Questions for God
 

What in heaven's name?

What the hell?

Why did you make bananas?
Now I am stuck making banana bread, again.
And my fingerers will smell of them.

Please think things through next time.
Kthxbye.

Say something
I'm giving up on you

Some thoughts about god as seen by a lot of people, it seems.

I heard on the radio recently someone whinging about how god shouldn’ta oughta done such and such, and how could god let this happen to me, and I thought about some of the things my father taught me about god, namely that god isn’t some guy with a flowing white beard who sits around answering people’s prayers.

I thought about that philosopher who came up with the circular logic “If god exists, then he’s all powerful, and if god is all powerful then he can create a rock so big even he can’t lift it, therefore god doesn’t exist.” OK, except the flaw lies in the premise, and that, I think is the problem everyone has with god, especially when god doesn’t do what we think god should do or even worse, does what we think he shouldn’t.

So we blame god rather than re-evaluate our ideas about god. To me it seems clear that while god may exist, god would probably have to be outside any ability to be described, understood, spoken of, or defined in any way. Even the previous attempt at defining god is inadequate, so it’s really best just not to talk about god, especially if you are trying to build a defining fence around god.

In summary, if you have a problem with god, then you have a problem with your definition of god.

I like the Neville Brother’s cover of “With god on their side”:

Oh, my name it means nothing and my age it means less
For the country I come from, is called the Midwest
I was taught and brought up, to the laws to abide
And that the land that I live in, has God on its side

Oh, the history books tell it, they tell it so well
The Cavalry charged and the Indians fell
The Cavalry charged and the Indians died
Oh, the country was young then, with God on its side

The Spanish American war had its day
And the civil war to us, was soon laid away
And the names of the heroes, I was made to memorize
With guns in their hands and God on their side

The first world war, it came and it went
And the reason for fighting, I never did get
But I learned to accept it, accept it with pride
For you don't count the dead when God's on your side

In the nineteen-sixties came the Vietnam war
Can someone tell me, what we were fighting for?
So many young men died, so many mothers cried
No I ask the question, was God on our side?

I learned to hate the Russians all through my whole life
If another war comes, it's them we must fight
And to hate them and fear them, to run and to hide
And accept it all bravely, with God on my side

Through many dark hours, I've been thinking about this
That Jesus Christ was betrayed by a kiss
But I can't think for you, you'll have to decide
Whether Judas Iscariot had God on his side

Oh, now as I'm leaving, I'm weary as hell
The confusion I'm feeling, ain't no tongue can tell
The words fill my head and they fall to the floor
That if God's on our side, He'll stop the next war
Jesus loves me, this I know

Let The Mystery Be
 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sW9IfHLieQU

Everybody's wonderin' what and where they all came from.
Everybody's worryin' 'bout where they're gonna go when the whole thing's done.
But no one knows for certain and so it's all the same to me.
I think I'll just let the mystery be.

Some say once you're gone you're gone forever, and some say you're gonna come back.
Some say you rest in the arms of the Saviour if in sinful ways you lack.
Some say that they're comin' back in a garden, bunch of carrots and little sweet peas.
I think I'll just let the mystery be.

Everybody's wonderin' what and where they all came from.
Everybody's worryin' 'bout where they're gonna go when the whole thing's done.
But no one knows for certain and so it's all the same to me.
I think I'll just let the mystery be.

Instrumental break.

Some say they're goin' to a place called Glory and I ain't saying it ain't a fact.
But I've heard that I'm on the road to purgatory and I don't like the sound of that.
Well, I believe in love and I live my life accordingly.
But I choose to let the mystery be.

Everybody's wonderin' what and where they all came from.
Everybody's worryin' 'bout where they're gonna go when the whole thing's done.
But no one knows for certain and so it's all the same to me.
I think I'll just let the mystery be.
I think I'll just let the mystery be.

For the monkeys. They wouldn't let up. I had to make something.

Ok, I'll "miracle" the smell off your fingers. Should they smell like flowers? Baby powder? Something else?

It's not as easy as you might think. Someone is always unhappy.

Something! Allah's gaining popularity now days. Give his schtick a try.

An answer! Thank God.
Thanks, God.

By the way, having my fingers smell like a monkey's arse was worth the pleasure the banana bread gave my Mum.

@ 3foot: ahh, one of my all time favourite Dylan songs.