sharks: the terrorists of the sea
Unmanageable sleep, the looming international question, two months' solitude, a temporary nadir of confidence in my own writing, and approaching winter: but am I ever glad the Onion is back. And it moves me. Strange times.
"Why would you think I'd want anything else? Humans don't need religion or God as an excuse to kill each other—you've been doing that without any help from Me since you were freaking apes!" God said. "The whole point of believing in God is to have a higher standard of behavior. How obvious can you get?"
"I'm talking to all of you, here!" continued God, His voice rising to a shout. "Do you hear Me? I don't want you to kill anybody. I'm against it, across the board. How many times do I have to say it? Don't kill each other anymore—ever! I'm fucking serious!"
The comedians are coming back, cautiously. We'll need them. At Marlowe's house the night of the 11th, we ended up mocking the newscasters' hairstyles. We had to. There was nothing else.
I bought this Qur'an yesterday. Not that the bilingual text is much help since I can't even tell where the Arabic letters begin and end; but it is a thing of beauty.
