A reading from the Book of Donald

Amen and Amen and Amen

“My recent election is a mandate to completely and totally reverse a horrible betrayal and all of these many betrayals that have taken place,” he said.

And that mandate, he said, is not only from the voters; it is nothing less than divine.

“Just a few months ago, in that beautiful Pennsylvania field, an assassin’s bullet ripped through my ear,” Trump said. “But I felt then and believe even more so now that my life was saved for a reason. I was saved by God to make America great again.”

-Reading from “The Book of Donald “

“Trump Bible” printed in China

Somewhere in the Cosmos

God, do you have a minute? It’s Gabriel.

I’m busy over here. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Now that’s miraculous! I’m watching a massive black hole as big as a galaxy out on the edge of-

Lord, you should hear this.

Really, Gabriel? You know I’m all knowing, right?

Verily. Known it for Eternity. Thou won’t let any of us forget.

So, what am I missing that’s so important? And where? Andromeda? Mars? The planet Zoozi-preekle in the Zotnot star cluster?

Earth, Lord. A violation #354-17777666-01. Your name is be used in vain.

No.

And worse. For political gain.

Ugh. Again? Those puny mites.

Washington, D.C. to be specific, Lord. One of the mites is saying you saved it from the Angel of Death so he could-

WHAT?! What? Those mites are saying I took time out of MY eternity to reach down and “save” one of them? That I performed some kind of abracadabra-ala-kazam magic trick?

Calm thyself, Lord.

Listen, Gabriel. These mites say this abominable camel dung all the time. This was my will or that was my will. My will be done. Blah, blah, blah.

Lord…

Listen, Gabe, you caught me enjoying creation 47-millions light years away from that mite infested mud ball where I have millions of Los Angelenos praying for rain, millions of migrants praying for mercy and millions of gays and trans kids praying for protection and you're telling me this mite says I singled him out for Divine Intervention? For Miraculous Intercession? To do what exactly?

I thought you were all knowing.

Cut to the point, Gabe.

He says you saved him from getting shot so he can “Make America great again.” And he says only he can do it. He thinks he’s you, a God, a messiah.

THAT fat orange beetle down there? The ass who didn’t even put his hand on the Bible. You’re telling me he thinks he’s a God who is going to save America.

He told the other mites you intervened and saved him from the Angel of Death back in July. Says you helped him win.

What balls. Size of Jupiter. Brain like a pebble. Where did this blasphemer say I so loved the world that I spared him from death?

Pennsylvania

Pennsylvania, to be specific, Lord.

So, what went on in Pennsylvania this past July? Let me think…It was summer… so it couldn’t have been last down at a Steelers’ game. That’s when the prayer request line always gets overloaded. Especially if there’s a cyclone in south Asia. So, what happened?

Well, Lord, the fat orange beetle was campaigning in a field in western Pennsylvania and a young mite with a gun climbed onto a nearby structure and-

I remember. We saw the mite aiming his gun at our beetle. I was doing what I always do. Watching.

That’s pretty much all you do, Lord.

Got to Hell. Kidding! You knew I was kidding, right?

Rewind the tape of time

Let’s watch it unfold again, Gabriel.

Oh. There’s the first shot, Lord. Ooh! Oh. Nicked the beetle’s ear. Ooh! Ooh. Seven shots. Ooh. Oh. Ooh. Killed an innocent bystander. Wounded two others.

I remember this, Gabriel. Oh, look he’s pumping his bloodied fist. Great TV for the mites. Big news on the third mudball from the sun. Oh, well. You know what they say.

The Lord works in mysterious ways?

I hate that one, Gabriel. I don’t “work in any particular way”. I don’t work. I never intervene. Look, Gabriel. 200 mites on that mudball shoot and wound each other every day in their country. Don’t get me started on their conceit that I specially blessed their tribal land where about 125 kill each other with guns every year. I don’t will them to kill each other or themselves! The mites freely kill each other, and their guns make it easier. That’s not my will. That’s the will of the mites that the mites put in their Me Forsaken Congress.

But, Lord, the fact is the bullet missed the fat orange beetle, and he says it was divine intervention by you that saved him so he could become President again and make America great again. And “like Jesus” he forgave the January 6th insurrectionists yesterday. And he began the round up of migrants to protect “the innocent from the slaughter”. Lord? Shouldn’t you strike him down for blasphemy and adultery and stealing and-

Stop. Do not list his sins. I don’t have all eternity in which to hear them all.

Actually, you do, Lord.

Get thee to Purgatory, you gnat. Stop. Stop. Stop. Those who “believe” I miraculously “intervened”, that I somehow broke the natural laws of my cosmos for that mite, that I blew aside the “fatal” bullet with my divine breath are as dumb as lambs and as blind as cave fish.

Lord, you’re losing your divine chill.

Every year I powerlessly watch more than 1,000 children die from cancer! I powerlessly watch 42,000 car accidents kill human beings! I powerlessly watch nearly 4,000 perish in fires! In their stupid country alone. Not to mention the entire planet. Or the 47-million other inhabited worlds in the cosmos. I’ve got asteroids slamming into inhabited planets and entire galaxies slamming into each other out here!

Thou knows what happens when you get wound up like this...

Death and change are constant, flowing endlessly across time. But still those mites on that mudball choose to believe in superstitious magic. Why repair this world when paradise is waiting for them on the other side of this forsaken existence, a world forsaken not by me —but by themselves. I say damn them! Damn them all.

Thou art on a roll. Where’s that famous forgiveness and mercy Big Guy?

They think “Oh there must be a reason I let 40 migrant men, women and children smother in a truck trailer. Oh, it was God’s will I saved a puppy in Des Moines. Oh, there must be a reason I let thousands burned to death or get crushed under rubble in Gaza as they beg me for mercy. For eternity the mites down there have blamed me for everything when they should have— “

Back to the Inauguration Ceremonies

Lord, your wrath! Remember thy blood pressure. Deep breath, Lord, deep breaths. Look Lord, the beetle is attending a Christian church service in D.C. now! With Vice-President elect Vance and the whole crew. The bishop is preaching! Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde, she’s the leader of the Episcopal Diocese of Washington. She’s asking them to pray for the least among them. What does thou hear, Lord?

I don’t hear any prayers from the front rows, Gabriel. Not a peep. Well, one of the mites is praying about a stock purchase he made yesterday. That’s it. Nothing else but stone cold silence. The fat beetle is humming. I’m afraid the mites on that mudball are on their own. And so is their orange “savior” down there.

But Lord-

Gabriel don’t bother me with “news” about him or that mud ball. He’s the answer to their prayers. They can have him. I have more entertaining black holes to watch elsewhere.

A 2d Reading from The Book of Donald

And verily, King Trump did tweet “Bishop Mariann is a Radical Left hard line Trump hater who is not very good at her job because she brought her church into the World of politics in a very ungracious way and she was nasty in tone, and not compelling or smart and apart from her inappropriate statements the service was a very boring and uninspiring one.”

Amen