Yaweh and Schmendrick I and II 6/8/2004
Home Up The Black Hole Literary Review Wm. E. Allendorf, Prop.

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post #301440 - 06/08/04 01:29 PM Yaweh and Schmendrick  from 24HourCampfire.com.



I've been lurking on this topic from the beginning, and I've finally decided to jump in.

My buddy, the Israeli paratrooper, once had a problem with some part of the Old Testament and went to her rabbi for an explanation. The rabbi listened for a long while, quietly nodding as she went on about the impossibilities of the Noah story and after a bit she quieted down for him to get a word in edgewise.

"Why must the story of Noah," he said, "Have to agree with scientific fact? Of course it doesn't. What kind of boring world would this be if all of science had to agree with God's word? You think God gives a whit about the difference? You are being silly. Go enjoy your life."

The arguments of science vs. religion seem to have heated up in the Renaissance. What was at stake then was an issue of church infallibility. In order to maintain supremacy, the church attempted to quash certain scientific debate in order to prove it was infallible and therefore under divine inspiration. Of course, the papacy was relying on the old pagan, Aristotle, for answers. Look how far that got them.

Now we come to this argument over Creationism versus Evolution, and folks want to take sides and somehow make this a litmus test on whether or not you are a true believer. I am just a poor Methodist, guys. The Bible is a great book, and I believe in it and I accept Jesus Christ as my personal savior, but it is not the only book on my shelf. The Bible does a great job of telling me a lot of things, but it tells me very little about how to clean a gun or what caliber to choose in my next rifle, or how often to change my oil or rotate my tires. Maybe you guys can read more into it than me, but I trust Darwin over Deuteronomy the same way I trust Rand McNally over Isaiah to tell me how to get to Albuquerque.

If I pick up Jack O'Connor and read that the 270 is the cat's meow, I'll take that as gospel, or at least one man's honest assessment of the truth. I will not try to verify it against Mathew, Mark, Luke, or John. Quite honestly I have very little faith that a bunch of Semites running around the desert thousands of years ago had much insight on the subject. True, God may have delivered the definitive text on hunting rifle selection to a prophet back then, but the Counsel of Nicea did a pretty good job of tidying that stuff up before it got to us in the present day.

Let us assume God came down to deliver his definitive description of Creation to his poor beleaguered prophet (we'll call him Schmendrick )

Yahweh: Schmendrick? Schmendrick?

Schmendrick : Yes Lord?

Yaweh: Why are you hiding? Come over here.

Schmendrick: Sorry, I was hoping you'd leave me alone today. I've got the sheep to shear, and the goats to milk and little Shmendrick Junior wants to go toss rocks at the goyem and. . .

Yaweh: This is much more important. I need you.

Schmendrick: Yes, Lord.

Yaweh: So where was I when we left off yesterday?

S: I think you were talking about ziggurats and gambrels

Y: That's ZYGOTES and GAMETES, you dolt.

S: Sorry.

Y: How am I going to get the word out about how I created the universe and the wonders of nature if you don't get even the simple things right. When we get into this whole mechanism of natural selection-- it is pretty neat stuff, but it's subtle. You've got to pay attention.

S: Sorry. By the way, Lord. I took the last batch of scrolls down to the temple the other day to have them adopted as Holy Scripture, and they kicked me.

Y: They what?

S: They kicked me. They kicked me, and they beat me and they took away all my scrolls and told me if I came back they were going to have me stoned to death.

Y: That's it!!! I want you to go down there and-

S: I'm not going back, Lord. They mean it this time. They're going to stone me and little Schmendrick Junior and the whole rest of the family just in case what I've got might be catching.

Y: So you're not going.

S: That's right.

Y: And all the scrolls have been destroyed?

S: No, I still have the first batch that they sent back. They said they were drivel, because there is nothing smaller than a worm. They said the whole thing about bacteria and viruses and antibiotics and curing cancer is all the ramblings of a madman.

Y: Hmmmmm. Well, this isn't the first time it's happened. You at least try and stay awake. Adam? Huh! He was a complete dolt. He'd fall asleep for hours on end and miss most of the story. Heck, I bet he missed the whole thing about growing up in a trailer park before I had the Garden finished. Adam's Dad blew the whole thing sky high one night trying to light the hot water heater. Am I right? That shmuck! That thing with the apple? I told him first, and then told Eve, because I was sure he'd forget. They were both a bunch of dumb goobers.

S: So what is it that you want me to do?

Y: I suppose I could give you something simple and easy to understand so that it'll get past those clots at the temple.

S: Simple? That sounds like a good idea. I like simple.

Y: Okay. You ready? Here goes. In the beginning, I created the heavens from an inflation of an 11-dimensional fabric . . .

S: A what?

Y: You know.

S: What's a dimension?

Y: You have length, width, height? Right? Okay now add in time as a 4th dimension.

S: You lost me again. I'm sorry.

Y: Okay. How about this: In the beginning, I created the Heaven and the Earth. . .

(some time later)

Y: . . And I had Adam create a taxonomy of everything of all the animals and plants and -

S: Can't we just say he named everything?

Y: Well we could, but that leaves out the hierarchical nature. It also leaves out the -

S: Remember, Lord? We're writing this for the clots at the temple.

Y: Okay. I give up for today. Just polish things up as you see fit-- see what you can do with it, and get it off to the temple tomorrow.

S: Tomorrow? Tomorrow is the Sabbath. The wife and I were thinking about contemplating the Universe tomorrow and rejoicing in your bounty.

Y: Oh yeah. Drat. Okay. Whenever. I gotta go; Satan and I are playing a quick nine before dinner and then taking the wives out to see a movie. He’s a good player, but he cheats!

S: What's a movie?

Y: Never mind. I gotta say, though, they've got this guy named Charlton Heston. God! He's the spitting image of me. Sounds like me too! Oh it's hilarious. I've got to find something important for him to do-- that talent is wasted. You'd love movies. Someday I gotta have you and the wife up for day or two. It's a gas.

S: No thanks. I can wait.

Y: Oh yeah, right. Okay. Well see what you can do, and I'll catch up with you early next week.

S: Goodbye, Lord.

Y: Später!

 

 

PT II -- 2005

I've been lurking on this thread for a while, and I thought I would put in a quick appearance. Before the flames
start, let me warn you that I got this as a direct revelation, just like the last one:

(ref: post #301440 - 06/08/04 01:29 PM )

If you have a beef, take it up with the guy upstairs. I am just the messenger.


Yaweh and Schmendrick PT II




Yaweh was in bed on Saturday Morning. He'd woken up early, turned on The Weather Channel, and then fallen back to
sleep. Sure, it was going to be a hot one, and he needed to get up early and mow the grass. However, if he just
laid back a little while, he could twiddle with the value of Lamda and still have the lawn done by Noon. It was
Saturday, for Chrissakes!

"Dad?" came a voice in the other room in response to this thought.

"What?"

"You called?"

"No, I didn't. I'm asleep."

"Okay, I just thought you'd called."

Thirty-three and still living at home-- what a maroon. You could not fault his love, but . . .

"Yes, Dad?"

"Nothing!"

There was a tropical depression brewing out in the Gulf-- maybe he could . . . No, every time he tried to monkey
with these storms they always hit Florida. One of these days, he had to figure out a way to hit more Blue States
with a hurricane. They had just lost touch with the whole Wrath of God thing. Everytime he thought about doing it,
the daggone storm would vear of at the last second and head for Florida or Texas. He'd been getting lessons from
John Hope, and it still wasn't working for him. It was worse than playing Skeeball. Oh well, Cheryl Lemke was cute.

The phone rang. Yaweh thought about not answering, and then he realized he was awake, and he might as well get on
with the day.

"Hallo?"

"This is Schmendrick."

"Schmendrick?" replied Yaweh. "You putz! What are you doing calling me on a Saturday?"

S: "Sorry,Lord. It's the guys at the temple again. They beat me up."

Y: "I've been meaning to get over there and kick some butt. I've hired some guys. They're Italians-- they know how
to apply pressure. They have this, er 'Thing' that they're into. I think it's called 'Rome.' "

S: "Italians? I've never heard of them."

Y: "You will. So, okay, you got me up on a Saturday morning. What is the freaking problem."

S: "I've been running them through the whole bit about Cosmic Strings and the 11-dimensional multi-verses thing you
gave me last week. They say it's camel cra#, and they don't buy it.

Y: "I got news for them. They buy what I'm selling, or they're going have a visit from my Italian friends."

S: "They don't believe it."

Y: "What's not to believe? They think I just pull this stuff out of thin air?"

S: "And another thing. They want me to re-write the whole Creation of Man."

Y: "What? What are thinking, Schmendrick? You tell, me: What are they thinking?"

S: "Well, you see, there are actually several versions floating around. One camp of theologians thinks that you
really did pull this out of thin air, in about a day or two. Another thinks that Natural Selection just does not
have enough punch to sell to the masses. Both sides think that you need to be given a bigger hand in all this."

Y: "They do, do they? I spend E-Freaking-ternity coming up with a way to inflate a Universe out of Nothing. I spend
billions of years running a whole generation of stars through their normal cycle, just so I have enough mulch at
the end to fertilize their little stinking speck of dust, and then I wait almost a billion years more to wait and
see if the seeds sprout, and they think this doesn't have enough punch? So what is this? They want magic freaking
beans that grow up over night so Jack can climb up to the sky and kiss my stinkin-"

S: "Yes. I guess that's it in a nutshell. One group thinks you should have done it all in a week. The other side
wants you having more of a hand in it."

Y: "What sort of hand do they want? I'll tell you what they are. They are all a bunch of whining monkeys. These
guys who want me doing the job in a day-- what do you call them?"

S: "I think those priests call themselves 'Creationists.'"

Y: "Those guys want to put God up in his Heaven, so that they can go and sit on his throne. That's all they want.
They want Me outta the way. God did dis and dis, and then he took off. If you wanna talk to God, you gotta come
tru' us. If you don't come up wit' da dough, we'll call him back on youse! Shemndrick, these guys are trying to
horn in on my territory. I don't like that.

S: Why are you talking that way?

Y: Moses gave me the first two seasons of The Sopranos for my birthday. It's great stuff. Now what about these
other guys?"


S: "I think they call themselves 'Intelligent Design Adherents.'"

Y: "I don't get this. What, they think you Think this thing through? I Thought their Universe into being like it
was a big stinking plan?"

S: "Well, yes."

Y: "These are even more dangerous people. Schmendrick, they're a bunch mutts. They sound plausible, but they want
to take a shortcut on the hard work. Every time the whole thing looks too stinking complex they want to just leave
the whole issue up to My stinking Will and let it go at that. I can at least respect the Creationists. They move
into a territory and strong-arm everybody, take over the rackets and then start taking the skim. This is a game I
can understand. It's at least honest. From them, all I want is my fair share. These other mutts just sound lazy.
Lazy mutts, that's what they are. They're missing the point."

S: "What is the point, Lord?"

Y: "What's the point? You asking me what's the point?"

S: "Yes, I guess I am. You've been dumping all this on me for years, and I've been writing it down and then going
to bat for you at the temple and getting the snot beat out of me. Yes, I am asking. What is the point?"

Y: "The point? You wanna know the point?

S: "Yes."

At this point Yaweh sat up in bed. He thumbed the remote and the Weather Channel disappeared from the TV. With the
sound off, he could here Satan down the street cranking up his mower.

"Schmendrick," said Yaweh. "You are the first one to ever ask me that question."

"I am?" asked Schmendrick, stupified. "It's THE question. Every man, wise or stupid, asks that question."

"No, " replied Yaweh. "They act like they're asking it. But deep inside their hearts they think they're God and
that they have their own special answer, and they create a Universe of illusion for themselves trying to prove the
illusion. They never really ask the question."

"Why is that Lord?" asked Schmendrick.

"Because," replied Yaweh. "They're afraid that if they truly ask, they will be answered, and it will be an answer
they do not want to hear."

"So where does that leave me?" asked Schmendrick.

"Well, you've asked." said Yaweh. " I guess you deserve an answer. However, I must warn you that if I tell you, you
won't be able to do my bidding at the Temple anymore. You'll lose your humanity, you will lose your job, your
family, and all that you hold dear in your world."

"Lord," replied Schmendrick. "I am ready."

"Are you?" replied Yaweh. "This is suicide, baby. You're biting down on the Barrel of Life and pulling the trigger.
Don't think this is just an easy way out of suffering. If you're not ready, it's just the beginning." Yaweh heard
Satan mowing his lawn now. Each blade of grass was a million souls, and Satan had just bought one of those new
mulching blades. It made the question to Schmendrick all the more poignant.

"Er, " hesitated Schmendrick. "This wasn't the way I was expecting this phone call to go, but . . . yes. Give it to
me. "

What is the stinking point of all this? "

"Okay, " said Yaweh. "First off, these Intelligent Designers have it half right. Yes, I did make this whole thing.
The Whole Thing, not some little part of it just big enough for your species and your tiny outlook on things.
Second, you are not alone. I've done this in an infinite number of times, and in an infinite number of universes.
Third, I've been doing this Forever. I cannot remember when I started, and I have no end in sight. Your world will
die, your Galaxy will die, your Universe will die, and then others will take their place. I cannot even remember
when I stopped feeling sorry for when a Universe died, so don't ask me when I stopped fretting over an individual
soul. All that I can say is that I feel the separation of each soul and its rejoining."

"Yes, but why?"

"I am getting to that." replied Yaweh. "Hold your water. Look, your Creationists do have it right in one regard.
Man is built in My image. That's for good and for bad. You have My Love, you have My compassion, you have my
Curiousity, you also have My view on things."

"I don't get it." replied Schmendrick.

Y: "You see the World through my eyes, and in return, I see the World through yours. Together we are searching for
the Meaning of it all. For the most part, you cannot accept what your Science tells you, so you invent a religion
to fill in the gaps. I, on the other hand, cannot accept that there is no meaning to it all, and I continuously
search for it, spreading the seed of Life and Consciousness everywhere and hoping that it will sprout, grow, bear
fruit and return to me with a new twist that will add to My understanding."

S: "Who's right? Science or Religion?"

Y: "Who's the better weather babe: Heather Tesch or Kim Perez? Look, Science is the way one side of Man looks at
the world. Religion addresses the other. One picks the wings off the butterfly and learns how to build a machine to
fly. The other watches butterflies and yearns to fly in the first place. One tastes better, the other is less
filling."

S: "Is there a point?"

Y: "Darned if I know. I suspect there is. However, when you are Omnipotent and Omnipresent, it is impossible to
step back and view yourself. I don't care what those overly optimistic philosophers say. For all I know I could
just be cranking off. That whole business about 'on Earth as it is in Heaven' is for real. Still I have Faith, and
so do you. If we didn't, we'd just give up and the whole shooting match would probably wink out of existence. You,
me, the mobsters, and the mutts-- the whole works. Now that Satre is dead, life really doesn't have any meaning."

S: "Who's Satre?"

Y: "Forget it, it was just a bad joke."

S: "How can this be?"

Y: "It is. It is, because that is the only way it can be. I wake up one day and realize I can't see Myself in the
mirror, therefore I must find some other way to see Myself. I start inflating multi-verses, and the whole mess just
happens. If it had been any other way, I wouldn't exist, and neither would you."

S: "To what end? What if we ARE all just 'cranking off?'"

Y: "We'll never know it. At this level, Eternity is just Eternity. It makes no difference if you are playing to win
or just pulling your willy. The important point is this: Faith keeps us going, and for both you and Me the road
goes on forever, and the party never ends."

S: "What about salvation?"

Y: "If you can't get out of the game, you need to learn to enjoy playing and learn to play the cards you're dealt.
That is the only salvation there is. It can't stop, it won't stop; all we can do is learn not to draw to an inside
straight, and never play against a man named Doc."

S: "So what do I tell the guys in the temple?"

Y: "Forget it."

Schmendrick suddenly found himself in Yaweh's bedroom.

S: "Oh, I see what you meant when you said this was it."

Y: "Yeah, after you get an answer like that, there really isn't much of a point sticking around."

S: "Now what?"

Y: "You can sleep in on Saturdays and watch the Weather Channel."

S: "That doesn't seem too bad. So who were these Italians you were talking about?"

Y: "Oh yeah. It's an interesting bunch of guys that really have a knack for moving history along. I'm thinking of
franchising them out. They have fascinating ways of getting things done. When you have a chance, check the
Wikipedia for 'Romans' 'Galileoi' and 'La Cosa Nostra.' "

S: "What's a wikipedia?"

Y: "Another little thing that your world produced and added to the Universal Understanding. Now that you're here, I
have a question for you?"

Yaweh flicked back on the TV. "So which of these chicks do you think is the ultimate weather babe: Cheryl Lemke or
Kristina Abernathy?"

 


 


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