Gods Will Be Gods

Fine. Have it your way. I’ll play your game then, but my game was better. Let’s play Good and Bad. 1 or 2. Yes or No. Go big and go home. Fine. You win. Time to be God. You get to judge since we’re all so adept at interpretation.

Announcer: If you’re a total dumb fuck just tuning in, maybe, maybe In and Out, of the Channel, looking for something better (never mind was better), give me five seconds to love you because you’re net worth, but look no further. All you seek is in the coliseum. I’m going to take a second now to take you out of the game with my booming voice to distract you from the hook. Check out these stats and muscle. Look here, in the physical. I got something to sell.

And here come the usurpers, steel dressed emperors. Pretty clothes, don’t you think so Thomas? Oh, indeed. Indeed ibelieve. It’s a miracle in the making. O don’t doubt it at all. Lovely clothes on them all. Shall we strip them? Yes, yes. Bring out the boasting lions. Set the time on the crow to 3. Here they go.

Thumbs up or thumbs down? You know how to play. You do so every day.

Who should we judge first? School shooter? Hahaha. Too easy. Anthony stole a diamond bracelet from a white woman. Leon molested two girls. Anthony is black, reason unknown, likely he stole for money since he didn’t have much honey. Leon is white need I go on? You can only choose one to save. Who will it be?

You chose Leon. Anthony lost his job. Anthony was imprisoned. He had to pay fines he couldn’t afford. Leon knew this and didn’t care. Leon knew to keep those around him intimidated. He hung Anthony. That’s the justice for which you did lust in the azaleas. The white woman didn’t even know the bracelet existed. But, mmmm. Justice, sweet white cream. Justice. Justice. Sweet white dream. Justice sweet, my dream.

Oh, don’t be mad. You play God all the time. Every second of every day, even as you sleep. With every

criticism,
critique,
catcall,
eye glare,

I stare,

eye roll,
I declare!
Bankruptcy!

Bankruptcy in you all. Thomas, let the gavel fall!

Shall we get on with it? Gods don’t wait, and we have tons of souls we don’t know to cast upon. Flex!

Person with tats, piercings, weird hair? Kill them? Why not? No. Not some. All or none. Pick! Now. They’re different. Kill them. Slackers and addicts all of them! Punks. Back in my day we were boring. Yawn. End them. Do it! What are you waiting on?

Women having sex and abortions and rights? Kill them? Pick! They can’t have both. Rights or none. Pick one. Damn it! Do it. Make the call! You’re God. Judge them! Kill them all.

Minorities and their constant bitching about rights. Pick! We don’t owe them shit. We didn’t do it. All or none. Like the women. Pick fucking one! Now! If you judged one you judged all. And you did. Didn’t you? I know you. Did.

Politicians. Fuck them.
Right?

OR…

Left?

Kill them. Pick a color, any color. Blue. Red. Green. Yellow. Doesn’t matter. It’s all spew and spatter. Doesn’t matter what they mean. Love the corporations as thy self. That’s the first commandant. Pick the one who speaks your judgements. Then kill whoever is left because you can’t trust them and anyway you’re God. You don’t need law. Now! Kill them. Kill them all!

Gays or frogs? Pick! One! Now! Can’t have both and from the decline in frogs (you already judged science, so here we are), I’d say the gays are winning. Yes! Oh! No! Which way to go? Rainbows! Kill them. Do it. Judge them like you do. Love them like YOU. Do it!

Everyone below your social and financial class. Everyone with a different religion. Different look. Whores. Fakers. Victims. Snowflakes. Zealots. They’re all idiots. Yes, yes, yes. Drink in all your godlike power and take solace in the perceived validity of your superiority. Kill them all. All! Now! Do it!

The single mother, the homeless fuck, the boss, the coworker, the weirdos, the creeps, the losers, the unable, the different, the oddities, you’re better than them! Aren’t you? Yes! You are. You say it all day. All day. I hear you. The world hates and the world hears. You’re right! You’re perfect! You. You. You. Kill the rest. You don’t need them because you know you’re better. Kill them all. All! All! All!

Now who’s next?

Oh. Oh, well, isn’t that poetic, Thomas. Indeed I never doubted. You’re so right! There’s only you now, you horrible, awful wretch. It’s just the two of us now. No one left to judge but you and self.

You’re alone with you. Alone with me. Alone with all our sanctity. Praise you. Well done. You’re lonely now? Dissatisfied? But Iyou could do it so much better were Iyou in charge and everyone was Iyou. It’s what Iyou want. IYou said it was truth.

But you’re God. This is your world! Praise whatever’s left! Hallelujah! Mine will be done. Let it echo because victory is hollow. So low. It has to be an echo because now…

You’re getting the justice you gave, the justice you crave. Sweet white dream. So pure in your perfection. Washed clean.

But I don’t think it’s what you want.

But, how to judge you? I guess you won’t kill yourself because clearly you’re perfect. You’ve judged yourself a judge. You’re so free now and high and mighty. But dead. Because you couldn’t have made it through your own final cull. You judged yourself too. Let the gavel fall hardest on you.

Game over. Time’s up! 0ver. Now!

But wait. There’s reality. Gomez! Stop laughing. This isn’t funny. They’ll lose, they’re heads.

Everyone you see is judging you based on something controllable. Your genetics are so dysfunctional. Pesky things. So glad I got mine right at birth, I say as I push my spectacle up my downturned nose with one pinky finger raised, I say, I say.

Thomas, you are flying high tonight. I hope the hungry things find you perfectly imperfect as you are when it’s your turn to be judge.

Other

Wise,

WE

All

Fall

Up.

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