Sunday, January 4, 2009

For a Laugh: The Divine Situational Comedy

For real atheist jokes that you might actually laugh at, please visit humor sites #1, #2, #3, or #4.

A Shi'ite Muslim, a Sunni Muslim, an Orthodox Christian, a Catholic, a Protestant, and an Orthodox Jew all walk into a bar. Offended at the effrontery of unclad Western women and the serving of alcohol, the Muslims shoot everybody, and then each other. Everyone dies, including the atheist bartender. They all go to be judged before the Creator. All of their faces light up, now that they've been vindicated. The atheist, understandably, gets nervous.

"Salvete," the Creator says.

Immediately the Catholic guy starts jumping up and down like a lottery winner, pointing at the atheist. "Pascal's wager! In your face!"

The Creator waits for the end zone celebration to end, and says, "Calm down."

The Catholic turns to Him, smiling beatifically. "Yes Father?"

"You also bet that I would be okay with your just-in-case beliefs, and the other specifics of your religion."

"What?" The clouds they're all standing on have grown darker.

"As it turns out, I'm not impressed by people who asked others to believe just in case. I'm afraid you're voted off the island." ZAP. A divine bolt has disintegrated the Catholic, leaving the rest of them standing there in a puff of strangely Catholic-scented divine ozone. The atheist is still nervous, and now so are the other five. They take a closer look and realize that while the Creator is, as all had expected, male,* He is in fact a Neanderthal. *(Yes, even the atheist. I bet Lucretius pictured gods as living on a mountaintop too; can't really blame him, when he was surrounded by such imagery.)

Now He turns to the Protestant. "What's your excuse?"

"Lord, I went overseas and converted heathens."


"Well, because before I got there, they were worshiping Satan."

"How did you know they were worshiping Satan?"

"Because the name they uttered wasn't yours."

"Are you kidding me? 2,000 years later you think YOU'RE saying my name the right way?"

"But Lord, I also supported intelligent design. I was a Young Earth Creationist."

"Well, that's pretty good. You learned to ignore your senses and reason, which I created just to trick you. You realized that the Earth was created on Tuesday then?"

"No Lord, it was created six thousand years ago."

"Where the hell did you get that from?"

"From reading the Bible!"

"And how do you read the Bible! With your senses, dummy!" And ZAP, the Protestant is gone. The Muslims and Jews are now looking more satisfied; the Orthodox gentleman is looking for a sign that says "EXIT".

The Creator glares down upon the Muslims; each is looking past the Creator's Shoulder for virgins.

"Hey," He says. "Eyes here." The two Muslim fellows waver between averting and not-averting. "How many of you can be right?"

"Only one!" they both shout simultaneously.

The Creator asks the Shi'ite: "Do you genuinely, in your heart, believe that the only God is Allah, and Mohammed is His prophet, and that Ali was his rightful successor of Mohammed?"

"I do Lord!" And the Creator saw that this was so.

He asks the Sunni: "Do you genuinely, in your heart, believe that the only God is Allah, and Mohammed is His prophet, and deny that Ali was his rightful inheritor?"

"I do Lord!" And the Creator saw that this was so. "I now pronounce you banned from life." ZAP! The Creator added as an afterthought: "Only one of them could have been right, at most; doesn't mean either of them necessarily was. Dummies."

Now before the Creator were the hasidim, the Orthodox Christian, and the atheist.

The Creator shouts: "What - is the capital of Assyria?"

"Nineveh!" they all shout back in unison.

"Smartasses. Fine. You - " the Creator says, striding up to the Orthodox Christian. "You're so ugly you could be a modern art masterpiece! How tall are you private?"

"Sir, five-foot-nine sir!"

"Did you keep kosher, like Ned Flanders?"

"What do you say, O Pantokrator?"

"What are you, the wacky neighbor in this sitcom? Panto-Kramer is more like it! You heard me! It says right there in Leviticus!"

"But they said we didn't have to - "

"Who said?"

"I don't know, some guy a long time ago. We - "

"Your great uncle's plumber tells you you don't have to follow the rules and you decide that's fine? Outta here!" Zap.

The Jew has relaxed visibly. The atheist waits for 220 volts of divine wrath (the Creator had been speaking English with a pronounced central European accent of some kind, so 220 would be more appropriate. The regional accent seemed ludicruous, but then again they were somehow existing out of their bodies, standing on a cloud, and seeing things without having eyes, so why quibble).

"You think you're pretty clever for inventing monotheism, don't you," the Creator says to the Jew. "So I'm the one true God?"

"Yes, Lord."

"Wrong, thanks for playing!" The Creator pulls a string. A divine curtain around them falls. They are actually in a divine sports arena, with thirty-three thousand more gods watching their every move. The divine upper bleachers are about divinely half-full. Divine revenues were apparently down for this franchise.

The Jew is gaping at the poly-polypantheon before him. "Only Hinduism explains this - ha! I'm Shiva!" the Creator announces. As the Jew cringes in anticipation of being smitten with a giant wiener crowned in flame, the Creator says, "Relax, just screwing with you. But one thing: just because a Creator exists, doesn't mean an afterlife does." The Jew is gone.

The Creator turns to the atheist and explains, "There was in fact one true religion on Earth at one time. About thirty-eight thousand years ago in what is now Ethiopia, there was a tribe of maybe - ih, over four or five centuries let's call it
six hundred people - who got pretty close to the actual rituals and way I want to be worshipped. Zibizabianism, you would call it. No writing, so no way to pass it on after they got exterminated by their neighbors. I allow free will you know. Anyway, what's your excuse."

"Lord, you should've given us more evidence."

"I've heard that one before. You're lucky I don't hate plagiarism as much as gambling." The ZAP came in slow motion; it was more of a buzz, and looking down the business end of the lightning bolt it looked surprisingly like a green "6:30". I couldn't think of a punchline, so the only other thing this could've been was a dream or a hallucination, and I don't want to promote drug abuse among our nation's youth.

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