Worshipping the almighty Yemassee

As I was finishing my business on the lawn of Yemassee’s palatial mansion, an AP police man saunters up holding a book of citations. 1

“What can I do for you pig?”  I kindly asked having only the warmest intentions since I lovingly eat pig whenever I can.2

“Sir, is this your shit on the lawn?”  The officer rudely asked this question not even bothering to thank me for my honest and appropriate complement.3

“Why indeed yes it is mam.”  He clearly was impressed with the still steaming excrement left on Yemassee’s lawn.  So was I.  It was a work of art, not too artsy-fartsy that it had too be categorized as doo-doo, not too intellectual to be categorized as copra, not too vulgar to be categorized as feces, it was just plain honest shit.4

“Sir, my name is Robert and there is no need to be hostile I am only doing my job.  My job is to inform you that according to local and global regulations, you will have to remove your number two waste matter.  I even have a doggie bag for you to remove your dog poop from this beautiful lawn.5

It really was a nice doggie bag, with the words “doggie doo doo here so that doggie don’t do elsewhere.”  6

“Did you write this slogan yourself?” I asked the member of the gestapo.7

“No my job is only to enforce ordinance 1207,  all dog scat must be removed by the owner in question or said animal will be quarantined and put to death.8

The police officer looked happily cruel, until I asked my next question. “So you are the shit police then? I am sure your mother is so proud.”9

“Don’t be ridiculous, I also enforce the no n- word law.”10

“What the hell are you talking about?  Now can I call you an intimate nick name for Short, Dick would be appropriate.  Now what particular n-word are you talking about?”  To myself, I was guessing he meant New Jersey.  I figured I would be kind of proud of preventing people from saying the words New Jersey if I had to take a job in law enforcement or as in his case ordinance enforcement.11

“My name is Robert, Rob, Bob, Robby or Bobby.  Dick is in no way a proper abbreviation.”  He then quietly whispered to me the meaning of the n-word.  “I enforce the famous nigger law.  Anyone who wants to write an impassioned speech denouncing prejudice must now use the n-word.”  This seemed to make the lawman dangerously happy.12

“‘Not knowing why the nigger law was even a law I decided to leave before he started finding acronyms to replace my shit with.”  13

As I was walking away, I heard a strangled yell in the background.  I turned around and saw the nigger shit cop getting very mad. “Where do you think you are going?  You can’t leave this crap lying here.”14

“I most certainly can but if it really offends you perhaps I can offer you this handy bag.”  I then proceeded to scratch out the word doggie on the doggie bag he had handed to me and then gave the bag to the apoplectic officer.15

“This is the last straw. I have been patient but my patience is running thin, kindly remove your canine fecal matter before I suspend you from the site for one week.” The officer almost screamed, though his tone of voice was matter of fact.  It was his eyes that were screaming.16

His eyes so insulted me, that I decided to get nasty. “Look here Mr. high and mighty I’ve spent too much time eating donuts and greasy suicide/cutter poems. Go ahead and confiscate my dog, I don’t even own a dog.  If you feel so threatened by my shit on the lawn I would suggest you get on your hands and knees and eat it up like a good boy.  You are probably very hungry from all your exertions and are probably used to eating shit anyway.”17

This clearly wasn’t the most appropriate thing to say to the enraged constable, but it is hard to be conciliatory to someone who was so obviously irrational.  He pulled out a stopwatch and in a child like voice said, “You have 45 minutes starting now to eliminate all traces of dog defecation from this lawn or I will hereto revoke your right to post any comment for 1 week.”18

Although I was not really bothered by his doomsday consequences I decided I had enough of the charade and in one imperceptibly quick motion, I grabbed his face and forced it into my shit. (In actuality it wasn’t that fast, he was just that slow.) “Do you smell that Short Dick, Short Dick being your nickname as an obvious reference to your large IQ.  That is not dog doodoo, canine caca or poodle poop.  That is my own special unique and always under appreciated shit.  I am insulted you could not recognize my handiwork.19

The cop with shit on his nose, instantly smiled.  “Sorry for the misunderstanding sir.  This is not a case of breaking ordinance 1207.” He looked in his rule book for a second and started frowning. “Unfortunately sir you are now guilty of breaking ordinance 1208.”20

I had no idea what ordinance 1208 stood for, but hoped it wasn’t another n-word.  Realizing he was waiting for me to ask the question I finally asked the question.  “Pray meretricious member of AP law and order what is ordinance 1208.21

“Why copradeism of course.  Thou shall not shit on god.”  This actually made a perverse kind of logic.22

I realized he was correct but I had not known it was a crime.  I mean god shits on me all the time.  Was I in serious danger?  “Officer, I realize I am guilty but can I just pay a fine and continue to shit on Yemessee’s lawn.”23

The officer frowned. “I am sorry sir a rule is a rule even for demi-deities like Yemessee.”  You must petition for membership in his church.  That way you will have a permit to empty your bowels on god anytime you like, other than during church services when such behavior is entirely inappropriate.”24

I thought about his answer and agreed with the deputy even though I hated to see his insolence unpunished. “Mam I agree I will rectify the situation immediately.”25

Clapping my hands, I turned to leave, but the Man was waiting to stick it to me again. “Sir clapping your hands is not a solution near as I can tell, take this little baggie and dispose of your unmentionables in that receptacle labeled unsanitary waste products.”26

Annoyed by the persistent abuse of this tireless servant of the status quo, I motioned him to look around at the dead lawn that the aforementioned shit was now lying on.  “Mam this is my yard as you can tell by the neglect of the yard.  You can tell that it is never lovingly shit in like some people’s yards.  There is no ordinance about shitting in your own yards is there?27

“Sir, but you just can’t build your house on a small corner of Yemessee’s lot even if it is barely recognizable.  Someone might accidentally step in your crap or worse on your house and that would cause all manner of stink.28

I decided to leave my house sitting on Yemessee’s front porch and put a sign on my front yard giving permission to his church to come shit on my house.  I figured if enough people gave me shit, I might be accepted into this cult thing that gave carte blanche to shit wherever you liked.  A handy privilege anyone could appreciate.  With another clap I turned Mr. Policeman into a steamy pile of crap to go alongside my earlier pile of shit and began to think of the consequences of joining the occult.29

What kind of god is Yemessee?  Was he Roman and fucked all the nubile young lads and young ladies?  I was getting old and didn’t really fear Yemessee’s attentions, but what happened if he were more modern.  These modern gods really didn’t do much but ask that you feel guilty for masturbating in public.  Remembering these modern gods I pulled my hands out of pants before anyone noticed.  The problem was that regardless of what kind of god Yemessee turned out to be I was agnostic.30

I clapped my hands and the sick looking crap that used to be Dick asked me how he could be of service.31

“Mam what happens if I am agnostic and don’t believe that Yemessee is god?  Can I still gain entrance?”32

Mr. brown and squishy tried to look in his regulation book but couldn’t find it. “Sir you will have to go ask god himself.”33

Thinking about this I realized a flaw in shit’s reasoning.  Of course he was just shit not a esteemed logician or philosopher.  Of course philosophers and such were known to shit quite profusely, but the quality of shit was so much higher. If god existed and if god wanted people to worship he/she/it would set up a church on earth for people to believe. It is quite likely to accept god, to love god and in return to be accepted by god and be loved by god but not be accepted and loved by his/her/its church.34

As I was contemplating the dark mysteries of the soul, I stepped in shit, not my shit but the shitty policeman.  I think his essence soaked into my shoe.  I really thought he could take a little better care of himself.  As I was cleaning him off, I thought I saw a burning bush in my mind.  A woman’s short and curlies were on fire and she was screaming in pain.  A voice beside her called my name.  Lo and behold it was god.35

“I figured I would try and get your attention Hunyadijanos.”  I agreed that the gimmick was better than most and now that the woman, strangely bovine in appearances, had put out the flames I could see her slink over to Yemessee to put her obese mottled arm around his neck.  Instantly she disappeared in a blinding flash of light.36

“What was that?”  I asked.  I was very interested where god was going to take this conversation and wondering if god could fix my steaming shoe; I was getting no where at ridding my shoe of the remnants of the rent a cop.37

‘That was Mari.  She is a bigger god than I am but that is my secret. Don’t tell anyone or I promise to send you biblical plagues.  Mari seems to dislike some of my perks of being a godling. ” Yemessee clearly was trying to appear larger than life but he seemed to be having internal conflicts.  He appeared hazy and another figure seemed to ominously threaten from behind him.38

I wondered if it was the obesity of the arm of the fiery bush that had Mari so upset but figured I would not risk angering two gods. “It is a pleasure to meet you god.  Do you happen to be the avatar of Yemessee or ImaCucumber.  Not that it matters but Ima seems to be so much more intelligent and refined.  By the way how are we having this conversation when I am agnostic?”  I mumbled these words not knowing if I should kneel to god or flip him off.  I decided to do both.39

“We are both Ima and Yem.  We are the great We Are. We are alpha and omega as well as the i before e except after c.  We are also agnostic so we do not understand the relevance of your question.  To answer your question about Mari the answer is both and neither.”  God looked confusingly at himself and both gods looked back at me hesitatingly.40

“Ahh the great i before e- to explain the relevance to my question let me restate.  If I do not believe in you how can you exist?”  I casually continued to kneel and flip god off, hoping this was the proper amount of respect to show god.41

God laughed good naturedly. “Ah We misunderstood.  We expected you to doubt your own existence not the existence of the terrible smoting wrath of god.  We are not quite sure if you exist Hunyadijanos.  But we are pretty sure you are a cosmic joke that unfortunately wasn’t funny.  Gods do not always have a clever sense of humor.”42

All of a sudden all the tense bitterness held in my soul melted away.  It all made sense.  I didn’t exist, or if I did exist I was a Divine attempt at humor that failed miserably.  I could continue my life miserable and happy but I was still left with the issue of getting a shit permit.  So standing on my feet and dropping my middle finger I asked god, “How do I gain access to your divine holiness’ church?”43

God chuckled again and told me “Hun you really give me and my church way too much credit.” With those ominous fateful words god left shaking my soul to its imaginary core.44

“What did god mean, how would I ever find out, would enough people shit on my yard to show I was accepted by the mass of Yemessee followers, and most importantly how was I ever to clean the shit off my shoes.”45