Loggeth Ye On The Multitudes And FAQeth: Cancer

by God

OK, I've got about twenty minutes, so let's do this. Yes, I love you all, all my children, infinitely, but for cryin' out loud - DADDY'S WORKING! I need some room to breathe - and my being infinitely huge requires just that much more space sometimes.

First, a FAQ:

Ye The Multitudes: Why oh why God did you create cancer and/or allow cancer to exist? It's so cruel and heartless, vicious and seemingly random - it makes no sense that a truly loving God would allow such an illness to steal the lives from so many of his children.

GOD: Cancer isn't Mine, and I'm bound by My Word to leave it be.

Oh, I'm sure you'll want an explanation for that one...

Remember Genesis when Lucifer and I had that falling-out? I cast him to the pits of Hell beyond the boundaries of my sight and love and all that? That was a hasty decision, granted, but at the time I had absolutely no idea what insurrection was, much less how to deal with it. Anyway, time goes by, I make Earth as an eternal terrestrial paradise, while Louie's assertion that everybody truly wants to overthrow Me kept gnawing at me. Therefore, I put a couple people in the Garden as test subjects and gave them quite literally infinity-minus-one trees from which to choose fruit. That turd Lucifer coerced my perfect creation to turn against me - to eat of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil so they could operate without me, just like he said they would.

Long story short, Louie and I had a bet - if humans would stay happy with their position receiving My infinite gifts for all eternity, I win and Lucifer remains banished from all My creation. If they get all uppity and think they could do my job like Lucifer did, he wins dominion over Earth. He won, obviously, so Earth is his. Yes, I could destroy Satan and his wickedness with my undying might, of course, but that would be turning back on My Word. I can't in good conscience expect My children to hold My name on high if I go around welching on bets that I lost fair and square.

Thus cancer, being of Earth, is Satan's, so I won't stop it. Cancer falls into Satan's efficient production line called Science. He doesn't want to hire angels to do things and give good-paying jobs to honest, hard-working cherubim like I do, so he set up a system of causalities to take care of earthly life operation automatically. Thanks to Science, his profit margins are bulging - AND he gets to go on vacations and stuff. Pretty sweet deal for the wicked little bastard... but to Hell with him.

Cancer is a part of Science, not some pox sent down from the Heavens to condemn the unrighteous and whatnot. Besides, too many good people have been taken by cancer for such a foul thing to be My creation. I'm in no hurry to see any of you up here - infinity is infinity as far as I'm concerned whether it starts when you're forty-three or ninety-three. You My children seem to have caught on to the whole Science thing about five centuries or so ago - keep working on it. Fact is, if cancer didn't attack so many good people, you probably wouldn't go after it so strongly - looks like Satan's little efficiency hang-up may just turn out to be his own undoing.

Here's the deal - you solve cancer, defeat Satan's great machine, show him how wrong he was, then understand how wrong he was, and turn back to worship Me alone, proving I was right about you all along.

Not that I would gloat or anything...

And now, a letter...

To L.J., Bath, OH - I'm not the higher power from whom you should be seeking answers. Try your questions on the dung-for-brains that thought that $14-million-a-year-for-five-rebounds-a-game Buckwheat-zilla-looking Ben Wallace was a wise investment of limited resources. Good game, though.

Jargon For The Terminally Suburban: "Meh" vs. "Feh"

by Dr. Jules "MFWord" Jergenssen, Modern Lexicographer

As a lexicographer, my nose tends to become bent out of joint when I hear words used inappropriately. I am well aware that in this American society, one is free to sound as unenlightened, uneducated, ignorant or out-and-out booger-licking retarded as they wish in the pursuit of perceived coolness, but I also like to think that when given proper contexts, people will choose to sound smarter... or at least "hip".

Recently, confusion has blossomed in the lexicon over the proper use of two different terms of indifference: "meh" and "feh". With indifference growing in prominence in modern culture, correct usage of these crucial expressions of could-give-a-shitdom has reached critical mass. Below, I wish to educate the unhip, out-of-step, and yes, even suburban white parents in the proper dropping of above-referenced bombs.

"Meh" represents the pinnacle of passive indifference. The user of "meh" indicates that he or she is truly incapable of giving half a squirt less about the topic at hand. Often inaccurately interpreted as hostile or snarky, the "Meh" man couldn't be more earnest in his unmovedness. Not only does "Meh" not have a horse in the topical race, he couldn't be arsed to look at the racing form.

"Feh", on the other hand, implies distinct expression of preference, albeit nigh insignificant in magnitude. The astounding versatility of "feh" as an expression of primal acknowledgement makes it best described as the "fuggedaboudit" for the non-New Jerseyan set, although its use in the politely to less-than-politely dismissive context is the denotative source for its comparison and contrast with "meh" herein.

For your better understanding of "meh" and "feh" usage in the wild, I will propose three different answers to the same question. Their related translations should clearly delineate between "meh", "feh" and "FEH!":

"So Jules, what do you think about the Tony Romo - Jessica Simpson thing?"

"Meh." - "I have no opinion upon the topic whatsoever."

"Feh." - "Sounds like celebrichat. I don't do celebrichat. If we could change the topic to one of shared interest, however, I would be glad to engage in conversation with you."

"FEH!" - "My distaste for such pointless drivel is so severe that its mere mention elicits the sensation of a manic-depressive ferret vacating its bowels upon my tongue while herkily dancing the Macarena. You have five seconds to change the topic before I consider dismissing your entire existence as one devoted to the vapid pursuit of feckless dipshittery. Redeem yourself hastily or suffer the coldest shoulder experienced outside of Jeffrey Dahmer's meat freezer!"

Dear readers, you may now consider yourselves enlightened on the uses in various contexts of "meh" versus "feh". Be ye wiser in their dispensation and cautious in pronunciation of their disparate h's.

Graxog Reporting: "Relaxation"

by Graxog, Earth Study Advance Team Leader from Planet Eidelor IV

Previous reports confirmed - the spottily-haired bipeds called "Humans" are indeed the dominant life form upon this planet. Their behaviors, especially those unique to Humans among all Earthly lifeforms, merit further study.

Per Eidelor regulation sociological observance protocol, I shall begin studying Humans by observing the highest ranking Humans (as determined by relative reverence proferred them) in the most advanced and/or powerful cultures. These Humans (who tend to be paler, balder, doughier and more likely to evacuate liquid biowaste in a standing position) frequently mention a need for an activity called "Relaxation".

I observed a small herd of such Humans engaging in this activity by assuming the form of a common indiginous winged creature most often found in similar climes as this Relaxation. To alleviate Human suspicion, I disengaged all recording media and occasionally defecated on a statue to blend in, thus all accounts are strictly from memory.

Apparently, Relaxation is a group activity involving petty mockery, self-induced frustration, masochistic infuriation, kilometers of angry walking and oddly-shaped sticks. The object is to place a 5 cm dimpled spheriod often called by those engaged in Relaxation as the "Ball" or "Filthy Cocksucker" into a 9 cm hole hundreds of meters away in as few attempts as possible by striking it with the aforementioned sticks. Between the site at which the Filthy Cocksucker is originally struck and the hole of its intentioned disposition lie sand pits, water bodies, hills, trees, and vegetation of various lengths. The only apparent purpose of these unfortunate geological formations known as "Hazards" or "Goat-Fucking Whores" is to hinder or redirect the progress of the Filthy Cocksucker toward the hole.

An hours-long physical exercise in futility, inefficiency and discomfort, this Relaxation must serve the role of a cautionary tale - a refresher in living metaphor on the obstacles to success which they clearly must avoid in their daily endeavors. In some ways, these leader Humans are to be commended for their dedication to their station - time which Eideloran leaders would find appropriate for recreation, Human leaders commit to humbling exercises in susceptibility through Relaxation. Perhaps my evaluation is tinged by my cultural bias, but were I offered the opportunity to engage in Relaxation, I would rather get laid.