My God Can Beat Up Your God – Fiction

My God Can Beat Up Your God

by Lex Marburger

So young Attis ascended the throne. He wasn’t the first, not by a long shot. Tiamat, Chronos, The Cosmic Turtle… But that’s all ancient history. These new guys, the younger generation, they think that their crops can sustain them. Heh, heh. Gored by a boar, left to bleed in the hills of Greece. Looks like Zeus/Jupiter wins again.

We tried to wake up Vishnu, but he’s always asleep, and Krishna’s having too much fun with the milkmaids to want to join in.

Osiris? Sure, Lord of the Dead seems to be the way to go, as any vampire will tell you. Hey, you’d be ahead however you look at it. Plus, as an added bonus, Osiris was brought back to life by his sister giving him a blowjob. “Bringing the dead back to life,” as they say. The only problem is, he gets torn to pieces every harvest. Damn that connection to the corn!

That’s the way it goes. You get brought into existence by the agriculture, they get down on their knees for a while (see previous paragraph), and then they cut you off at the ankles and grind you into the dirt (“John Barleycorn Must Die”). So you’d think that Ares/Mars was made for this race. He could easily beat off any comers. But he had to team up with Hephestus, who was butt ugly. Looks like that business with the forge and anvil threw off his PR points a bit.

What’s this? Mithras steps up, the head of a bull in hand. Did away with Horus, took the soldiers in the palm of his hand, had no trouble with that pesky, all-too-finicky Zeus/Jupiter, and stormed the Mediterranean. All he had to worry about was Pan, still dancing around and distracting everyone from the competition. He had to boycott, didn’t he? Now we’ll never get rid of him! Luring our good troops away with his sex and drugs and music.

But the old Mid East Thunder God, YHVH (“I’d like to buy a vowel, Pat”) had been looking over the proceedings carefully, not getting too involved, just tending to his nomads, guiding them through the desert and such. When he had them settled comfortably, he made his move. In one fell swoop, he split himself into thirds, each as strong as the original. At the same time, he played his trump: He denied that any other Deities existed, and therefore, they could not compete with him.

To establish further control, he sent one-third of himself down here as Yeshua, who played a part as a Grain God, but only died once, and passed it off as a forgiving of sins. Listen! You can hear the screams of terror as the Horned One finally fades from view, the Pipes dimming, as denial succeeds where combat never could. And that Old White Guy With a Beard ascended the throne, sure that he’s the last, the Eternal…

Sophia looked at Diana, who glanced over at Tao, who turned her gentle gaze back to the Sheela-na-Gig, who studied Great Spirit. The Mothers spoke with one Voice.

“Should we tell them?”