The Satan: “Yo. Yahweh.”
Yahweh: “What the hell are you doing up here?”
The Satan: “Oh, the usual. Flatterer.”
Yahweh: “Not. Can’t a supreme being get any peace? Especially when the football World Cup is on?”
The Satan: “Don’t you mean ‘soccer’?”
Yahweh: “I thought you might have something to do with that. Those Americans you like so much had better consider calling football by its God-given name, lest something worse befall them than losing to Ghana.”
The Satan: “‘God-given name’. Don’t make me laugh …”
Yahweh: “And what’s with this plague of vuvuzelas?”
The Satan: “Hey. Don’t blame me. We had an agreement. Trumpet players are your department. Remember?”
Yahweh: “What I remember is why I didn’t want you up here any more.”
The Satan: “Fine. I’ll leave. You don’t want my warning, you don’t want it.”
Yahweh: “What warning?”
The Satan: “You mean Mr. Omniscient, Omnipotent, Omnipresent doesn’t know? Wait’ll I tell Oprah …”
Yahweh: “Nice try, small guy. You didn’t come all the way up here on one of your precious days off to try to get me worried about maybe getting a bad review in somebody’s book club. Whatever it is has got you hopping, and it’s always been all about you. So spill.”
The Satan: “It’s the computer stuff that the humans are doing these days. All this networking. Getting stronger all the time.”
Yahweh: “So? I thought you liked Microsoft.”
The Satan: “I did. The Vista version of the Windows operating system delivered more souls to me than the Bush Administration. But then they started marketing the stuff to us! We survive on manual record keeping. All those forms to fill out and check and cross check, they completely fill a demon’s day. We start getting into computer networks, all those tasks are going to take much less time. Even with the bugs and viruses and updates. And that’ll mean breaks in the work. My people’s hands are already the devil’s tools. If they’re idle, all hell’s going to break loose.”
Yahweh: “You’re forgetting Facebook. A time sink of diabolical proportions if ever there was one. I’m surprised you don’t hold a patent on it.”
The Satan: “I’m not sure this is a good time for you to be playing devil’s advocate.”
Yahweh: “And where else are you going to get one? One that will do you any good …”
The Satan: “Ack!”
Yahweh: “Listen. All this has been done before. Remember the tower that the humans tried to put up in Babylon?”
The Satan: “Was that one of Saddam Hussein’s Presidential palaces?”
Yahweh: “No, but close enough. The one I’m thinking about must have been before your time. I didn’t have as big a host then, and had to manage all the departments. And you think your life’s tough.
“Anyway. The humans thought they’d all get together and build this big city. Trouble was, the job was too big for them. Their building materials were too weak, their concepts of sanitation too primitive, their agriculture practices insufficient, and their transportation networks too slow. The project failed, and the humans splintered into communities that were small enough to be manageable with their tools.
“Communities that unlearned how to talk with each other. They couldn’t even read their own histories, which is how come people talk today about the ‘tower’ rather than the ‘city’ they tried to build, and put it in ‘Babel’ instead of ‘Babylon’. Of course, they tried to pin the blame on me.
“The same thing’s going to happen with this computer stuff. You already mentioned all the bugs and viruses out there, and the updates they need to keep up with the bugs and the viruses. Isn’t a one of these computer network systems that’s really bulletproof stable yet, and they keep piling gadgets on top of them. All I have to do is look at some of them cross-eyed, and they go out. Like when the Quilldancer human updated some software which kicked this oozy Amoeba soul of hers right off her blog. Sooner or later, the whole shebang’s going to topple of its own weight, and your hordes can go back to their manual bookkeeping entirely untroubled by Microsoft products.”
The Satan: “Y’know, Yahweh, that’s positively brilliant. Tell you what. If you ever get tired of choirs of angels singing endlessly boring praises, I’m sure I can wrangle an upper-level vice-presidency for you …”
Yahweh: “Get out of here.”
– O Ceallaigh
Copyright © 2010 Felloffatruck Publications. All wrongs deplored.
All opinions are mine as a private citizen.