Hey everyone, God here to answer some mail. This time it’s from Lorelei in Pasadena, California and it reads:
Dear God,
Why do bad things happen to good people?
Also, I love what you did with Koalas! They’re so cute! Keep it up!
Signed,
Lorelei
Well, Lorelei, first off thanks for your letter. I’m always appreciative of the fans. You know, I’m asked that question a lot, and I’ll tell you what, it’s all those names. I’m terrible with names. Faces I’m ok with, surprisingly (even though you all kinda look like me). But names – Sweet Me.
You see, back when I started this whole crazy ride, all I had to remember was Adam. Then Eve. Then Cain and Abel. Then I swapped out Abel for Seth. In any case, it was easy back then. Few names, easy to match to faces. Then you took that whole “fruitful and multiply” thing pretty seriously. Next thing I know BAM! Billions of people. People with faces. And what’s worse, people with names. Billions of names.
And you all want stuff, and rightly so. Why shouldn’t you want stuff? “I want to be famous.” “I want my dog to live.” “I want everyone to convert to Islam.” Pardon my French, but it’s really fucking hard to keep track of, people! Plus, so many of you have the same name! Did you know there are about 2.5 billion people whose names end with “ing” or “ang” or “eng”. 2.5 billion! Come on! Could you possibly make this harder for me?
So it’s not like I intend for them to happen. Bad things, I mean. To good people. It’s just that I tend to send the good stuff to the wrong parties sometimes. But seriously, if you look at this histogram I made, you’ll see that by
Admittedly I got a little defensive there. But I’m working through it. This is a touchy subject. People use it as an excuse for atheism, and all it is is forgetfulness! That’s like if you forgot to feed your dog, so your dog no longer believed in you. He just ignores you and comes up with some theory about how it rains dog food over his bowl at regular intervals. Totally ridic.
So if something bad happens to you, and you’re good people, don’t get all bent out of shape. I’ll probably make it up to you. But just don’t take it personally. Especially if your name is Ving or Chang or Peng. Because it’s just a name. And what’s in name? A rose by any other blah blah blah as sweet. That Charles Lindbergh was a true poet.
Dedicated to Bret Runestad and David Berman; the most faithful and atheistic people I know, respectively.