Saturday, May 16, 2015
There has been a lot of talk around here about me being a prophet of the gods. Alas that it is all self-generated. If the New York Times opinion section kept publishing pieces suggesting that I am a prophet of god I could quietly demur. I could humbly say "Gosh, well, that's pretty strong stuff. I make no claims for myself, but the New York Times is very authoritative, don't you think? It only tends to mislead when it comes to money and politics and power and privilege and race and class and human nature. But I've always found them reliable on the subject of Prophets of God. So, um, you'll have to make up your own mind."
But I have yet to see a New York Times Op-Ed that mentions me even glancingly. Out of caution they rarely even use the letters that appear commonly in my name.
And thus I end up having to do everything myself!
When you tell everyone you're a Prophet of God the burden that falls on you is not to prove that you are, indeed, a prophet of god, but, rather, to prove that you aren't crazy. If you can just prove that you aren't crazy then 90% of the battle is already won!
I'm not crazy!
Wait, that doesn't sound right.
Crazy is like speeding in an area with an unreasonably low speed limit. Sure I'm going 30 mph in a 15 mph zone, but so is everyone else. I am not going 90. That's the main point.
No, wait, that's not the main point.
The main point is that when it's time to do the dishes, I, within a reasonable frame of time, do the dishes. I don't say "I AM THE PROPHET OF GOD!" That's the main point. When I am at a soiree and someone asks me what I do, I say "I work at a library." I don't say "I am a Prophet of God."
Though, admittedly, I am thinking of switching that.