4 minutes last Thursday. He probably deserved it for something, though - those 15 year olds can get out of hand in a hurry if you don't assert your authority over them.
What I've Learned Doctrinally from Being God
I expect this is the first question people will ask Me, once I set up my 1-900 number, so I'd better get to the main points of it right away. Naturally, since I've only known that I'm God for a few months, this list is sort of short. I hope to get more of My thoughts up here as soon as the 1-900 business can take off and I can quite my job to devote full-time to my Deification.
The Beard is an essential symbol of Godly Authority. Now, I know you may think that beards are just facial hair, but boy could you possibly even be more wrong! Beards are a symbol of My authority on earth. By growing one, a man is claiming is rightful role as the Head of the Family and the Head of the Woman. The fact that I have such a good, thick beard is assuredly because I am the Divine One. All my male children (and the two oldest females, Leah and Esther) have thick beards as well (although the girl's beards are naturally thinner and weaker, just as their authority and mental capacity are both thinner and weaker).
Four of My Sons, complete with their Beards of Headship.
Divorced People are Of the Devil. Now, back before I found out that I was God, I thought that maybe I shouldn't be making decisions on other people's lives like this. But, thankfully, with the realization of Divinity, I have easily lost all those doubts. Hey, who are they to put asunder what I put together!? I mean, come one people - listen to Me when I'm talking to you. One marriage for one lifetime - it's not so hard to do that math! I don't care why the woman left you, if you hadn't shaved your beard, she'd have listened to you! Headship failure is no excuse for it, and Paul was just being a sissy by trying to let you non-males off the hook. Cheating, battering, abuse - none of it is an excuse! I've pre-destined the two of you to be together, who are you to challenge My authority, mortal man?? I am safe in the knowledge that Beth can never ever leave me, not even after she caught me with that Vietnamese whore back before our first child was born. If your spouse leaves you because your shoes are the wrong color - that's too bad for you, but don't you dare re-marry. The only real healing solution for you is a life of uninterrupted solitude and self-immolation. Unfortunately, namby-pamby weaklings out there (most of whom are beard-less) have been pushing for "love" and "kindness" with regards to couples who have re-married. I have been forced to smite them, and all who sympathize with them - even my oldest daughter Lavinia! Hey, God doesn't play favorites!
I am Never Wrong. Well, this goes without saying. I'm God and you can't disagree with Me. You'd end up doomed to eternal Hell, where there is much gnashing of teeth and assorted types of Brimstone. You don't want that do you? DO YOU?? Well good. Then do what your Heavenly Father tells you, and eat those green beans.
Nothing is funny. Ever. Laughter and glee should only be allowed among the very young, who naturally know no better because By My Wisdom, I haven't even given them the ability to control their body functions yet. (Man, I love the little children so much, that I'll have mercy on them.) But everyone else - no Mirth! None allowed! One more chuckle out of you and I'll stare you down with the legendary Googley Eyes of the Lord that were spoken of so frequently in the lost Gospel of Bart.
Personal Dislikes of Mine are the Equivalent of Doctrine. This is another one that I kind of got "for free" when I became God. It's a nice way to put some more oomph behind the "Because I said so" line that most parents have to resort to with their kiddies. It doesn't matter what the issue is - even if it's Greek (God doesn't speak Greek, currently, but He'll learn it when He has time). I don't care what the problem is - I'll meet you with a condescending smile and a stream of pure logic that your pathetic, earthbound brain won't be able to parse. You don't know what I know. I'm on the inside, buddy. You shouldn't even attempt to argue with me, but if you do, I'd suggest asking the mountains to fall on you, lest My wrath consume you (Or at least my personal jabs! Hee hee!).
People who Interrupt Me are going to Hell. Hey, why shouldn't they? They have nothing important to add to what I'm saying anyway - I mean, I always speak perfect wisdom. They should shut up and listen to it - that's about the only way they'd learn anything anyway. My children originally were like that, too! Yap yap yap! But a few lessons with the old birch whip has taught them to speak when spoken to. Now if only the others would learn from their example!
John Calvin is my Left-Hand Man. Since he helped me realize My divinity, I decided to thank him by putting him on my left hand, where all those apostles argued about sitting. Of course, Good Ol' J-Dawg (That's what I call him when we play 3-on-3 basketball together) knew that was gonna happen way back when! I may upgrade him to the right-hand, since My Son has been disgracing me lately with all that talk of mercy and redemption. Calvin knew better than to buy that garbage - he saw right through it! That definitely makes him superior to that other kid. I mean, really! I meant for Jesus to be a conqueror of people - a regular murderer and pillager. All this kind-ness and loving is what made those stupid weaklings like Gandhi and Mother Theresa tick (Secret Universalists that they were!). No sir, It's gonna be John Calvin determining who is redeemed and who isn't from now on! If I left Jesus in charge, I'd just get a lot of rifraff in here. Besides, Heaven isn't really as big as all those idiots thought it was - there's really only room for me and a select few. Sort of like one of them islands in the South pacific.
Conclusion
Anyway, I'd feel pretty bad for you pathetic fools who will never grasp the inner beauty of American Fundamentalism, except that then I remembered that I made you that way, and that you have no free will in the matter! Ha ha ha! I'm such a kidder when I do things like that! Sucks to be a pre-destined vessel of wrath, I bet, but oh well - at least you get to drive a nice car and all that silly American stuff. It's not like those Bangladeshis - boy did I give them a rough time, huh? A life of misery followed by eternal damnation. Oh well - I can always make some more. Ya gotta break a few eggs to make an omelet, right?