Don't You Dare Hang Up

Naturally you wonder how your two .5 gods add up to the Big 1.0.

I mean, what is our flow chart? Who signs off on what? Are we disorganized and contentious like the Norse or Hindu pantheon? Are we odd and dysfunctional and even paradoxical, the kind of godhead you would edge away from on the bus, like the Christian trinity, with two-thirds of it arguing with itself -- "Father, why hast thou forsaken me?" -- while the other third more or less just sits there like Teller in Penn and Teller?

Well, what we are is a kind of give-and-take operation, rough and ready, no standing on ceremony. We email some, talk on the phone now and then, even have a beer once in a while. If my wife and I (oh yeah; Mrs. god .5; no biggie) were doing Thanksgiving this year -- which we aren't but not for religious reasons; we celebrate all major holidays and then some -- Big Pat would probably come over to talk about things such as whether or not we should have a hell. Hells are good for marketing an up-and-coming religion like ours, but they cause all sorts of other problems. Managing them is a bitch, kind of like that in loco parentis thing at universities.

(For instance: Should a hell be a place of torment or a well of loneliness? One is labor intensive and one isn't.)

Anyway, the lines of communication are open, and Big Pat says it's fine with him if I continue to handle the missionary work, and he will bang together some Holy Scripture.

So we're coming along. Is there anything I could say or do that would put you in a priestship today?