Oh, Sweet Jesus, what a sight that must have been: all those gods gathered in New York, all those flying reptiles from long before there were any gods at all, and even a chance to dunk Jesus, if you didn't get body slammed by an Easter bunny!
That was quite a day they had in New York! Those of us who live out toward the edge of things, or in the middle of things, have to admit that New York is an exciting place, occasionally, if you can afford a few days there, or can find a flat to live in, even one that long since has been tilting toward the tracks, with or without heat.
In a single section of the New York Times newspaper--which those of us who live out toward the edge or the center of things shall have to be quick to admit is one of the finest newspapers in the world--they reported that New York is hosting a Gathering of Gods From Places Long Forgotten, a Rebirth of Flying Reptiles, and an Easter Carnival called Full Bunny Contact where you can "Shoot the Peep", and dunk Jesus.
As the Koch brothers and the U. S. Supreme Court are teaching us, if you have enough money you can buy a lot of expensive free speech, and even convince a lot of gods to get together at a museum. I am no stranger to conventions of that sort, having attended more theological conferences than I would like to recall, but the Metropolitan Museum of Art persuaded an entire--I guess "shitload" of gods is the wrong adjective--passel of Cambodian, Indonesian, Thai and Vietnamese gods to meet in New York for a conference.
I am no stranger to a gathering of gods: I have taken oral and written exams in search of Absolute Truth, and while I should hesitate to say that I distinguished myself, I did escape alive. I even once attended the lectures of a certain Joseph Ratzinger, in Germany, before he became Pope Benedict the Something. That was before the Cardinals elected someone people actually liked. I cannot remember his name, but he is from Argentina, or somewhere else down south, by which I do not mean South Carolina.
Lord knows that I do not want to criticize the Metropolitan Museum of Art, but do you not think that at least a few gods more familiar to those of us of European or African or Oklahoman descent should have been invited? You know, Baal, or Jehovah, or Woody Guthrie? Most of the gods in attendance were from--I don't know for certain--about 1,000 B.C., or B.C.E., or A.B. (about Buddha), I guess.
Anyway, gods do not travel well; they chip, or crumble, and tumble, so that they gathered, at all, is simply amazing. Not just amazing: simple, too.
The American Museum of Natural History had an exhibit of critters quite a bit older than any known gods. They featured flying reptiles! You could line up all the gods in the world, front to back, or however you prefer them, and they would not reach much more than a few fathoms, or leagues, toward the time when dinosaurs ruled the earth, long before there were any gods, or human beings, or ordained ministers. You know, maybe 200 million years ago! Moses and Buddha and Jesus and the Beatles were not even gleams in the eyes of the most ambitious reptile when they lived. That was half a rotation of the Milky Way ago!
Anyway, I have not been able to think my way through the fact that flying dinosaurs with twenty-foot wingspans existed long before any of the gods were invented! And that is probably a good thing, too! Several of the gods from India had several arms, but that would have been a sad defense against a flying alligator!
It took someone like the people who created Full Bunny Contact to put all of this really serious business into perspective. Full Bunny is not quite a White House Easter Egg Roll party. The bunnies, apparently, are more like blocking halfbacks, rather more in the way than helpful to those of us who are just trying to find something to believe in. I kind-of understand how much fun Shoot the Peep might be, because I grew up with chickens, although I have no idea what they mean, but having spent a good share of my life oppressed by the suggestion that both Jesus and Jimmy Carter know the secrets of my heart, I completely understand why it might be great fun to throw a baseball and dunk Jesus.
But I will also admit to a great sadness. Like having to admit that it would never have occurred to me to go to France and live the Life of Dissipation on the West Bank, or the East Bank, or wherever it was where people who were going to become world-famous were drinking, and telling lies, and laughing, and drawing pictures and humming musical themes, it never once occurred to me to book a flight to New York just to be there when the gods all got together, and probably visited the reptile exhibit, and maybe dunked Jesus.
No. No. I am resigned to an ordinary life, just trying to get a ragged conception of how long 200 million years is, and how recently we invented gods. I am groping toward what it is to understand how long is time, and how huge is space, and many goofy ideas it is possible to imagine along the way.
I will report back to you once I have gotten it all into place.
In the meantime, I think I will have a glass of that Pinot Noir.
That was quite a day they had in New York! Those of us who live out toward the edge of things, or in the middle of things, have to admit that New York is an exciting place, occasionally, if you can afford a few days there, or can find a flat to live in, even one that long since has been tilting toward the tracks, with or without heat.
In a single section of the New York Times newspaper--which those of us who live out toward the edge or the center of things shall have to be quick to admit is one of the finest newspapers in the world--they reported that New York is hosting a Gathering of Gods From Places Long Forgotten, a Rebirth of Flying Reptiles, and an Easter Carnival called Full Bunny Contact where you can "Shoot the Peep", and dunk Jesus.
As the Koch brothers and the U. S. Supreme Court are teaching us, if you have enough money you can buy a lot of expensive free speech, and even convince a lot of gods to get together at a museum. I am no stranger to conventions of that sort, having attended more theological conferences than I would like to recall, but the Metropolitan Museum of Art persuaded an entire--I guess "shitload" of gods is the wrong adjective--passel of Cambodian, Indonesian, Thai and Vietnamese gods to meet in New York for a conference.
I am no stranger to a gathering of gods: I have taken oral and written exams in search of Absolute Truth, and while I should hesitate to say that I distinguished myself, I did escape alive. I even once attended the lectures of a certain Joseph Ratzinger, in Germany, before he became Pope Benedict the Something. That was before the Cardinals elected someone people actually liked. I cannot remember his name, but he is from Argentina, or somewhere else down south, by which I do not mean South Carolina.
Lord knows that I do not want to criticize the Metropolitan Museum of Art, but do you not think that at least a few gods more familiar to those of us of European or African or Oklahoman descent should have been invited? You know, Baal, or Jehovah, or Woody Guthrie? Most of the gods in attendance were from--I don't know for certain--about 1,000 B.C., or B.C.E., or A.B. (about Buddha), I guess.
Anyway, gods do not travel well; they chip, or crumble, and tumble, so that they gathered, at all, is simply amazing. Not just amazing: simple, too.
The American Museum of Natural History had an exhibit of critters quite a bit older than any known gods. They featured flying reptiles! You could line up all the gods in the world, front to back, or however you prefer them, and they would not reach much more than a few fathoms, or leagues, toward the time when dinosaurs ruled the earth, long before there were any gods, or human beings, or ordained ministers. You know, maybe 200 million years ago! Moses and Buddha and Jesus and the Beatles were not even gleams in the eyes of the most ambitious reptile when they lived. That was half a rotation of the Milky Way ago!
Anyway, I have not been able to think my way through the fact that flying dinosaurs with twenty-foot wingspans existed long before any of the gods were invented! And that is probably a good thing, too! Several of the gods from India had several arms, but that would have been a sad defense against a flying alligator!
It took someone like the people who created Full Bunny Contact to put all of this really serious business into perspective. Full Bunny is not quite a White House Easter Egg Roll party. The bunnies, apparently, are more like blocking halfbacks, rather more in the way than helpful to those of us who are just trying to find something to believe in. I kind-of understand how much fun Shoot the Peep might be, because I grew up with chickens, although I have no idea what they mean, but having spent a good share of my life oppressed by the suggestion that both Jesus and Jimmy Carter know the secrets of my heart, I completely understand why it might be great fun to throw a baseball and dunk Jesus.
But I will also admit to a great sadness. Like having to admit that it would never have occurred to me to go to France and live the Life of Dissipation on the West Bank, or the East Bank, or wherever it was where people who were going to become world-famous were drinking, and telling lies, and laughing, and drawing pictures and humming musical themes, it never once occurred to me to book a flight to New York just to be there when the gods all got together, and probably visited the reptile exhibit, and maybe dunked Jesus.
No. No. I am resigned to an ordinary life, just trying to get a ragged conception of how long 200 million years is, and how recently we invented gods. I am groping toward what it is to understand how long is time, and how huge is space, and many goofy ideas it is possible to imagine along the way.
I will report back to you once I have gotten it all into place.
In the meantime, I think I will have a glass of that Pinot Noir.
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