BLESSED LORD: The time has come, we the congregation pray, to bestow upon thy flock the long-pined manna of yore, yet contemporized, accessorized, blessed with clear-coat and prices right, which—enjoyed first most in remembrance of thee, preceding thy awaited revenuenant, after taxes—delivers us from the toils of our daily walk. This we ask but for our Christian names to resound as the trumpets once did throughout Jericho, destroying metaphorical walls of covetousness, for if fulfilled of our every earthly wish, would we not then become empty decanters to be brimmed over with thy holy spirit? Who at this time has many many thumbs and is beholden to the desire of vainglory? Surprise, O God, it is us, thy frustrated and uncalled dominion. Look with inimitable compassion upon all us seated here, name-tagged and compelled to clap, a blur of faces whirred across a screen, some having allocated five sick days for travel, spotting thy star in the West and hastening without thought to worship thee there. How can one turn away from hearts such as these? You who became poor for our sake, that we might be made rich through your poverty, although let us get real for one moment, Dear Father, thy ever-watchful audience seems to have pulled up a few pages short on the being made rich clause. Wherefore art our Plinko chips? What fabulous trip to Las Vegas awaits us? We beseech thee on occasion of such bountiful loot splayed here before thy restless children, testing us, it so seems, as you once did the Son of Man for forty days among the wilderness, though for He Who Art No Joke you simply dangled rocks and bread, and for us mortal sinners, with what trinkets do you commence thy spiritual trial? HOW ABOUT A TOASTER AND STYLISH LUGGAGE?!? HOW ABOUT A NEW CAR?!? Given the choice, we would humbly accept the forty days, knowing all drawn contracts eventually terminate, but though we have since suspected the game is rigged, we nevertheless abide by your vagaries in patience and in love. So restore to us faith in our provider, here packed row-by-row under insufferable studio lights. Make known your presence to ward ill thoughts against the simpleton who risks a single dollar below the highest bid, those who try for the once-round spin, all Lazuruses of irresolute supplication. Step down through the firmament and spread your wings over us, gracious Lord, for we really really need it. Hast thou ever seen a 1994 Ford Escort? Hast thou had no choice but to pet heavily in the backseat of said chariot, making it no farther than second base? Hast thou filtered coffee through single-ply toilet paper? That is exactly what we, your faithful servants, thought. Whilst we know you created us in your image, were you to take a walk in our shoes now, our shoes which you also created as you created all things, Lord, would ye not find a hitch in thy divine stride, proclaiming, “Wow, what are these pieces of crap made out of, some sort of unrefined plastic? Plus the front’s coming off, making some lame impromptu sandals.” Our constant companions such as these, may they be offered up to you who can bear the weight. By your redeeming spirit, help us so that we, elbow deep in provisions necessary for a less common life, a fair portion of riches pursuant to state and federal codes, can help ourselves. Through Jesus Christ our Lord, invoking nicely? We are here, assembled in praise, cameras rolling, with nowhere else to turn. Creator of all, come on down.
McSWEENEY'S INTERNET TENDENCY'S PATREON
February 20, 2014