I don’t believe this.

Now, obviously “nepotism” isn’t an accusation one just throws without reason, but when a person ascends to Heaven and is given everlasting dominion and glory and kingdom on their first day, well, what else are you supposed to call that? Monarchical theocracy?

Please. Spare me.

Of course, it’s not like I’m surprised. I’ve always been treated like the Holy Trinity’s version of myrrh. You don’t bless yourself in the name of “The Father, The Holy Spirit, and The Son.” And yes, I realize having me at the end works better rhythmically. But that’s beside the point. I’m here to dot the Is and literally cross the Ts.

Or take The Apostle’s Creed. Twelve lines, right? You know many are about Christ? Six. Six! And then, once his half of the Creed is over, they get to me, starting with, “I believe in the Holy Spirit,” before ending with, “I believe in the Holy Spirit.” Yeah. Not, “I believe in The Holy Spirit, who by the way it just so happens gave us Apostles the ability to speak in all languages the Word of God, meaning technically this Creed doesn’t exist without it.” Nope. Just “I believe in the Holy Spirit.” Wonderful. Thanks for the vote of confidence, guys.

I really wish you could have seen my face when I read that for the first time. Although I wish you could have seen my face, anywhere, period, ‘cause apparently, depending on which artist you ask, I’m either a dove, or the wind, or a flame, or tongues of fire, or three men as one, or three men as one, except with beards. I’ve never been to the Tretyakov Gallery in Moscow, but something tells me underneath Andrei Rublev’s Trinity I’m identified as “And friend.”

Oh, and if there was a Book of Genesis of The Bible, it’d probably say something like: “And The Father said to the Holy Spirit, ‘I have for you a task, one of significance universal and eternal.’ And the Holy Spirit was joyous, and asked what was to be done. And The Father said, ‘I need you to dictate something for me.’ And the Holy Spirit was less joyous, and asked what was to be dictated. And The Father said, ‘Everything I have ever done and said since the beginning of time.’ And the Holy Spirit was now joyless, and to himself asked what was to be the difference between the Holy Spirit and a secretary, but decided to bite his apparently flammable tongue.”

And this unwillingness to rock the ark, so to speak, well, it’s all Satan’s fault. If he hadn’t been banished from Heaven, then there wouldn’t have been a Hell, and I wouldn’t have questioned whether the idea of good and evil is that simple, and suggested there be some kind of grey area, at which point The Father wouldn’t have said, “The Grey Area, eh? I like it”, and told me to oversee it, which I assumed was his way of rewarding me for taking initiative, until I quickly realized it was a punishment:

Imagine being a substitute teacher in a class made entirely of C students; You tell them to learn whatever lesson they’re supposed to learn, and when they inevitably claim to have already done it, you tell them to put their head down and sit in silence, so that the only noise is the sound of The Eagles’ Their Greatest Hits (1971-75) playing over the loudspeaker, and soon enough your mind wanders, and you just sit there, thinking.

You think about whether you can literally be bored to death, and decide not because if so that would have already happened, and besides even if you did, you’d probably just end up back here. You think about that time you saw that woman walking down the sidewalk, and her pocketbook slipping off her left shoulder as she readjusted a bag of groceries on her right knee, and how since sidewalks are actually horizontal escalators the pocketbook starts drifting away from her toward a guy coming in the opposite direction, who just steps right over it without breaking a stride, and how when he walked by her she thanked him for not stealing it. And then you plan out when to buy your next cup of coffee since doing so will take up your whole afternoon since the lines are always in the triple digits since no one can decide what to order. And you think about how Satan’s probably having a blast torturing people and whatnot, which means he’s the one in Heaven, and here you are in Hell.

Fortunately I learned my lesson. So today, I’ll just chalk this up to the fact that life after death isn’t always fair, and I’ll do what I always do: nothing. And not just because of the bad things that’ll happen to me if I don’t, but also because of the good things that’ll happen if I do, ‘cause apparently so long as I keep up with the meekness, I’m in line for a pretty sweet inheritance.

And until then, hey, at least I have my divinity.