JOB DUTIES

Ages ago Man became the acting supervisor over planet Earth for God — He had other worlds to create — and that’s the day when Man’s worst came out, all mad hungry with unlimited power and everlasting hate, an arrogant, dirty beast running amok, testosterone-fuelled and ready to stick his dick into anything and everything he came upon. Man, after all his strutting and thrusting, engaged his mind’s kill switch and started mutilating, starving, smashing, destroying, gassing, polluting, raping and pillaging the masses worldwide. He obliterated an enormous multitude of the obvious for crowd control purposes: the deviants, the poor, the forgotten, the indigent, the ill, the benign, the putrid, the crippled, the drinkers, the users, the abusers, the different and indifferent, the wise and wisest, the best and the brightest, the liberated and, most of all, the writers, the artists, the intrigued, the interested, the thinking and, very, very rarely, the ones who really deserved it. When, and if, God ever decides to come back here and take over His job duties as supervisor over this world Man, the arrogant, nasty, and unapologetic bastard that he is, will surely be sitting in God’s office chair, feet on the desk, loosening the $500 designer tie, kept tight around his blood thirsty throat, so he can rub his neck to exorcise the tension built up from the endless, vacant, pitiful centuries where he led Mankind into a stinking pile of shit from which he cannot emerge. He’ll calmly flip off the waxed and polished to a bright shine $2000 Italian leather dress shoes and gently remove the $50 French silk socks and wiggle his toes before he tells God what a motherfucking great job he’s done in His absence and — with a big smile across his face since Man is an abhorrent, utterly useless prick who overvalues himself — promptly ask for a raise and an office with a better view.