Dear God

Dear God: 


I know you're busy running the universe and all, but I read in that book, you know the one, The Bible, that the meek would inherit the earth. It didn't say when exactly, and I have to admit, I'm wondering why the meek? Is that because you can impose the responsibility of running a planet on them and they won't complain? 

It's been a rough couple of days, and yes, mostly because of you-know-who. I know that I should loosen up, and that's exactly what I'm writing to complain about, cause I don't want to - unless of course, you're planning on punishing me for complaining, in which case I'd like to make it clear that it is not my intention to complain but merely ask why things are the way they are in the world. Of course, if I'm complaining, might I add that it's your fault, assuming you created the earth and the heavens and everything in it. So, technically, shouldn't you take the blame? Unless, of course, you buy into that whole free will concept, talk about reading the fine print. 

Come what may, I do need to ask a few questions. 

First, with your omnipresent powers, is it not possible for you to quantumly manifest a website whereby we could interact with you?  If a 5-year old can manage uploading videos to YouTube, I would imagine you could create a super-powered MyHeaven or AngelBook.  Given that creation is your thing, a social networking platform whereby prayers, complaints, and requests could be submitted, along with a Q&A section (not a FAQ section, those are lame and frustrating for those of us wanting answers NOW) would make a lot of people happy and solve once and for all the whole evolution vs. creation debate.

Second, while I appreciate the whole 'recovery' experience that you bestowed upon me, enough's enough. I've gotten over myself. I've gotten up, that was a miracle, by the way, that I'd like to thank you for. I've even changed my last name to Laughing so I can spend the rest of my time doing and inspiring just that. But, I have to tell you, I am getting tired of going to doctors and labs. I mean, you saw what happened this morning, right? I asked the woman today if she had ever heard of the word discretion, when I saw the utter blank look on her face, I asked her if she was familiar with the meaning of the word discretion, to my amazement, she had never heard of it. 

Since I had to spell it out for her, I'll spell it out for you, too, discretion means carefulness, tact, diplomacy, delicacy, and sensitivity. Just as I didn't want my business shouted across a busy laboratory filled with loads of patients, I think there's a bit of a lesson in this one for you, too - carefulness. Perhaps a little more thought could have gone into the whole free will thing because some of us down here, and I won't name names (check with Santa on this one) have been making an utter debauchery of things, including you-know-who. 

Third, I don't enjoy drinking or smoking or other visceral pleasures. Does this make me meek or simply lame and boring? If it meekness, then I'd like to say right now, count me out of your inheritance. This place is a disaster here. Do you have any other options? If yes, I'd love to see a brochure on them. 

Finally, have you read anything on quantum physics? Interestingly enough, it started out with the pursuit of the elemental building blocks of the universe (separate elementary particles) and has now evolved (sorry, you might be sensitive to that word) into the notion that the universe is an undivided whole in a perpetual state of dynamic flux. If I read this correctly, this would indicate that you're evolving, too. Is that right? If this is the case, can you choose someone new to channel the sequel to your last book? Preferably, someone with a degree in physics. I think your last book had too many cooks in the kitchen, if you know what I mean? In fact, I think that's why they all think they're right!  The problem is they're all arguing over who got the real "scoop". 

As you can see, the implications that we are not separate parts of a whole but rather the whole is a difficult notion to accept, especially given that some of the undivided parts of the whole, and you know exactly who I mean, insist upon being real dodo heads.

If I understand this whole thing correctly, I'm actually writing this letter to myself. The self that is on a higher plane. Or the self that is across the ocean signing in from New Zealand. So, basically, anyone who reads this is also me, right? In that case, they're probably just about as confused as I am.

All I can say is, get me outta of here!