Acts of gods

Thunder, lightning, torrential rain, tornadoes, floods ... Southern Indiana’s weather has been going bonkers lately, and it looks like it’s far from ready to take a break. But while you and I have been staying indoors, sipping cocktails made from fermented beets and yelling obscenities at the neighborhood chipmunks, the politicians have been busy ignoring the facts behind this sudden, dramatic shift in the local climate. There is a clear, scientific, logical and totally rational explanation for all of this:\nThe gods are angry at Bloomington. \nNo, not “God.” Gods. As a matter of fact, that’s one of the reasons they’re mad: All those license plates with “In God We Trust” have them wondering which one you’re talking about. And they don’t care for the other license plate, either. It doesn’t even have a slogan! And as if you didn’t see enough farms outside your windows, they had to put one on the plate too.\nBut I digress. Yes, the gods are mad. But no, not any gods you’ve ever heard of – in fact, they prefer to keep low profiles. All that they care about is that you know that they speak through me and, therefore, that you give me whatever I want. Or else they’ll become very wrathful. Very wrathful, indeed!\nWhat’s that? How many gods are we talking about? Um ... 72. Yes, 72. What? Name them? I can’t name all of them. I mean, yes, there’s, um, Velouria, goddess of pixies. And Impala, goddess of economical luxury. The dread god Tarragon and Baracus, god of pitying fools. And, uh, 68 others who shall reveal themselves in time!\nBut first, these gods must be appeased! They care not who you marry, or who owns that desert-looking bit of turf stuck between Africa and Asia, or whether you covet your neighbor’s labrador. No, they care only for those things that truly affect the human spirit.\nFirst, they demand that IU set their people free by canceling exams and giving everyone “A”’s. And by doubling the wages of any graduate instructors, for the wretched of the earth are beloved in their eyes.\nNext, they say that automobiles are the work of the devil; or rather, devils. Yes, many devils. And therefore, only one who has their blessing shall be permitted to drive one (traffic and a lack of available parking being mortal sins). As one so blessed, they demand I be rewarded with a totally sweet ride, to be disclosed in a revelation as I peruse the local car dealerships.\nAnd, lastly, the gods say I must be provided an Xbox with a divine host of games, including the sacred discs of “Guitar Hero” so that I might perform Foghat’s “Slow Ride” in their honor. And no one shall be allowed to play against me until I get really, really good.\nIt is with a heavy heart that I accept these burdens, but it is only by following their commandments that the storms will cease. Unless they don’t, in which case there must be more commandments. Their ways are mysterious, after all.