DEAR READERS: Have you seen God? He really seems to be AWOL! I need to alert him to the fact that Americans are selling their souls in droves and at wholesale prices—increasingly so, and every damn day. Do you think he’s aware of what is going on? If you do hear from God, would you please pass on the phone message I just left for him. It’s urgent! Tell God when you see him that he’ll (or she’ll) find my copious other “prayer” messages filed under: “Are you Listening (or paying attention) God?” What follows is the third installment of a “Voicemail Message to God” which is a very short essay on another universal question I wish God would answer about life: “What does it take to sell one’s soul?”
GOD’S VOICEMAIL GREETING: “You’ve reached the voicemail box of Jehovah at 1-800-PRA-TOME. Gone star-gazing in a galaxy far, far away where the beings operate in love and peace, truth and honor. Feel free to leave a message, but I have no idea when I’ll get back to you. I am truly sick and tired of being sick and tired with the human species on Earth and need to clear my head before I do something drastic that I may regret (can you say, “Noah’s Ark?”).
DEAR GOD: It’s Eleanor. Oy vez mir! Do I ever need to talk to you!
My God…did you know that the Anti-Christ has unveiled himself? Right here in America!
My Lord, I looked up the definition of “Anti-Christ,” and the online dictionary said:
“A personal opponent of Christ expected to appear before the end of the world.
A person or thing regarded as supremely evil or as a fundamental enemy or opponent.
A great antagonist expected to fill the world with wickedness but to be conquered forever by Christ at his second coming.”
You might ask why I suspect the President of the United States to be the anti-Christ. I mean, after all, one could easily have said that about Hitler. Well that is why I’m calling — I have proof Trump is the anti-Christ: People are selling their souls to him left, right, and center. Just last week, a famous Black rapper (Kanye West) ripped out his soul, barbecued it on the altar of Trump, and served it up as pâté on a cracker. It was a sight to behold: degrading, embarrassing, disgusting, and horrific. It was like watching a massive train wreck and not being able to turn away from the carnage.
A couple weeks before that debacle with Kanye West and Trump, a man was confirmed to the Supreme Court (Brett Kavanaugh)—ushered onto the bench by the mocking laughter of the Anti-Christ in Chief who led hundreds of contemptuous supporters at a rally against the woman Kavanaugh allegedly assaulted. As the crowd screamed “Lock her up,” all I could do was weep for myself and every woman who has tried to tell someone her story of assault, only not to be believed and ridiculed in the process.
God, I don’t know if you were watching, but Kavanaugh was not proven innocent. All those mockers at the rally, and the old angry White men in the Senate sold their souls to Trump and rushed through a man temperamentally unfit (at the very least) to sit on the Supreme Court. The problem is that I prayed 24/7 for you to vindicate Dr. Ford. Since you didn’t return my call, I’m now praying that you flush out the truth on this dude with irrefutable evidence, and that in doing so, you jettison his sorry ass off the bench. If he lied—if he’s hiding something—save us from him and all the other Republicans who sold their souls on Kavanaugh’s behalf.
In the meantime, while the anti-Christ in the Oval Office cozies up to yet another brutal dictator, I’m watching to see which politicians and religious leaders carry the train of Saudi Arabia’s Mohammed bin Salman’s robe as they rush to sell their souls over the brutal murder of Jamal Khashoggi. Pat Robertson (Head of the Christian Broadcasting Network) cashed his soul in yesterday when he said, “You’ve got one journalist — who knows? Was it an interrogation? Was he assassinated? Were there rogue elements? Who did it…? You’ve got $100 billion worth of arms sales…we cannot alienate our biggest player in the Middle East.”
My question to Pat Robertson: Who brings a bone saw to an interrogation?
Mitt Romney is in the process of relinquishing his soul as he tries to make his way back to the Senate. Because you see all and hear all, I know you remember Romney being solidly in the never-Trump camp when he said:
“Dishonesty is Donald Trump’s hallmark … He’s not of the temperament of the kind of stable, thoughtful person we need as a leader. His imagination must not be married to real power … Donald Trump is a phony, a fraud. His promises are as worthless as a degree from Trump University. He’s playing the members of the American public for suckers … He has neither the temperament nor the judgment to be president.”
Oy, that was in 2016 when Romney had no power. Now that he seems to be a shoe-in to the Senate and can sniff power like the intoxicating aroma of fresh brewed coffee, here’s the script he cashed in for his soul on Oct. 17th: Trump’s policies “have been pretty effective, and I support a lot of those policies.”
So here is my question sweet Jesus: how much is a soul worth these days? We Americans are a little confused, and I think we’re selling our souls much too cheaply since I hear the final cost is eternal damnation. What say you, My Lord?
Looking forward to hearing from you…
WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR? Check out her website at www.eleanortomczyk.com
THE AUTHOR’S LATEST BOOKS: Monsters’ Throwdown, Fleeing Oz, The Fetus Chronicles on sale now at Amazon!
WANT TO HEAR THE AUTHOR’S LATEST PODCAST INTERVIEW? http://breadboxmedia.podbean.com/e/what-if-it-is-true-can-you-find-faith-in-darkness/
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.