Being God And All, Why Did You Stack The Deck

Drink’in With The One On High
Black Hills, South Dakota
Sept. `76

I needed time alone. I was glad I had left the party, and there were
at least three hours of sunlight left. The fifth was still half full,
and once I reached the trail, I put the puppy down, and took a long,
choking, drink. I had never hiked this part of hills before. It was always exciting to hike in the Black Hills. You never knew what to expect. You might stumble upon old bottles, Indian artifacts, or even
abandoned goldmines—all leftovers from the gold rush days in the late
19th century. You had to be careful, though; the allure of the
unexpected could get you in trouble, especially if you were already
half drunk like I was. In fact, in no time at all, I became helplessly
lost. Hoping to see something that would get me back on the path to
the cabins, or at least to civilization, I climbed to the top of a
mountain. The climb–not to mention the fear that overcomes you when lost in the woods– sobered me up. I had carried the puppy most of the way, and it seemed that I had been lost for way too long. The puppy, for sure, wasn’t up for this kind of hike.

From the top of the mountain, I could see trails below, as dark clouds
were rolling in above me. I was apprehensive, but not yet ready to
panic. I decided to walk down to the trail and follow it, but first I
would rest. I took another drink from the vodka bottle, and looked
down at the puppy that was fast asleep at my feet. I looked up at the
sky and started to move slowly around the puppy. I did not want to be
lost; I wanted to be home, in my own house, away form all the
tension that had arisen between C.S. and myself. I continued walking
around the puppy, looking up at the clouds, and then back at the
sleeping dog. The vodka started to go down easier. I felt like I was
in some kind of trance, and then my head started to spin. As I
stumbled, and fell to the ground, I became angry. I looked up and
screamed, “Hey, big guy, what are you looking at?

“Some poor lost drunk, or a joke for your amusement? Do you even care? Is voyeurism your thing? Aw come on, everybody has to get their kicks some way. I’d offer you a drink, but that’s kind of hard to do. I guess I’ll have to drink for both of us. Wow, that’s good stuff—too
bad you can’t enjoy it too. Tell me; am I really worth your time? I
mean, malcontents abound. I’m sure there are more interesting ones
than me! Do you hear me? Admit it! You don’t need me. And, I sure the hell don’t need you. There, now we’re even!

“Wait. Before you go, before we end this little taa-do, I have a
question. Why so shitty a job with creation? What were you thinking?
Being God and all, why did you have to stack the deck? Why so much
unfairness, unhappiness? It’s first class for the few and table scraps
for the many! Talk about shortsightedness! I mean, take me for
instance, when you handed out brains, why so stingy? Talk about a
short shift. Oh, by the way, you missed me in the “talent line” also.
You must have been on coffee break. But, hey, we need all the Mr.
Mediocres of the world—right! Maybe to make you laugh? Forgive me if I’m not amused, though. Down here there’s not much to laugh about;
know what I mean!

“You just love playing with loaded dice, don’t you. We get a heart, and
then you fill it full of holes. Why so little contentment anyway?
What’s that all about? You’d think just getting through the bad times,
the hard times, would make us happy. But noooo! No satisfaction there. For Christ’s sake, there’s only so much to go around. Those who can–take, those who can’t, get diddly squat. You did that—what a guy! Oh, by the way, I haven’t forgotten about love. Your generosity was
overflowing there, or is it lust I’m thinking of? Excuse me! I know
the real thing exists. I got a crash course in it. Remember? But why
is the grass always greener on the other side of that hill? Of course
it is. You should know! You created it that way.

“`Lucky in love, unlucky in life,’—bullshit–if lustful urges and
roving eyes don’t sabotage love, then the lust for wealth, fame, and
glory will. Where’s the fairness? Where’s the justice? Survival of the
fittest you say. Believe me, if I was given just half a chance, I
could have created a better world than this–Don’t give me that crap
about freedom. Right over wrong, good over evil, that’s all bullshit
too! Brains, brawn, and cleverness—determine good and evil. That’s the way it’s always been. Reinventing good and evil has always been the privilege of those who rule. Go ask the Indians! Blankets for land! Oh sure, smallpox infested blankets for the white man’s manifest destiny. The `good guys’ won—right! Don’t get me wrong; I can appreciate a good thing. We wouldn’t be having this conversation on a beautiful Black Hill’s mountaintop if the Indians had got their way.

“But wait, you know more about that than I do. The church, Your
Church, burnt the `witches,’ and `heretics’—right! In the end,
advantage always goes to the clever, the powerful, and the cruel. And
what for—a better life? An Afterlife? There’s a trump card if ever there was one. Things may be shit now, but wait; in heaven everybody gets their reward! Is that it! Is that your `Sola Scripture promise,’ your Christian message heard round the world! `Trust in the Lord,’ and rejoice in the glory of eternal life! Really! Trust the one who offers
a never-ending feast of the weak to the strong. Yeah, that makes great
sense! But no thanks! I don’t feel very trusting today. If its trust
you want, trust in this: Keep your false promises, corrupt henchmen,
and Love, unconditional or not! I don’t need that shit anymore. To
false hopes, great expectations, and love gone sour—I say goodbye,
good riddance. Enough already! You can stay in your precious `Paha
Satva Mountains,’ You and Carole Sue both. Not me. I’m out of here.
That’s my pledge! With this drink of vodka I seal that oath—let it
be done. It is done!”

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About bwinwnbwi

About me: Marvin Gaye’s song, "What’s Going On" was playing on the jukebox when I went up to the counter and bought another cup of coffee. When I got back, the painting on the wall next to where I was sitting jumped out at me, the same way it had done many times before. On it was written a diatribe on creativity. It was the quote at the bottom, though, that brought me back to this seat time after time. The quote had to do with infinity; it went something like this: Think of yourself as being in that place where infinity comes together in a point; where the infinite past and the infinite future meet, where you are at right now. The quote was attributed to Hermann Hesse, but I didn’t remember reading it in any of the books that I had read by him, so I went out and bought Hesse’s last novel, Magister Ludi. I haven’t found the quote yet, but I haven't tired of looking for it either.
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9 Responses to Being God And All, Why Did You Stack The Deck

  1. Mèo Lười Việt says:

    You know, to men love is always lust at the beginning. But if the woman is not an easy one and if she is attractive enough, lust can transform to love. If she accepts to be just a toy of sex, their relationship is lust forever, there’s nothing higher than lust and lust and lust. That’s terrible. But maybe there’s some exception that lust can turn to love. I don’t know.

    A talented and kind-hearted woman can tame an over – ambitious, over – aggressive man. The natural instinct of men is fighting. They born that way. Men are the ones who make wars, while women create peace (I mean real women with all the best traits of the fair sex). I like this sentence: “Men are horses, women are horse-trainers. The horses are blind or not that depends on the horse- riders.” 😀

    I think the ones who makes this world better are always the ones who believe that good can prevail evil, right can be over wrong. If everyone accepts the horrible facts and doesn’t dare to change, this world would be worse and worse, our life would be hell on earth. But I believe in Kinh Dich, when some state goes to its climax, it will transfigure to an opposite form. That’s called Revolution. But I don’t want to pay for this transfiguration by blood and violence. The less violence the better to me. Only women can do that.

    And to make a better world, all the goods should unite to fight our common enemy. Now we have Internet and English as an international language. If we let the evils speed up in their way, maybe the fate of this planet would come to the end soon and human race would be swept off the surface of this earth. See what happened to dinosours.

    Sorry maybe my English is not good enough. I just try to tame the wild West! 😀

    • bwinwnbwi says:

      Your English is fine. I agree. Let women peacemakers rule the world. Mistakes will still be made, but conditions will improve (must improve) and, although I’m not one to bet, I’d lay my money down on a better future ruled by women. Take care.

  2. starbear says:

    My friend ~ Your conversation with God… one of many? I too have ranted at the One… God, Creator… whatever one calls the source… and laughing, learning, that the funniest part of it all.. is that we get to choose – that is the gift, and i finally had to find the One with a sense of humor.
    I found that my source has a sense of humor and does not “make” me do anything or punishe me. My source watches, guides and laughs with me as I stumble and fumble my way on this path… Your journals of a younger man… interesting, from a native Michigander point of view. Was it something in our water? Were we all somehow polluted by the righteousness of the auto industry?
    Musings – women do have a different sensiblity – and men are capable of it as well… if they allow it.
    Yes, things will imrove, slowly. As more women speak their voices, and men and women begin to converse. We are different and yet I do believe that at the core we all want the same things – to be loved, heard, accepted, which naturally means to be loving, listening, accepting.
    Thank you for this journey… as I have been reading, I keep wondering if you are still a custodian, and my answer is yes – a custodian of life… LOL! I have always tried to teach that every job is important, everyone’s work is of value, we all contribute. I wonder too why you thought you came up short in the brains dept. LOL! You were using it so well when you wrote that…
    Thank you for visiting my humble blog and your “likes”… I am encouraged by the smallest things to keep going, so Thank you.
    Namaste ~ Star Bear

    • bwinwnbwi says:

      I’m not sure about the auto industry, but it could very well be the water–it defines us! I first heard this quote (lyric) in Nat King Cole’s ‘Nature Boy’, “The most important thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return,” but, in terms of life’s peak experiences, it probably doesn’t get any more profound then that. Thanks for the encouragement!

  3. eof737 says:

    What a rant… I hope you got spared a deadly hangover the next day… Oy vey! 😦

  4. CaroleSue says:

    He had MANY hangovers, but the hair of the horse prevailed. 😉 He was a very frustrating person to understand and be in love with.I failed miserably at both. When you’re in your twenties, your perception of love is so grandiose isn’t it? To be fair to me, I see he “glossed” over the afternoon affair he had. In fact it barely received honorable mention. the fact that it was premeditated and was with one of my very best friends,(ha ha) made it even less forgivable. The many casual indiscretions on the many soul searching trips were much easier to forgive, they were strangers after all. But don’t get me wrong, it still “stung”. But it’s his story, and he’s allowed poetic license. Giggle.

    • bwinwnbwi says:

      I’m sorry about all that; yes, the hair of the horse did prevail. Yesterday, after work, after posting on my blog, I opened a beer and put Randy Newman’s Faust on the stereo. The beer turned into tequila and orange juice and the music went from Faust to Harps And Angels and then Bad Love–all Randy Newman CDs. As coincidence would have it, I’m presently nursing a bit of hangover at this moment. While reading about those regretful memories, Loudon Wainwright’s song Guilty popped into my head. Apropos to the moment, here’s part of those lyrics: Call me Mr. Guilty
      Mr. Guilty is my name
      Without a doubt it’s all my fault
      I am the one to blame.
      You say that you’re unhappy
      I do believe it’s true
      And I’m the one, the no-good bum
      That did it all to you.
      You’ve been had, I’m a cad,
      At least at last I know.

      Yes, I’m sorry about all that!

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