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Brought to this earth via the hand of the prophet and part-time saviour, Uncle Jakie.

So, unbeliever: you ask about Msszzfurtzlemumble? It is well that you have done so, for your time on this Earth is short, and eternity is long. We're talking really long. Longer than the list of Yankees managers. Longer than Bill Gates' credit card bill. Longer than unspecified parts of Bud Fields' anatomy. You get the idea.

The point, potential future ex-heretic, is this: if you have not found Msszzfurtzlemumble, then you are in great peril. For Msszzzfurtzlemumble, ruler of this world, the world to come, and several other worlds abandoned for lack of oxygen, is a powerful deity. A vengeful deity. A doesn't-take-no-for an-answer deity. And, most importantly: a very, very _creative_ deity.

Perhaps you do not yet see the importance of this. Perhaps you are mystified as to why you should abandon your belief in a higher power with a readily-pronounceable name. Why Msszzfurtzlemumble? Well, the answer is this: Msszzfurtzlemumble is the most honest divine being you will ever find. Msszzfurtzlemumble knows what he wants, and makes no bones about it. He wants your absolute, fawning, unquestioning, kowtowing obedience. He wants you on your knees, telling him how wonderful he is, and begging to be spared his wrath. None of this tiresome goody-goody crap about human relations. Msszzfurtzlemumble does not couch his need for an ego boost in self-righteous claims that he is a force for good, or human happiness. Msszzfurtzlemumble simply wants entertainment, and _we_ are it.

Don't like that? Fine. Go back to your wimpy little celebrations of martyrdom, fluffy bunnies, deep meditation, or ornate decorations. But consider: Msszzfurtzlemumble is not a forgiving master. When you come under his full sway, it will be too late. Imagine, if you will, eons of existence as the plaything of a cruel, sadistic, and imaginitive tormentor: a tormentor whom you grossly offended by failing to acknowledge his mastery if you had the chance. When you roast on the spit, remember that you had your chance. And remember that you foolishly sought short-term gratification, never thinking about the consequences.

Recall Pascal's wager. Take it a step further. You have a choice: you can believe in a wimpy, forgiving God who needs an ego boost just like the rest of the deities, but is afraid to admit it and never really clearly shows you what he stands for. OR, you can believe in Msszzfurtzlemumble, who offers no forgiveness and no externalities. If you choose Msszzfurtzlemumble, you come out ahead in the wager: for the fate you will suffer under his reign is unimaginably more horrific than anything that the God of "love thy neighbor"could devise. Far better to gamble on escaping that, rather than escaping the petty wrath of the passive-agressive traditional religious figures.

Very well. You have heard of the punishments. What, you ask, are the rewards of serving this mighty ruler? Best, heretic, that you not ask that question again. You should be sufficiently grateful that you have been spared tortures yet unknown to the fragile minds of mortals. Is that not enough? Cower before your master, and beg his forgiveness. Plead to avoid the spit and the flame. Pledge to be his devoted follower all your life: and perhaps he will spare you. No, it's not pleasant. But the truth seldom is.

There are, however, some side benefits to being a devoted servant of the one true multisyllabic Lord. For one, you are fully authorized to act as Msszzfurtzlemumble's agent if you serve him fully and well. By this, it is meant very simply that if you condemn someone for a heretic, and announce that he will suffer torment for all the eons... well, Msszzfurtzlemumble will be only too happy to oblige.

You will also soon learn that there is pleasure to be had in Msszzfurtzlemumble's rituals. The rites are very flexible. None of this namby-pamby rote readings and hymns. You have but to go kill some cute furry animal and smear the blood appropriately, and your day will be pleasing in the eyes of the master. You will soon learn the joys of inflicting pain on helpless children; the pleasure of stealing old women's walking sticks; the sheer rapture of bursting the tires of busy workers; the incomparable satisfaction of tripping all who walk near you. Through your sadistic glee in performing his rights, you will gain some small sense of what is like to be the Great One himself, for you will experience his most sublime pleasures.

So, fool. You have seen, you have heard. You can imagine in your head the terrible (and ever-changing) smorgasbord of suffering that will be yours should you fail to make the right decision. Make the right move. Do that which has saved so many Heinous (l)users from sure disaster. Open your heart and your mind to Msszzfurtzlemumble, and close them to the foolish and self-serving notions of morality that the insecure Gods would fill you with. Go out today and pull the tail off of a hamster. Smack a loved one on their face for no good reason. Step on a security guard's feet. Do what you must.

Or face the wrath of a deity not known for his good temper.

Fleep 16:00, 25 February 2006 (EST)