“Fuck Putin” — a moral confection

Just the other day, God woke up from an interminable nap that seemed like hours, but really had begun roundabout the 3rd Century BCE, after God had popped just half of a Divine Tizanidine.

.

An angel came to collect the divine bedpan, which was full of chalcedony and sardonyx crystals. God asked the angel how things were going on Earth.

“Um.” The angel scuttled out of the Holy of Holies bed chamber. “Oh boy, better find Gabriel!”

By the time Gabriel received the news that the Omnipresent One had awakened, it was a bit too late. A roar unlike a roar—more an infinite cacophony of pissed-offedness—tore the fabric of space-time, and even unspace-untime.

Those with spiritually discerning ears the Universe over heard what sounded like “What the fuck!!!!” in all mortal and immortal tongues.

“Oh boy,” said Gabriel, who booked a quick flight to a Universe several dimensions over and which was known for its lovely cabanas and tasty liqueurs.

The reason God yawlped such an Almighty yawlp was simple: human beings, who had been vested with a quasi-Imago Dei—via a very unique Evolutionary Blueprint—with opposable thumbs, significant brain-cases, correctly angled larynxes for speech, bipedalism, and non-retracting male genitalia, etc., had all but wasted their anatomical and cerebral gifts on centuries of bloodthirsty war, greed, slavery, trafficking, lawn darts and general ill-will to their fellow humans, animals and the itself—not to mention the recent creations of the DCEU and alcoholic seltzer. (Also, God had serious questions about narrative continuity in “The Book of Boba Fett.”)

At any rate, God decided not to waste anyone’s time with a response. Nor shall this narrator waste any time in recounting it.

With a snap of God’s immortal, Michael-manicured fingers, all of humanity was relieved of its extraordinary gifts. And all of these wonderful characteristics were instead bestowed upon all cats and tree kangaroos.

Of a sudden, all human beings found themselves with 8 fingers and no thumbs. Cats everywhere (and tree kangaroos) suddenly found themselves in a delightful state of polydactyl “grip-ability.”

Several billion Mitten Hand former humans also now had brains hardly capable of doing anything other than seeking catnip and tuna. When they weren’t napping all day, they found themselves with the constant, frustrating urge to climb trees and hunt small songbirds, but without the ability to do either. The male Mitten Hand apes also had small, retracting, conical penises—which more of less quashed the protective cup industry overnight.

For God, this wasn’t enough. Humans, God decided, should no longer enjoy the ability to communicate via language. So God conferred upon all Hand Mitten apes the ability only to communicate in monotone quacks. Ducks, by the way, really got off on this, as nothing sounds more stupid to a duck than a meaningless “kvak!”

It wasn’t long before most Hand Mitten apes died of starvation. Some were taken in as pets by super-sentient cats and tree kangaroos, but they were always very careful to keep their Hand Mitten apes on short leashes.

In short, God was pleased by these actions. God especially enjoyed listening to the monotonous quacking of a former Russian dictator, who, for the rest of his Hand Mitten mortal days, was made to wade in a kiddie pool filled with goat innards.

God yawned. Intervention in Creation made the Omnipotent One ever so tired. God popped the other half of the Divine Tizanidine tablet and went back to bed.