Ernie Chambers, Nebraska State Senator, has sued the Almighty for “widespread death, destruction and terrorization of millions upon millions of the Earth’s inhabitants.” This is the sort of story that makes me giddy with some inscrutable glee. It's not because a man is suing God, and it's not necessarily because I think the guy's a crackpot. I think it's because the guy's a State Senator. I can't wait to see how this plays out. I'm more interesting in seeing the reactions of others to this:
Scott Adams, creator of Dilbert:
I sure hope it goes to trial. Imagine how interesting that would be. First, how do you select a jury of God’s peers? Compared to the Almighty, even Buddha is just a guy who should use the stairs more often. The entire jury would end up being doctors who sometimes play God, and arborists, who can, sort of, make a tree, if they have acorns. That’s the best you can do.
What happens when you call God to the stand? Does he have to take an oath and promise to tell the truth “so help me me”? I don’t see how that could be anything but awkward.
It's pure entertainment. The countersuit could come at any time, so watch the skies, Ernie.
One final caveat: I am under no illusion that this is really newsworthy. Just an atheist protesting the justice system. It's completely blogworthy, tho'.
It's not original.
ReplyDeleteJames Morrow's novel Blameless in Abaddon is about a man who sues God. Perhaps some of the sting is lost, given that in Towing Jehovah--the first book of Morrow's trilogy--the well-worn phrase "God is dead" is literally true; this book deals with the aftermath of His giant corpse having fallen to earth.
I'd strongly recommend any of Morrow's work (sadly consigned to the ghetto of "science fiction" where it doesn't really belong, the same fate the kindred Kurt Vonnegut once suffered).
A good starting place would be the horrifying, laugh-out-loud City of Truth. In the title metropolis, no one ever tells even little white
lies. Everyone has been brutally conditioned to tell the truth, no matter how painful it may be to hear. (The procedure--described in agonizing detail, of course--takes place at a fairly young age, after a brief allowance for fantasy in earlier childhood.)