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When Sweet Talk Sours
by Albert Russo

Nowadays the politico-bullshiters use the word ‘transparency’, like them uhhgly lil lizards I once saw in South Africa that cling to mosquito nets and show all their bloody innards like they were ready for dissection … yuk yuk yuk.

Say, what were you thinking while You were creating them? Were You yawning and consequently forgot to complete Your job, or maybe You got high because you were fed up with seeing so many of Your creepy crawlers, and chewed an unconscious quantity of crack? A good thing You didn’t build us with see-through bodies, exposing our throbbing hearts, our booze-filled livers and all the slimy and twisted shenanigans that are hidden behind our skin. We wouldn’t have known on what part of our apples and pears we oughta focus our attention first. Mind You, if that had been the case, I would surely have sued You for massive pornographic exposure of us humans, coz to see all that stuff, ebbing, flowing, leaking and throbbing - enough to make anybody throw up -, would be a much bigger offence than to see the male or the female watchamacallit in broad daylight. You wouldn’t have dared to portray us in Your image, showing all Your dirty little secrets, yet, You did it on purpose to make us wanting, so that we may never be a threat to You. That I call an Ungodly sense of morality, your untold motto being, “do what I say, not what I do”.

And what did You do to punish the people who erected the Tower, which was NOT one of your projects? You made them speak in different languages so that they couldn’t understand each other anymore and therefore they were unable to collaborate and had to stop their work of building new levels, on account that they couldn’t communicate properly and began to fight - the women were pulling each other’s hair so fiercely that they forced some of their new ennemies to wear the boyish haircut, even though they never had the intention of inventing a new fashion. Now you know where that look comes from.

The builders were so frustrated, on account that everything they said to their fellow-masons all of a sudden sounded like gibberish, that they trampled on it with all the rage You instilled in them, and the Tower slowly began to crackle and to crumble like the Twin Towers in Manhattan. But here, instead of planes crashing into the buildings, You blew Your own fiery breath.

Now let me say this again, I like the stories of the Bible, on account that they’re full of adventures close-, far-outstretched and totally haywired, with cool but also war-mongering caniballs, queens and kings who can be generous with their subjects or outright barbaric. But You can’t fool me, coz NO one, not even You, is able to blow towers to smithereens or separate the waters of the sea. As for the devil, he’s the invention of some madman’s trashination.