Andy Akers (Ag-nostic)


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Let's see . . . you're looking for a writer's position here at the Institute. It says here (looking at resume written on the back of a napkin from the local tavern) that you're currently employed at a farm. Andy: Uh-huh. Chief: Are you going to keep working there while employed as a writer here? Andy: I reckon. Chief: Do you think that one job might interfere with the other? Andy: Goshdawg, I figger we'll see if that chick'n comes home to roost or not. Chief: Hmm . . . okay. What experience do you have as a writer? Andy: Heck, I do all sorts of writin' and cypherin' n such. I fill out the feed orders, and when we build somethin', I'm the one that puts the mark on the board as to where to hack it off at. Chief: Sounds challenging. Andy: Shootfire! I seen a guy lose a finger 'cause he put it where the mark wuz! Chief: Ouch! That must have hurt? Andy: How should I know? Didn't happen to me. Chief: I guess you're right about that. Andy: Uh-huh. He did look fit to be tied though. However, the boss had a bigger conniption cuz the finger caused us to cut the board slaunchways, and that threw the shack off all catty whompus. Chief: What other experience do you have? Andy: I can reattach a finger with a sharp pocket knife and some bailing wire. Chief: No, I mean as a writer. Andy: Oh. Well, I gots a sweetie in the next county and I writes her luv poems. Chief: Oh really? Andy: She's cuter'n a possum. She gots a sister uglier than sin and wolverine mean, though. In fact, her sister is so ugly she'd run a dog off'n a meat wagon. Wanna hear one? Chief: A poem? I . . . guess. Andy: Okay, it goes like this: Andy: Roses iz red, Andy: violets iz is blue. Andy: You're fine as frog's hair, Andy: and you make me happier than a gopher in soft dirt. Chief: That doesn't rhyme. Andy: Ain't s'pposta. It's so-fis-ti-kay-ted poetry. Chief: Oh, I see. Well, let's move beyond job experience and talk about you personally. Andy: Shoot. Chief: Okay, you know that we are a Christian publication? Andy: Heck, that don't bother me none. 'lest you start dancin' 'round me with rattlers n such. I might have to take offense to that. Chief: No problem - no snakes here. Andy: Cuz when we had that gully washer back in 87, all the snakes high-tailed it for the high land . . . Chief: Andy, we don't do the snake dance thing. Andy: and one crawled in the cot with me and ol' Blue, that's my dawg . . . Chief: Andy . . . Andy: and we were like two long tailed cats in a room full of rockin' chairs . . . Chief: ANDY! Andy: Wu-huh? Chief: We never have snakes in here - never. Andy: That's good, cuz snakes make me all jittery n such. Chief: (sigh) Alright, what is your view on God? Andy: Ain't got none, ain't never seen 'im. Chief: Well, you have to have an opinion. Andy: This is a free country mister; I ain't gotta do nuthin'! Chief: But you answered our ad for an agnostic writer. Andy: Yep, sure did alrighty. Chief: Hmmm . . . what does "agnostic writer" mean to you, Andy? Andy: 'tis simple as dirt; "ag" is fer agricultural person, that's me - "nostic" means no stick - and writer means one who does writin'. Chief: And what does all that fit in with the position here? Andy: I'll shell down the corn fer ya - When we's out on the range, sometimes we ain't got nuthin' to writes with to our hunnies. Chief: Go on . . . Andy: Well, in that case we burn the end of a stick. Then we gots somethin' to writes with. Chief: What does this do with "agnostic writer"? Andy: I figger a place that's gots plenty of pencils, and hence the need for "no stick writin'," has gots to be a place that's handier than hip pockets on a hog. And I'd like to work at a place like that. Chief: Well, we're glad you think so. Anyway, do you think that God exists? Andy: Don't rightly know, ain't never seen 'im. Chief: So, if you can't seen something, you won't believe it? Andy: I reckon. Chief: So then you don't believe that God exists, right? Andy: Now I didn't say that. I just said that I ain't never seen 'im. Chief: Congratulations Andy, you're an agnostic. Anyway, I think we're done here. Thanks for coming in and we'll be in touch. Andy: You betcha. Editors note: I wasn't sure, at first, whether Andy was the right person for the job or not. But since we had no other enquiries about the position, we offered it to him and he accepted. Besides, Andy seems like a good hearted fellow. You know, the kind of person who likes people more than stuff. And I think that his perspective will be a breath of fresh air around here. By the way, Miko heard me repeat that last statement to someone, and he was madder than a chimpanzee stuck between a big rock and a boulder who was also forced to wear a diaper. Andy's sweetie - Flora (aka Flo) Runner-up, Miss Camouflage, 1996 (or is it 69?) (Editor's note: This picture entry being published in this month's issue was Andy's belated Valentine's present to Flora. She was thrilled.) (2nd Editor's note: Flo was also turned down for a position at a large Christian television broadcasting company because her hais was not big and bright enough. She has asked for our prayers.)

Andy Akers
Ag-nostic

Andy couldn't make the publishing deadline for this issue because they had a bunch of heifers drop a load of calves on them last week at the farm.

So I (The Editor in Chief) scrambled to come up with something, and I thought this would help you get acquainted with our new agnostic writer.

The following is a recorded transcript from Andy's interview with me, the Editor in Chief:

Chief: Hello Andy, how are you doing?

Andy: Don't rightly know. Ain't been to the doc in a while.

Chief: Oh, okay. Let's see . . . you're looking for a writer's position here at the Institute. It says here (looking at resume written on the back of a napkin from the local tavern) that you're currently employed at a farm.

Andy: Uh-huh.

Chief: Are you going to keep working there while employed as a writer here?

Andy: I reckon.

Chief: Do you think that one job might interfere with the other?

Andy: Goshdawg, I figger we'll see if that chick'n comes home to roost or not.

Chief: Hmm . . . okay. What experience do you have as a writer?

Andy: Heck, I do all sorts of writin' and cypherin' n such. I fill out the feed orders, and when we build somethin', I'm the one that puts the mark on the board as to where to hack it off at.

Chief: Sounds challenging.

Andy: Shootfire! I seen a guy lose a finger 'cause he put it where the mark wuz!

Chief: Ouch! That must have hurt?

Andy: How should I know? Didn't happen to me.

Chief: I guess you're right about that.

Andy: Uh-huh. He did look fit to be tied though. However, the boss had a bigger conniption cuz the finger caused us to cut the board slaunchways, and that threw the shack off all catty whompus.

Chief: What other experience do you have?

Andy: I can reattach a finger with a sharp pocket knife and some bailing wire.

Chief: No, I mean as a writer.

Andy: Oh. Well, I gots a sweetie in the next county and I writes her luv poems.

Chief: Oh really?

Andy: She's cuter'n a possum. She gots a sister uglier than sin and wolverine mean, though. In fact, her sister is so ugly she'd run a dog off'n a meat wagon. Wanna hear one?

Chief: A poem? I . . . guess.

Andy: Okay, it goes like this:
Andy: Roses iz red,
Andy: violets iz is blue.
Andy: You're fine as frog's hair,
Andy: and you make me happier than a gopher in soft dirt.

Chief: That doesn't rhyme.

Andy: Ain't s'pposta. It's so-fis-ti-kay-ted poetry.

Chief: Oh, I see. Well, let's move beyond job experience and talk about you personally.

Andy: Shoot.

Chief: Okay, you know that we are a Christian publication?

Andy: Heck, that don't bother me none. 'lest you start dancin' 'round me with rattlers n such. I might have to take offense to that.

Chief: No problem - no snakes here.

Andy: Cuz when we had that gully washer back in 87, all the snakes high-tailed it for the high land . . .

Chief: Andy, we don't do the snake dance thing.

Andy: and one crawled in the cot with me and ol' Blue, that's my dawg . . .

Chief: Andy . . .

Andy: and we were like two long tailed cats in a room full of rockin' chairs . . .

Chief: ANDY!

Andy: Wu-huh?

Chief: We never have snakes in here - never.

Andy: That's good, cuz snakes make me all jittery n such.

Chief: (sigh) Alright, what is your view on God?

Andy: Ain't got none, ain't never seen 'im.

Chief: Well, you have to have an opinion.

Andy: This is a free country mister; I ain't gotta do nuthin'!

Chief: But you answered our ad for an agnostic writer.

Andy: Yep, sure did alrighty.

Chief: Hmmm . . . what does "agnostic writer" mean to you, Andy?

Andy: 'tis simple as dirt; "ag" is fer agricultural person, that's me - "nostic" means no stick - and writer means one who does writin'.

Chief: And what does all that fit in with the position here?

Andy: I'll shell down the corn fer ya - When we's out on the range, sometimes we ain't got nuthin' to writes with to our hunnies.

Chief: Go on . . .

Andy: Well, in that case we burn the end of a stick. Then we gots somethin' to writes with.

Chief: What does this do with "agnostic writer"?

Andy: I figger a place that's gots plenty of pencils, and hence the need for "no stick writin'," has gots to be a place that's handier than hip pockets on a hog. And I'd like to work at a place like that.

Chief: Well, we're glad you think so. Anyway, do you think that God exists?

Andy: Don't rightly know, ain't never seen 'im.

Chief: So, if you can't seen something, you won't believe it?

Andy: I reckon.

Chief: So then you don't believe that God exists, right?

Andy: Now I didn't say that. I just said that I ain't never seen 'im.

Chief: Congratulations Andy, you're an agnostic. Anyway, I think we're done here. Thanks for coming in and we'll be in touch.

Andy: You betcha.

Editors note:

I wasn't sure, at first, whether Andy was the right person for the job or not. But since we had no other enquiries about the position, we offered it to him and he accepted.

Besides, Andy seems like a good hearted fellow. You know, the kind of person who likes people more than stuff. And I think that his perspective will be a breath of fresh air around here.

By the way, Miko heard me repeat that last statement to someone, and he was madder than a chimpanzee stuck between a big rock and a boulder who was also forced to wear a diaper.

Andy's sweetie - Flora (aka Flo)
Runner-up, Miss Camouflage, 1996 (or is it 69?)

(Editor's note: This picture entry being published in this month's issue was Andy's belated Valentine's present to Flora. She was thrilled.)

(2nd Editor's note: Flo was also turned down for a position at a large Christian television broadcasting company because her hais was not big and bright enough. She has asked for our prayers.)

Andy Akers Ag-nostic

Andy Akers
Ag-nostic