Letter to God, part three.

God:
I really admire the way you struck down the tower of babel in the old testament. I did the same thing when I discovered a nest of hornets on my patio. I thought it was fair. You really don't need people up in your business like that. I also thought that dismantling our language so that no one could understand each other was a nice touch. It was like saying, "And stay out!" without actually having to say it. That was very diplomatic.

Did you intend for the destuction of our language to continue over thousands of years, and if so, are you slowly turning the language sections of our brains into hummus? The reason I ask is because I've noticed a startling increase in the frequency of the word "thingy" when people speak. At work yesterday I was asked to send the "thingy" down to the office. My mechanic told me this morning that I needed a new "thingy" because my old one didn't work anymore. And at church the congregation was asked to put money in the "thingy" that was being passed around.

I fear that one day nouns won't work anymore. I fear that one day I'll ask someone to pass the salt and I'll be viciously attacked because I'll be mistaken for a Frenchman. If you decide not to halt the dillusion of our language, please consider giving me bigger muscles.

Best Wishes,

Phil Atherton

Letter to God, part two.

God:

Thank you for replying to my last letter so quickly. And yes, I will be sure to tell everyone I know that all letters to you should be business format.
How is Mrs. God? Tell her that the brownies she sent me were fantastic. Did I detect a hint of nutmeg?
I appreciate the answer to my question about the colors of the rainbow. I didn't realize that it was actually made of several thousand colors but you created our eyes to group colors into distinct groups. That's very interesting.
I have another question for you. Could you tell John the Baptist to take me off of his mailing list? It's nothing personal. The jokes he sends are very funny, especially the ethnic ones, but I don't like the chain mail he sends. I understand that it's all in good fun, but I don't like being told that my crops won't grow for two years if I don't forward his message.
Enjoy your trip to Athens.

Cordially,
Phil Atherton

Letter to God, part one.

Dear God,

I wasn't sure if this letter should be business format or friendly format. It is, after all, my first time writing to a deity if you don't count the letter I sent to Poseidon after Hurricane Katrina. Perhaps for my first request you could let me know how I should format letters to you in the future.
I've decided that e-mail might be the best way to contact you. I tried to text message you a few weeks ago, but I may have accidentally sent it to my friend Gary whose name is near yours in my list of contacts. I've also become aware of the possibility that my prayers may not be penetrating the vast amounts of radio waves in the atmosphere.
I'm writing to you today because my friend and I were having a philosophical debate that I was hoping you could clarify. My friend says that there are seven colors in the rainbow while I say there are only six. Who the hell really looks at a rainbow and says, "What a lovely shade of indigo"? Who goes to Home Depot to ask for a paint that is an exact match for the indigo which appears in rainbows? Even a leprechaun defending his fabled pot of gold could tell you that there is no indigo. There are three primary colors and the three secondary colors which fit nicely inbetween them to create a circle of monochromatic harmony. Everyone knows that indigo is a tertiary color. A solitary tertiary color among several primary and secondary colors disrupts circles and creates polygons.
I know that you are very busy helping football teams win games, appearing in loaves of bread in Mexico, and trying to discourage people from killing in your name, but I hope you find time to answer my question. TTYL.

Phil