h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Oh one thing more, if I'm granted the position, will I be able to smite? I realize it's uncharacteristic of prophets and certainly wasn't in the job description (which I foresaw, during a spell), but there were so many people who've been cruel to me in the past, and if I were well fixed with the deity and all, well why not an occasional smite? Or perhaps just a headache or blight? Something trivial but instructive? Just a thought..

Hey, that reminds me: Do I get to smite?

Of course! Everyone in this religion is required to do a rigorous amount of smiting so as to keep ourservles ahead of the rest! Now Ubiquitous, are you sure you don't more properly fit the bill of Wicked Spirit? I realize that you are very silly, but you also sound quite a bit wicked and it seems that I've got 3 applicants vying for the post of silly Prophet (you included). I wouldn't want this to degenerate into a tooth and nail rampage and all, so consider carefully. I'm not booting you out of the running, just opening other suggestions.

So even though you and I are adversaries, we still have to _both_ be ahead of the rest? Works for me.

I'm not very good at being wicked, though I've tried many times, and then there's the fact that I've already begun to prognosticate. I know I'm not authorized to prophesy and so that perhaps is wicked, but I can't help myself, really I can't. I see things that are about to happen whenever I have a little session with the Magic Mallet of Prophecy. There could be more than one silly prophet couldn't there? Our religion, isn't so hidebound that it can't accommodate dual or even treble silly prophets is it? We'd have to beef up the wicked side a bit though or be accused of stacking the deck and I see where this might lead crowding and infighting and it might make you appear indecisive. You notice that I'm talking myself out of a job here which is quite silly which adds to my qualifications. We've not discussed salary or benefits yet either. I don't need a great deal of either as I see my primary income would come from sillyprophet.com and the syndication of my prophecies in the media. Well it's all in your hands now (as always) so you decide. I'll be sitting over here quietly.

I've been silly. In fact I have experience being a silly prophet, as I've predicted the future of silliness before!

Resumé of Irving Washington

Predictions: I have succesfully predicted the actions of on stage members of improvisational comedy groups while I was sitting in the audience. I have, on particularly lucid nights (last tuesday, for example) predicted what games they will play, what sugestions they will immediately accept from the audience, and whether or not they would make me eat a Reeses' Peanutbutter cup (they did. It was delicious). How's that for predicting silliness?

I helped found a particularly silly cult elswhere on h2g2, The Righteous Knights of Kettering. We worship Douglas Adams, find Kumquats to be holy, stockpile weapons, attempt to recruit large bossomed, scantily clad Californian women, and feast on kumquats, kumquat brandy, and meat pies for a period of one week, every 42 thursdays. Oh, and I predicted stuff for this cult, too. :-p
I'm also a member of another silly cult on h2g2, the Church of the True Brownie. I still haven't paid my tithe there, but then, they haven't told me what it is they want me to pay my tithe with.
I think it's slightly silly to be in two cults at once, and I'd like to continue the trend by joining every h2g2 cult that I can find. 8-p

I'd be willing to be the non-silly prophet( ), but only if I could still be a bit silly. And if I'm appointed prophet, I will immediately smite my room mate. And then his alarm clock. No, his alarm clock first, definately.

Dear God, since last we spoke, I’ve been in touch with the Association of Wicked Persons and taken their short course. I’ve discovered that being wicked isn’t as difficult as I’d thought (quite easy really). They make special arrangements for ephemera, transitory spooks, and various spirits, providing you pay the initiation fee, take an oath, and provide three incidents of wickedness performed in the last calendar year. I made up some stuff (usurping authority, prevaricating without a permit, and slacking) and swore to it on a meatloaf sandwich (sorry, I’m backsliding there). Since making stuff up, swearing to a falsehood, and writing a bad check was quite wicked and in consideration of the fact that I have no intentions of ever keeping up the dues, I actually met the wickedness requirements indirectly.

I’ve begun to put together my list of smitees (it’s quite long really). I may have to cut back the list in order that smiting not get out of hand and interfere with my other duties. As to compensation, a spirit has little need of salary. I can get by quite nicely on plasmodia and the aura of evil emanating from parliament.

I’ve begun doing research on smiting in general and what to do with the bodies. I’ve learned from my brief stint in the restaurant business that stacking them in the basement just won’t do, not at all. The “dust thou art” smite you have used so successfully, clears up the problem of what to do with the bodies. Just sweep them up and drop them in the dustbin (or more wickedly, leave them for someone else to sweep up).

I believe that I’ve gotten a handle on this business quite nicely and am ready to serve you in whichever capacity you find most pleasing. I am, as ever, Ubiquitous.

Um er God? One other little thing, just one, I promise. It's about your, er, um, how to put this, (thinks "nothing for it but to blurt it out"), your ah gender. (Hears the lightning bolt machine powering up in the distance, takes cover) Now cut that out, god, it's not my fault. You know no one can see through that radiant aura that surrounds you. (Considers mentioning how ostentatious that is, but decides not) Besides, I didn't invent the English language and pronouns, you did. Therefore, you should give us lesser beings a chance, maybe a hint or something. How can I discuss you at cocktail parties if I don't know your sex?

Me at a cocktail party "How about that God, you know he/she doesn't make a move without consulting me", now, how awkward is that? I can't work like this, either reveal your gender or I resign! (Hears thunderbolt machine starting up again). OK, I meant, "Reveal your gender or I'll um accept your decision". Thinks ("what a bitch" then remembers that God can read his thoughts, doesn't even see the thunderbolt coming).

The following predictions are based on my becoming silly prophet of God. If someone else is selected, no fair stealing my stuff. I'm studying Karate Smiting and have a black belt, (and a sore bum from that thunderbolt machine). ( rubbing same). I apologize in advance, for any gender faux pas but God is unwilling to reveal the gender of God (see how bloody awkward that makes writing?), and it doesn't pay to ask, trust me. (still rubbing).

Pokemon will prove not to be 2001 compliant. All the monsters captured to date will be released. Panic will ensue and President Perot will declare Marshal law. It will be discovered that there are not enough Marshals to go around. Perot will declare this to be the result of a conspiracy and will resign. His vice president, Billy Joe Jim Bob Coswell will move the Whitehouse to Joe's Trailer Park in Waco Texas. The ATF will be disbanded and gun ownership will become mandatory. Murder rates will drop dramatically as no one will want to go outside.

At midnight Dec 31 every VCR in the world will try to record Wheel of Fortune at the same time (even the ones that are turned off) bringing down the cable networks worldwide. After three weeks without TV, 35% of the population will discover that they have lives, 15% will have killed themselves (or tried to), 40% will become addicted to the blank screen, the rest will discover (the new and much improved) God on H2G2.

God's new message will be discovered by millions on H2G2, the increased traffic will make H2G2.com the largest IPO in history. The silly prophet of God will make a killing in insider trading. God will (of course) eschew any part in such crass commercial speculation, which will suit God's Silly Prophet just fine.

Elvis will be found dead in a motel in Buzzard Beak Idaho. The suicide note will reveal that he had been about to make a comeback until "that thing" with Michael Jackson.

It will be discovered that Vanna White is superfluous due to the new electronic clue board requiring no manual intervention. Sixty minutes will do an expose, revealing the fact that Vanna's touching the screens does nothing at all; changes are actually controlled remotely by a guy named (ironically) Les Turner. The former letter-spinner finds that her resume is inadequate in the modern world. She will sue the show claiming they wasted her talents during her most productive years. She will win the suit but the jury (mostly Jeopardy fans) will award her $1. She dies a bitter and unhappy woman after the tabloids begin to ignore her.

Convicted child-molester Chaney Dumling will successfully sue the state of Maryland to overturn his conviction based the fact that he was not Y2K compliant at the time of conviction and therefore could not be held accountable for his actions. He is released but is later smitten with a POX delivered by some unknown force of nature (hee hee hee). God is watching and she can get really pissed (be forewarned).

Writer Steven King writes a blockbuster novel about a writer who is hit by a car, while writing a novel about a writer who is hit by a car, while writing a novel about a writer who is hit by a car. The driver is eaten by a morlock in all versions. King sues the driver that hit him and wins $1,500,000. This amount is 100,000 times greater than the driver's net worth. Still it is a moral victory. King chokes on an olive at his victory dinner and dies. His estate later sues the olive bottler, but does not write a new novel about a writer who chocked on an olive.

Laptop manufacturers are devastated by a Consumer's Report study that proves that laptop computer emissions can cause sterility in males. Females are not affected creating an imbalance between fertile females and infertile males. Sales of laptop lap-shields soar. God's silly prophet makes huge profits in insider trading. He is however implicated in dozens of paternity suits after taking advantage of his psychic prescience.

Donald King is unmasked by a tabloid exposure that proves his hair is totally faked by denying him access to pomade for a week. In a related action, boxing is exonerated, being proven to be as clean and unfixed as wrestling. Based on this finding, Minnesota governor Jesse Ventura announces his intention to enter the boxing arena and challenges President Billy Joe to do the same. The first match is scheduled for July 2002 at Madison Square Garden. Matchmakers favor Jesse 100 to 1.

Credence Clearwater Revival makes a big comeback following on the coattails of Jefferson Starship. The Momma's and the Papa's, sans everyone, record a new hit "We used to be Famous, no Really". The Loving Spoonful's John Sebastion now 119 thinks the group still has relevance though computer brain transplants are not that easy to write songs about.

The Rascals introduce their comeback album "All I Need is More Love". Sales are slow and they sink back into a well-deserved obscurity fueled by the fact that their last fan died in 1987.

The silly prophet of God introduces SillyProphet.com. The IPO surpasses even H2G2.com. The silly prophet of God makes a killing. The predictions, while not accurate, are immensely popular (like Horoscopes). H. Ross Perot sues SillyProphet.com for predicting a landslide victory in his presidential bid. He admits that the landslide occurred but that they didn't reveal that he would self-destruct, he loses on appeal and resigns the case, citing a conspiracy of unknown forces.

See, God, you can't trust this one! His first major flaw is in not recognizing that Ross Perot has been a Pokemon all along! You should smite him again! Better yet, have Perot smite him: I choose you! Brainless Chart attack, now!

Bear in mind that I may end up with the power to smite. You will receive the smite of stupidity (you may not notice the difference). Your jealousy is transparent to God so get a grip. I will prevail, you are lame in comparison. Your best line was the alarm clock thing. If you should be selected, I will correct your grammar, spelling, and punctuation the rest of your life (and perhaps beyond). Every man should know his limitations, recognize yours. I remain (as always) Ubiquitous (but that you could say the same)

How spitefull! How mean! I don't really check my forum entries for grammar prior to posting... that was a low blow! I'm hurt! Fine! If you don't want me, I'm already affiliated with two other perfectly good cults, and I'm sure they'll be more than happy to have me. Good bye.

Oh, and, as one last, spitefull gesture, have you noticed that God has yet to respond to one of your posts? He responded to one of Lupas, which was a response to yours, but not to yours directly. What kind of prophet can't even get God's attention?

Arrrrgh that last one went straight to the heart. My previous post was wicked spirit, not silly prophet talking (I was deliciously wicked there wasn't I?). It's all in the training. God predicted that it would come to this. The infighting has begun. The next thing you know we'll be pulling hair, biting, and mumbling incoherently. You are right about my shortcomings, I can't seem to get God's attention, (thunderbolts notwithstanding) so my reputation as a prophet lies in shambles. This will in turn shatter any hopes for a killing on the IPO. I am ruined (sobs) ruined. Perhaps I should be known as "weepy prophet who is ignored by God". Oh well, I can always fall back on my hobbies (if only I could remember what they are).

At your request, I have returned! I hereby dub myself "Sustainer of the Thread, Giver of Life"... or maybe just "Bill". Your wickedness shows much promise! My kilt is itching me badly -- that's your fault, isn't it? Oh God, Why have you forsaken this us?!?! Must I don my (soon to be) infamous Muave Chicken costume to appease you? I propose that we sacrifice a package of twinkies to bring him back... you?

I have a weird feeling that God is a she (listens for thunderbolt machine). Do you know something I don't? I hate to see Twinkies wasted (not that sacrificing them to god would be wasting them). I propose we sacrifice the meatloaf sandwich and eat the Twinkies. Could Nietzsche be right (God is dead). Sorry about the kilt, you really should wear underwear. U

Though I'm sure I must know _something_ you don't (hopefully at least some of the details of my personal life are included in that) I don't know whether God is male of female. God, in most cases, is a title, like Mister, Miss, Missus, Ms., Master, Lord, Doctor, Judge, Sir, Lady, Madame, Monsieure, Madamoiselle, King, Queen, Duke, Dutchess, etc. Sorry about the lenght of that list, I'm a little out of it (my room mate's sleep patterns have forced me to take naps in the middle of the day, and I've just woken from a long one -- I'm still groggy). In this case, of course, God is a nickname. I was about to say that only a male would actually proclaim himself God, a female would just hint at it. However, after a brief bout with the h2g2 search engine, I have determined the name of God! I shall keep my secret and shall force upon myself high preist status for this holy knowledge!

Actually, I know a great deal about your personal life, I know who stole your bike and why, I know about you and the goat (I prefer cows myself) and I know what you call your roomie when He’s not around. I’ve grown quite fond of you, so I’ll not reveal any of this, provided you keep up the payments. God is a female of indeterminate age (this altogether appropriate). If I am wrong, let me be struck by lightning (hiding in closet).

It wasn't a goat, it was a sheep. And if God is a female, as you say, then her age must remain indeterminate, because it's a fairly dangerous thing to ask a woman her age -- especially when she's omnipotent (as many of them are, I've found). As far as blackmail goes, if I stop the payments will you release information on who stole my bike and why?

BTW-- looking at your user page I'm struck with a rather bald faced lie. I'll fall for all the rest, but do you really expect me to believe you've never flatulated? Did I spell "believe" wrong again?

Hello everyone! Sorry about my long silence, I kept wanting to respond, but it was much more fun to just let you fight it out amongst yourselves. I have decided on my positioning decree. Due to the fabulous pontification of Ubiquitous (notice I replied to your email this time) I have placed you in the spot of Wicked Prophet. I feel you have greatly surpassed the requirements of wickedness and are quite good at running at the mouth. Now all you need to learn is the foaming bit. I also like the idea of more than one prophet for each side, therefore I am installing Loki (outside applicant) as one silly prophet and opening up the floor to other applicants. As for Irving Washington, considering your immense interest in including yourself in cults, I dub you "spreader of the word and such" to randomly wander about and club people on the head if they do not accept the true words (which are slightly false). How are things preceding with your project Lupa? I hope you have surpassed some of the many obstacles to ridding the world of THEM.

As to the question of my gender, I'm interested in how you arrived at your choice U. (Sorry about the thunderbolt and all, but must keep the underlings in line, you understand) Was it the Magical Mallet of Prophecy that led you to your discovery? (which may or may not be a valid one) I should hope there was no actual scientific process involved, that would be so unlike you.

Well, go out and get some good smiting in this weekend, I know I shall. Enjoy!