. . .

Proof

Without me, you are nothing. I leave town for a few days, and the list goes dead. I own all your souls. Worship me.

Which is not to say that I am not a benevolent deity. I allow you all to wear your own socks. No commandments about socks are expressed or implied. Socks. Yes. Socks.

Of course, you must donate all your other worldly possessions to me. And no fair sockhoarding. You aren't allowed to spend all your money on socks and indulge in socktrading. At the New York Sock Exchange. Such things are an attempt to violate the letter of My rules, and you will be damned to the torments of Hell for it. WHERE DIRTY SOCKS WILL BE WAVED IN YOUR FACE FOR ALL ETERNITY! SUFFER, SOCKISH FOOLS!

But I know you wouldn't do that to Me. Kindly deity that I am.

Also, in the future, you must all spell "I" in lowercase. Only I am allowed to refer to myself as I. It's a godhood capitalization thing. I don't expect you to understand.

(English is the most egotistical language I know, come to think of it, in a brief aside from maniacal ravings. In Spanish, Usted(es) is capitalized. Meaning you, singular or plural. Must make effort to determine ego quotient e.q. of other languages. Back to ravings.)

And. Um. Give Me a moment, I'll think of something. Not that I don't know what I'm about to say already. I am, after all, you omniscient deity. I'm just, ah, testing you. Yes. A test. Fear the tests of your God. For if you displease me, insert standard Hellish boilerplate here, Larry. And make sure it's good this time, I want to scare these rubes right out of their socks. Then we'll have those as well, and the circle will be complete, and all will be joined together in My name, forever and ever amen. Say amen! Now! Out loud, so your cow-orkers can hear you and wonder what the Hell you're doing!

I need an antideity, though. Someone to scare you folks into line so you'll make sure to give Me My due. Them christians had the right idea on this one. Make an antideity, but make him not as powerful as the real deity, so everyone knows who is going to win in the end, and go lining up to be on the winning side. So. In My grand scheme, I will pick one of you to be the anti-me. Any volunteers? Note: volunteering is punishable by eternal damnation.

Lessee. Commandments. Socks. We got that one. Worship me. Always good, keep 'em coming in. Let's just say that one again. Make it two commandments. What the Hell, three even. What've we got?

I) Thou canst keep thine own socks. II) Thou shalt worship Me, thou ignorant buffoons. III) Don't evenest think of worshiping anything other than Me, or I shalt be forced to be Pissed Off. IV) Goobers! Me! Worship! Me! Now now now now now! (A tad strident? No, these people are primitive savages, and are easily impressed by such tactics. Impress them right off the bat that I mean business.) V) I art a kind and benevolent deity, dagnabbit. VI) But Don't Piss Me Off. VII) Don'teth, I mean. I think. VIII) Stop that! Right this instant, young man/woman! You are being Very Naughty! Put that down right now! Do you know where it's been? IX) I didn't mean it about women. Women, you can be naughty. Particularly attractive women. I want videotape, though. Live performances are even better. And don't abuse the privilege. See commandments V and VI. X) I get Everything but your socks.

That seems to cover it. What are you waiting for? If you're very good, or very female and very naughty in my presence, I may write commandments for you. Won't you like that? Commandments! Commandments for everyone!