The Amalgamated Monotheists’ and Goat-Herders’ Union- Part 1
July 20, 2010
“The homosexuals wearied themselves, trying to find the door.”
Genesis 19:11, as quoted in “The Gay Blade,” by Jack T. Chick (http://www.chick.com/reading/tracts/0084/0084_01.asp)
Gorf looked up into the blazing morning sun. “At the appointed hour,” it was written, “verily shall mana fall from heaven, for the Lord, your God, does so love his children.”
What Gorf actually got was a powerful blast from the desert sun that sent him stumbling around, suddenly blind. As he bellowed with the full force of his lungs- “verily, yea, thus, AND SO!” – he found himself mysteriously guided along the exact route through his camp that caused him to in turn: collapse his father-in-law’s tent, break open several chicken coops, and fall into a pit, which, in hindsight, he should really have dug much further from where he was sleeping.
As he lay among that which had been cast out from the light of this world he noticed two things. Well, actually, he noticed three things, if you count “I shouldn’t have dug an excrement pit so near my tent” and “I REALLY shouldn’t have dug an excrement pit so near my tent” as two things. But besides his meta-theologico-trans-physical musings, he also noticed that the cries of “verily,” “yea,” “thus,” and “AND SO!” which were ringing around him could not possibly have been solely his own.
“Oh,” he thought, “well. That’s a relief. If thousands of people fall into their own filth with me, it’s only fractionally as embarrassing.”
Gradually the cursing and the wailing died down, and from the relative silence a great and powerful voice boomed out, calling to the people, “Hark ye! Hark ye! Listen, for it is I, the messenger of your Lord, the leader of our people, the liberator from the great oppressor, the bringer of order and justice to all who accept God into their hearts-”
“Bok, our leader.”
“Well I didn’t vote for him!”
“I’m just saying-“
“HARK YE! HARK YE! Verily, thus, AND SO! HARK YE! Great disorder reigns through the land, and there has been a terrible mixing up of the castes! Brother has violated brother, and men do lay with the goats of their neighbour.
“For eight long and glorious years has the Lord led you, his chosen people, through the sands of plenty, beneath the light of his triumph. But in that time many a crime has been committed, and faint indeed has grown your devotion. All manner of disorder reigns! Sons do mumble against their mothers. Mothers do grumble against their husbands. And husbands do fumble with their daughters!
“The blindness with which the Lord has struck you in punishment, is indeed a fate which you have brought upon yourselves. But so, then, is it a fate you have the power to deliver yourselves from, for your Lord is a just and merciful God, and does so love you, that he will forgive your trespasses if you will accept his mighty justice. So be ye at the foot of great Mount Kalamatus at the hour of the midday sun, and accept the forgiveness of your Lord, in the form of his great and terrible laws!”
As the messenger of the Lord, Bok, finished his summons, Gorf’s vision began to return. With this vision he saw that he had not only dug his pit too near his tent, but had in fact dug it unusually deeply, and so was forced to call out, “ah, hark ye, hark ye perhaps anyone, I, um, I do really quite verily need a hand.”
After a moment the head of Gorf’s brother-in-law, Klog, appeared over the edge of his hole. “Gorf!” he exclaimed, with a shout of great surprise. “What are you doing down there?”
“Verily, thus Klog,” Gorf called back, “I don’t know. What are you doing up there?”
“Well,” Klog mused, looking off into the distance, “first I got up, and then I thought about having some breakfast, and then I saw that I wasn’t wearing any pants, and then I was trying to decide if I wanted to wear any pants-”
“Klog,” Gorf tried to interrupt. “Klog.” “Klog!”
It was no use. Klog’s recitation continued.
“…and then she said, I’m Glab, who’s this Sibhab you’re talking about, and then I decided I would put some pants on, and then Glab was trying to shout and to cry and to press charges all at once, and then I remembered it was the twelfth day after the full moon, and that I had to be at the tent of justice before the midday sun to explain what I’d been doing with all those cats on market day, and then I remembered I still hadn’t eaten, and then I thought, hmm, Klog, think, how do you get breakfast, and decide when to start walking to the tent of justice, there’s a trick to it…”
As Gorf stood trapped, listening to his brother-in-law’s story, he could feel his ankles slowly sinking into the mush beneath him.
“… and then I looked up into the sky, and then I couldn’t see anything, and then I was falling about everywhere, and then I walked straight through your tent, and then I accidentally stepped on some eggs, and then I fell down onto some goats.”
“So you didn’t fall into a pit, then?” Gorf asked.
“Nope. I got the goats,” Klog replied. “Bad luck brother. Goats is better than pits.”
“Are you going to help me out of this pit?”
Klog stood stunned for a moment. He looked down into the pit, and then looked back and Gorf. “Well why didn’t you say something earlier, Gorf? Sure I’ll help you out.”
After Gorf had clambered out of his waste, having made especially sure not to wipe as much of the excrement off of his hands as possible before accepting Klog’s help, the two made their way to their great and terrible judgement at Mount Kalamatus.
The whole nation had already assembled there to await Bok’s message. Gorf overheard snatches of conversation that the people assembled there were having:
“So you walked straight through your in-laws’ tent?”
“That’s nothing, mine were in there when I did it.”
“Did you break through the chicken coops too?”
“I think I crushed some piglets to death.”
“I heard Blom did that too.”
“And then the goats, right?”
“Well, of course.”
“You have to finish with goats.”
“It’s like Bok said, you can’t have a proper punishment from God if you haven’t lain with goats.”
Gorf took Klog aside for a moment and whispered, “listen, Klog, don’t…ah… don’t mention to anyone about the pit, alright?”
Before Klog could reply, the Lord’s messenger, Bok, began to speak from a great cliff extending out from Mount Kalamatus.
“Hark ye! Hark ye! I speak bearing a message from God!”
 And, incidentally, after a great many repetitions, across countless generations, and by the inscrutable windings of the evolution of any great story, eventually came down to our own day as the epic we now call The Odyssey.