Call me Helios. Some people find my Greek name too stuffy, and prefer the Roman "Sol. " No offense, but I think Sol sounds too ethnic. Now, "Rah, the sun god" I like. If that makes me an elitist, so be it. I am a god, after all, and believe in entitlement. If not for me and my fellow immortals, who would the rest of you look to as role models? Mere mortals? Give me a break!
I'm writing this blog (under a mortal pseudonym) in protest of a recent statement by one of America's candidates for president. He said, and I'm paraphrasing, "we are a country that believes in a single God." Now look, that hurts. We gods predate this new-fangled notion of a single deity. It's a hard enough job for each of us as it is. How could any one man (and, yeah, He is a "man) be expected to do it all, even if He were, in fact, able to hear all your prayers all the time. That's a lot to expect, no?
Clearly, the ancient Hebrews were onto something with this "single deity" notion. They understood the principles of good marketing. As the kids say on their tweets, KISS (that's "Keep it simple, stupid," for you mortals over fifty). Look, it's easy to pray to one deity; a single prayer to one God saves time and simplifies things. Why bend in supplication to a bunch of gods and goddesses who may or not hear your pleas, when a single guy can help or ignore you in accordance with His divine plan. Hey, the Christians knew a good thing when they saw it and stuck with this notion; even gave him a son to be his earthly messenger. Cool, huh? I mean, who's going to give Jesus the kind of hard time the Jews gave poor old Moses? Mess with him, you're messing with his old man, who--after all--decides whether you have Sunday brunch with him once a week or burn in Hell. (Now of course, he was crucified, which was a terrible thing, but he was resurrected and his divine words can no longer be doubted.) The Muslims stayed with this revelation thing, making Mohammed the messenger of God. Not only can't you question his discussions with Allah, you can't put his photo on your mantlepiece, even if you'd like to. Trust me, don't go there. See, this way, each religion has a special guy with whom God had one-on-ones that he alone revealed to the masses. (Centuries later, a fellow named Joseph Smith picked up on this gig and--voila--the Latter Day Saints were born, and later gave birth to an award winning Musical of their very own!)
So rather than know that Ceres controls whether or not your corn crop will (forgive me) come a cropper, recognize that those windy days come to you courtesy of my main breeze, Athena, or those forest fires, from the my Italian paisan Vulcan, you figure this one guy (you call Yaweh, Allah, Adonai, or Lord--not "person" "Hashem" or any unisex euphemism if you're even allowed to say his name out loud) can do it all.
Look, I remember this guy you refer to as God, knew him when he called himself Zeus back in the day (Jupiter to his friends). Had it all. His wife Hera (pet name: Juno) was beautiful, smart and--forgive me for sounding a bit chauvinist--easy on the eyes. Now don't get me wrong, Zeus was a good guy, stern, a bit full of himself, but look, he was King of the gods and if not him, who? Get my drift? We knew he was primus inter pares, but he understood that each of us had our roles and responsibilities. He was a good delegator, and things worked pretty well for many centuries. What's particularly annoying is that the only god who still thrives in the popular imagination is Hades. They've got more names for this cat than Carter has little liver pills--Satan, Lucifer, the devil, Beelzebub, your choice. When people fall in love do they thank Eros or Cupid? No, they think it's their good looks, stylish attire, or latest tat. But Hades (or "Pluto," until Walt Disney co-opted the name for a dog, no less) still rules. People are still scared to death that he'll corrupt their sons and daughters and consign them to an eternity of damnation. And one other scary dude who is never out of work is Mars, although countries seem to spend more time worshiping at the feet of that old warlord than they do praying for peace but--hey--that's what he's always been counting on. So here's my point, when you pray to the "big fellow" (as we used to call him back in Valhalla), you're putting all your eggs in one divine basket. With us gods, it's like a sound investment policy--diversify. Phoebus may turn her back on you and keep you in darkness, but Eros may send someone you can snuggle with until the sun (ta-da, that's me) shines again on your back door.
Okay, enough of my sour grapes (Sorry, Bacchus, I didn't mean that the way it sounded). All I'm asking for is a little praise for my fellow gods and goddesses where praise is due. I mean, for Christ's sake, there are entire hymnals devoted to singing His and his Daddy's praises. What do I get--"Here Comes the Sun," "That Lucky Old Sun," "I've Got the Sun in the Morning and the Moon at Night"--maybe a few others? Nice tunes and all, but still!
So when all your earthly politicians are falling over each other as to which one has the inside track to your single God, spare some thoughts to the gods and goddesses who once did your bidding, and now have joined the swelling ranks of the unemployed; yesterday's news. At one time you could have prayed to Athena for wisdom, but now she spends her time watching daytime talk shows at a nursing home Juno runs for retired gods and godesses. Talk about "Twilight of the gods," we're in divine hibernation for God's sake!
I'm writing this blog (under a mortal pseudonym) in protest of a recent statement by one of America's candidates for president. He said, and I'm paraphrasing, "we are a country that believes in a single God." Now look, that hurts. We gods predate this new-fangled notion of a single deity. It's a hard enough job for each of us as it is. How could any one man (and, yeah, He is a "man) be expected to do it all, even if He were, in fact, able to hear all your prayers all the time. That's a lot to expect, no?
Clearly, the ancient Hebrews were onto something with this "single deity" notion. They understood the principles of good marketing. As the kids say on their tweets, KISS (that's "Keep it simple, stupid," for you mortals over fifty). Look, it's easy to pray to one deity; a single prayer to one God saves time and simplifies things. Why bend in supplication to a bunch of gods and goddesses who may or not hear your pleas, when a single guy can help or ignore you in accordance with His divine plan. Hey, the Christians knew a good thing when they saw it and stuck with this notion; even gave him a son to be his earthly messenger. Cool, huh? I mean, who's going to give Jesus the kind of hard time the Jews gave poor old Moses? Mess with him, you're messing with his old man, who--after all--decides whether you have Sunday brunch with him once a week or burn in Hell. (Now of course, he was crucified, which was a terrible thing, but he was resurrected and his divine words can no longer be doubted.) The Muslims stayed with this revelation thing, making Mohammed the messenger of God. Not only can't you question his discussions with Allah, you can't put his photo on your mantlepiece, even if you'd like to. Trust me, don't go there. See, this way, each religion has a special guy with whom God had one-on-ones that he alone revealed to the masses. (Centuries later, a fellow named Joseph Smith picked up on this gig and--voila--the Latter Day Saints were born, and later gave birth to an award winning Musical of their very own!)
So rather than know that Ceres controls whether or not your corn crop will (forgive me) come a cropper, recognize that those windy days come to you courtesy of my main breeze, Athena, or those forest fires, from the my Italian paisan Vulcan, you figure this one guy (you call Yaweh, Allah, Adonai, or Lord--not "person" "Hashem" or any unisex euphemism if you're even allowed to say his name out loud) can do it all.
Look, I remember this guy you refer to as God, knew him when he called himself Zeus back in the day (Jupiter to his friends). Had it all. His wife Hera (pet name: Juno) was beautiful, smart and--forgive me for sounding a bit chauvinist--easy on the eyes. Now don't get me wrong, Zeus was a good guy, stern, a bit full of himself, but look, he was King of the gods and if not him, who? Get my drift? We knew he was primus inter pares, but he understood that each of us had our roles and responsibilities. He was a good delegator, and things worked pretty well for many centuries. What's particularly annoying is that the only god who still thrives in the popular imagination is Hades. They've got more names for this cat than Carter has little liver pills--Satan, Lucifer, the devil, Beelzebub, your choice. When people fall in love do they thank Eros or Cupid? No, they think it's their good looks, stylish attire, or latest tat. But Hades (or "Pluto," until Walt Disney co-opted the name for a dog, no less) still rules. People are still scared to death that he'll corrupt their sons and daughters and consign them to an eternity of damnation. And one other scary dude who is never out of work is Mars, although countries seem to spend more time worshiping at the feet of that old warlord than they do praying for peace but--hey--that's what he's always been counting on. So here's my point, when you pray to the "big fellow" (as we used to call him back in Valhalla), you're putting all your eggs in one divine basket. With us gods, it's like a sound investment policy--diversify. Phoebus may turn her back on you and keep you in darkness, but Eros may send someone you can snuggle with until the sun (ta-da, that's me) shines again on your back door.
Okay, enough of my sour grapes (Sorry, Bacchus, I didn't mean that the way it sounded). All I'm asking for is a little praise for my fellow gods and goddesses where praise is due. I mean, for Christ's sake, there are entire hymnals devoted to singing His and his Daddy's praises. What do I get--"Here Comes the Sun," "That Lucky Old Sun," "I've Got the Sun in the Morning and the Moon at Night"--maybe a few others? Nice tunes and all, but still!
So when all your earthly politicians are falling over each other as to which one has the inside track to your single God, spare some thoughts to the gods and goddesses who once did your bidding, and now have joined the swelling ranks of the unemployed; yesterday's news. At one time you could have prayed to Athena for wisdom, but now she spends her time watching daytime talk shows at a nursing home Juno runs for retired gods and godesses. Talk about "Twilight of the gods," we're in divine hibernation for God's sake!
