The garbled message…

But first…
Dulltown, Europe: Today’s rather mild expletive from the sixteenth century is ‘Would that I sink as I stand!’ I suppose these days it’s the sort of thing that you might mutter listening to music on the phone whilst waiting to talk to British Gas.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

‘You see, what God meant to say was…’
‘Eh?…’
‘No, but it all makes sense, He just didn’t really put it very well…’
‘What?!…’
‘He could have been a bit clearer, don’t you think?’
‘Well, I…’
‘See, if you substitute DNA for ‘soul’ or ‘spirit’…’
‘DNA?…’
‘Yes! Having the Holy Spirit in you really refers to your DNA code…’
‘Look, I’m not sure that I… I’ll have to think about that… Hey, what about life after death then?’
‘That’s easy!’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, your DNA is passed on to your offspring, and thus continues for ever. You do die of course… He missed that part out so as to not put people off…’
‘Oh, right… So what about heaven then?’
‘Oh yes, heaven, up in the sky…’
‘Yes?’
‘He’s just telling us that providing we are reasonably sensible, and don’t kill ourselves off in our stupid wars, or completely wreck the planet… ‘our spirits will ascend into heaven’ – or to put it another way, we will eventually go into space, to other planets, taking our DNA with us… See?…’
‘So, that’s heaven then?’
‘Yes, of course – ‘up there’ and ‘mysterious’ – it all makes sense!’
‘Hey!’
‘What?’
‘How about the twelve commandments?’
‘Ten.’
‘Eh?’
‘Ten commandments…’
‘Oh yes, whatever… What about them?’
‘Oh, they are just a few suggestions that someone once came up with – I’m not even sure if God was actually involved in that. I mean, the bible, it’s a bit of a mess isn’t it? All that begetting and stuff… Really it’s just there to tell us it’s better not to kill each other, and to encourage us to pass on the Holy Seed as much as possible…’
‘DNA?…’
‘Right!…’
‘The crucifixion?’
‘I think He wanted the book to round off with a cliffhanger – leave ’em wanting more!…’
‘Right…’
‘Alright?’
‘Er, yes, thank you…’

About Dave Whatt

Grumpy old surrealist artist, musician, postcard maker, bluesman, theatre set designer, and debonair man-about-town. My favourite tools are the plectrum and the pencil...
This entry was posted in brain, conversation, cool, expletives, green, history, humour, information, learning, mind, religion, sex, surrealism, thinking, war, words and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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