Crash Test Dummies of an Imperfect God

Because we are so stupid, the prizes in Cracker Jacks are now paper so they can be swallowed, ladders spackled with warnings. No getting within a hundred feet of Stonehenge because everyone wants to hack off a souvenir and the way home is clogged to one lane so whoever wants to can stare into a pothole until coming up with a grievance. I’d vote the greatest accomplishment of mankind is the pickle spear. God created paradise to tell us Get out! which is why we probably created God who doesn’t much like being created by ilk like us. No wonder it’s pediatrics every morning and toxicology by happy hour. Is it all in the mind, the dirty, dirty mind? Maybe God tried to turn you into a garbage can so you could be lifted by the truck’s hydraulic arms and banged empty. Maybe a snow cone so you could be sticky-sweet and dropped. Maybe a genital-faced bivalve to be dashed with Tabasco and eaten whole or, to his glory, produce a pearl.