Monday, February 25, 2019

Eve's Memoir

I take a Bible class every Wednesday evening.  Occasionally, we are asked, as part of the homework, to write a little story.  Last week we were asked to write an account of the Fall from the viewpoint of Eve.

In a fit of dutiful reverence, I wrote a sad, tragic account to hand to our instructor.  I can't resist, however, writing a funny version as well.  Our instructor has a sense of humor, so perhaps I will submit this to the class for some extra credit!

How I Ended Up East of Eden[1] by Eve

What was I thinking?  It isn’t as though we didn’t have enough to eat.  We had a whole smorgasbord there in Eden, made up of all kinds of food except meat.  We didn’t mind not having meat, though, because we didn’t know any better back then.  All of the animals in Eden were supposed to be friends for my husband Adam, not food.  That was before Adam got his operation where God took out a rib and made me from it.  At any rate, Adam and I more or less divided up the animal friends.  I took the cute ones and let him have the others, including the slimy ones, like the snake.  I should have paid more attention to the snake.  More about that later.

Anyway, we had a lot of trees in Eden, including a slew of fruit trees, so there was no need for me to want to try the one fruit we weren't allowed to eat.  According to what God told us, it was poison, and we would die from it.  It looked so good, though, that I never really believed it could be so dangerous to eat it.  I mean, what could one little bite do?  But God told us not to eat it, so we left it alone.  Better safe than sorry.

One day the snake came sidling up to me on his four little legs and began to talk to me.  I was shocked because I never knew we had a talking snake in Eden.

“I’m sorry.  Did I scare you?”  he said.

“Yes!”  I answered.  “What do you want?”

“I’m just being friendly.  Say, isn’t that the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil?”

“Yeah.  Why?”

"Oh, nothing.  How come you never eat any of its fruit?"

“God told us not to,” I said.  If we eat it, we’ll die.”

“Get outta here!”  he said.

“Really.  It’s true.”

“You know what I think?”  he said.  “I think you won’t die at all if you eat the fruit of that tree.  I think it will give you knowledge and you’ll be like God.  That’s what I think.”

“You really think so?”  I asked.

“Come on.  Try some.  One little bite can’t hurt.”

The thought of turning into a goddess was extremely tempting.  I had a feeling Adam wouldn’t mind turning into a god, too.

“Okay,” I said.  “But if this turns out bad, I’m blaming you.”

 To make a long story short, I took a bite of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil.  I didn’t notice any change, but it tasted good, so I brought some of it to Adam.  Being the idiot he is, he took what I gave him and ate it.

Then the effects happened, the strongest of which was that we both suddenly noticed we weren’t wearing any clothes.  Until then, it hadn’t mattered, but now it did.  We rushed around, gathered fig leaves together and made loincloths for ourselves.  They didn’t cover us very well, but it was the best we could do with what we had.

After that, Adam and I had a big fight.  He blamed me for getting him in trouble, and I blamed him for being such a moron.  He stomped off and hid somewhere.  So did I.  The snake, who was laughing like a hyena through all this, stayed where he was to try to catch some sun.

I stayed hidden until evening, which was when God always came to visit us.  I could hear him coming as usual.  Boy, was I scared!  I didn't know how God was going to react.  After all, He was the Supreme Being, and we were just a couple of jerks that He put together from some dust and a rib.  And He did warn us not to eat from that tree.

Of course, we had to come out from hiding and Adam had to admit what had gone down.  You can't hide from God, and you can't lie to Him, so you might as well give up and take your lumps.  Adam blamed me.  I blamed the snake, as I had said I would.  God took away the snake's legs and told him he'd have to crawl on his belly from then on.  It served that sneaky little reptile right.

God warned both Adam and me about all the hardships we would be living from that point on, then He made us each some decent clothes and shooed us out of Eden.  Ordinarily, I love to get a new dress, but this was my first one, and the circumstances didn't warrant any kind of celebrating.

After God closed the garden gate on us, I suddenly remembered that I had left my purse behind.  I turned around to go back in to get it, but the entrance was being guarded by a scary-looking angel.  He didn't look like the type who liked to fetch things for people, so I left it alone and walked away with Adam.



[1] East of Eden is a novel by John Steinbeck, for those of you who don’t remember this.  I thought it would be funny to include a reference to it here.  ... Well, it seemed like a good idea.

Saturday, February 16, 2019

Sweepstakes Shmeepstakes!

Have you ever received one of those pieces of mail inviting you to enter sweepstakes and possibly win a humungous sum of money?  Of course, you have, unless you have been living in a cave without a mailing address for the last 40 years.

After years of tossing those envelopes into the trash unopened, have you suddenly decided to enter one of the sweepstakes and give yourself a chance to become an instant rich person without having to work for the money?

I have news for you.  Not only do you have a minuscule chance of winning anything, but it takes a genius to fill out one of those entry forms.

DISCLAIMER:  All names have been changed, to protect the innocent, the not-so-innocent and anyone else who feels guilty.  If there is any resemblance to any corporations that have ever been in existence, don’t blame me.

Picture this.  You have just received an envelope in the mail from the Sweepstakes Division of the Chimera[1] Corporation. 

The envelope is thick.  For some silly reason, this gives you hope.  If the Chimera Corporation took the time to stuff your envelope like that, it must mean you are a winner, right?  You picture a big factory room full of tiny envelope stuffers, working frantically to overstuff enough envelopes to go out to all the winners of the world, one of which is you.  What humanitarians they must be because you are sure the Chimera Corporation is underpaying them.  Otherwise, how would they have enough money to give out to the winners of the world?

You open the envelope and pull out a load of papers.  Every one of these is covered on its entire surface with print, pictures or both.  The bright colors cause you a 30-second attack of blindness before you are able to focus on any of them.  The cover letter is littered with exclamation point warnings, such as “You might be a winner!”  “Don’t miss the deadline!”  Don’t lose your chance to win $348,000,000 in cash every year of your life!”  This puts the Greed Center of your brain on red alert, which is why the Chimera Corporation paid some advertising person to compose that letter in the first place.

Actual instructions are hard to find in the mess.  What you do get are warnings to follow the instructions.  This forces you to actually read everything in the packet, which is something you rarely do with anything, let alone junk mail.

You waste about an hour of your life sorting through the whole mess, finding stickers, pasting them on what looks like the application form, seeing the return envelope and pasting another sticker on it, etc., etc., etc.

Finally, it looks like you have a precise, correctly presented application.  You put it in the enclosed self-addressed envelope marked "place stamp here."  You dig through your desk drawers looking for a stamp.  You find an old, unused "forever" stamp with Elvis Presley's picture on it.  You put it on the stamp corner of the envelope and write your return address on the other edge.

You put the application in a mailbox on the way to church to light some candles.




[1] One of the definitions of chimera, according to the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary:  an illusion or fabrication of the mind, especially : an unrealizable dream

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