Now, I’m still stickin’ with what I said before: God is one scary buckaroo. Just looking at it felt like there were worms squirming around in my eyes, but you know what?
I’m polytheistic, baby! Ain’t no way that one stinky God is the only god with a lowercase g we’ve got. There’s the.. well, red thing always in the sky. That could be a god, although it gives off more of a hellspawn vibe to me than anything else.
There’s those super macho buff gods in those viking or roman stories like Zeus and Odin and Aphrodite (Aphrodite my beloved), so surely at least one of them would be willing to give me a helping hand!
I don’t know if it’s obvious or not by now pardner, but there ain’t really many other people left worshippin’ them.
The pink people worship this metaphysical concept that transcends our concept of a flesh-bodied soul and observable universe through light particles and cones transmitted into the tricky, easily-deceivable little things we call eyes.
I dunno what the red or green or yellow people worship. They just look kinda dumb all the time.
And Rocinante… I think Rocinante’s just always hungry.
People, though? They all worship the capital G God. I used too as well, but ain’t no way in red am I gonna bow down before that really really really really really really scary black void of nothingness. Screw that!
So I decided to pay a little visit to the local Catholic church. Why the Catholic church in particular?
There’s no other churches around here, mon ami. That’s part of livin’ in the Midwest for ya: all the churches here believe in the good baby Jesus.
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It’ll be fineeeee. I’m already a sinner baby, so if I’m gonna go down to hell anyway, I may as well come a legend. Where else am I gonna potentially contact divine forces beyond my understanding? The local coffee shop? No way, friendo. Coffee is for nerds and depressed programmers.
Pee-yew, though! There’s, like, a TON of sleepy beddy bye corpses here. They’re sitting all creepy like on the wooden seat thingies with their hands clasped together all boney-like.
Arf—
ROCINANTE. WHAT. DID. I. SAY?
Whine m(_ _)m
You just had a buffet at the golden arches you spoiled little pupper! No means no, and doing that aaww cute > - < face is NOT gonna help you.
Anyway, don’t you think Jesus’s story is, like, really messed up? Like, poor dude ya know? They just skewered that sucker and hung him up to dry in the sun like a big sardine. What did Jesus ever do to them, huh? Well, besides spreading the gospel of a new religion that threatened the current power dynamic of the Roman Empire and it’s hegemony over the citizens.
”On the third day he shall rise” why? Why the third day specifically? Seems awfully specific, but I guess those gods or God sure do like partaking in a little bit of tomfoolery.
I think I’ll try to summon Loki. He seems like a fun fella to be around. Not too sure about the whole transforming into a mare and being impregnated by a horse thing… like, I don’t judge man. I really don’t, but some things are just a bit too much. I can look past it though if he can score me some sick golden locks. I’m tired of this red hair and red eyes and red heart and red soul.
Let’s see… I just gotta step up here and get down on me knees, right? Ahem: Oh mischievous lord of the—
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Huh. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Haven’t the foggiest idea what it means, but I’m sure I’ll figure it later.
Was that supposed to be from Loki? Or some other god with a lowercase g? I dun know, but my head hurts.
It’s as if I’m not the one that’s supposed to be receiving this. I’m just a window. A looking glass.
Gods, if you’re watching me, then you can f*** right off! Rude sacks of crud… warn a little lady before you go and mess around with my brain. It’s already all cuckoo enough!
Haaah, let’s just get outa here Rocinante. I don’t think I’ll be attending mass ever again.