UNREMITTING FAILURE: Sunday Musings

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It was Sunday, day of rest for God after six difficult days of world building, people building, animal building, and he was flat on his ass reading the real estate section of the New York Times--could anybody afford an apartment in Galilee, for Christ's sake?--when he realized he'd forgotten to create the apple. The apple! The very doomsday device he was counting upon to expel the unashamedly naked human couple from the Garden of Eden so that he could build a series of sweet condominiums on the site. So he had to get off his butt, run in his bedroom slippers down to his basement workshop, and create the apple. It wasn't as easy as he thought it would be. His first design looked more like a watermelon, and it dangled heavily from the tree of knowledge bending the bough with its sheer weight, and it was purple like an eggplant, and the whole thing was so absurd he got pissed and threw the prototype out the window, where it hit a schmuck named Job. He already had the pear, it would have been ideal, but one look at the garden revealed that Adam was already munching on one and it was too fucking late. Someday Adam would have to put on a shirt, that was for sure, the fucker had coarse black hairs growing on his shoulders and back. A nice Izod LaCoste, thought the Lord, would remedy that, and some khaki trousers and some boat shoes. But in the meantime he had an apple to build, which was difficult because he couldn't decide whether to make the builder of the Ark (sure, it was down the road, but one had to think ahead) this guy named Shlomo who would have mad woodworking skills or this other dark horse named Noah, Noah Bamberger to be exact, who was just stupid enough to build the damn thing and collect all the animals that would have to ride out the storm on it. And then he got distracted because he couldn't decide whether to call REO Speedwagon's breakout LP "Ridin' the Storm Out" (the title came to him thinking about the Great Flood) or, in a more humorous vein, "You Can Tune a Piano But You Can't Tuna Fish." REO, he thought smiling--he had big plans for those guys. Them and the Eagles, and Journey--of course there would have to be thousands of bands, but that didn't mean God didn't have his favorites. But first he had to create the apple or there would be no REO Speedwagon, which was really what everything that happened up to that point--all the wars, the Renaissance, James Brown, the plagues of locusts and whatnot, and earth shoes--was all leading up to. People would wonder about God, and what his intentions were, and whether he cared or didn't care or micromanaged (of course he micromanaged) or just sat back and watched or had a long beard (sure he did, although he was thinking of shaving) and lived in Heaven above (don't be ridiculous, he lived in Beverly Hills), when all they really had to know was that Creation was just his way of being able to listen to "Time for Me to Fly." But back to the apple, and its 7,500 cultivated varieties. Suddenly God had a headache.