God Made Me Do It

by Hartzman, Marc

• ISBN13: 9781402236075
• ISBN10: 1402236077
• Format: Paperback
• Copyright: 2010-03-01
• Publisher: Sourcebooks Inc

Summary

Does God, in His infinite wisdom, convince people to get rid of their car insurance? Does He encourage cannibalism? Does the God of more than six billion people actually have time to root for the Minnesota Vikings? According to some, yes. How do they know? God told them. Luckily, God also told Marc Hartzman to write this book, a collection of the most shocking, absurd, and hilarious things people have ever claimed God asked them to do, and to present them for your pure reading enjoyment. Including: The man that God told to perform surgery on himself God's generous offer to miraculously fill his believer's gas tank The fateful day God (assumedly feeling nostalgic for his teen years) asked a man to TP a police station The woman God instructed to direct traffic--topless And, sadly, many more

Excerpts

<p>It is my profound honor to offer this book to you, the reader, and esteemed brethren everywhere. For it was I who was chosen to deliver it, not any one of the other several billion people milling about this wondrous planet. Whether it was through the greatest eenie-meenie-miny-moe the world has ever known or a well-informed divine decision, the Lord tapped me for this book.</p><p>It all began one partly cloudy evening when a healthy patch of shrubbery spontaneously burst into flames in my vicinity. I instinctively began to run from it, fearing for my own safety, but as I took that first step, I heard a deep, booming voice call my name. I immediately knew it wasn't James Earl Jones; we'd never met and he, too, would've fled from the horrific inferno.</p><p>It was God.</p><p>There He stood aglow, majestically adorned in a freshly ironed white tunic with His wavy, snowlike hair and long, flowing beard fluttering in a glorious breeze. The accuracy of God's numerous portrait artists over the years was simply uncanny. With the heat blazing in my face, I dripped in sweat as God and I began our chat:</p><p><strong>God: </strong><em>Marc, I am the Lord your God, and I command thee to write a book! A book documenting my more recent conversations with my children of the world-my political leaders, my overpaid athletes, my murderers, my preachers, my bumpkins, and whoever else's ears I've whispered into. Spread the Lord's lesser-known and most outlandish words unto all who will listen.</em></p><p><strong>MH: </strong><em>Is this burning bush really necessary? You know arson is illegal. We've come a long way since Moses.</em></p><p><strong>God: </strong><em>This is exactly the point this book needs to make. Listen carefully, little man: Almighty as I am, supreme as I may be, I screw up now and then. I've got 6,706,993,152 people to look after and even more prayers to listen to. I've got heaven to manage, new creations to ponder, and that pesky Satan to thwart. I'm busy as hell. So sometimes, every here and there, I say things that might be regrettable.</em></p><p><strong>MH: </strong><em>So you're making excuses?</em></p><p><strong>God: </strong><em>Do you have any idea what a typical Sunday is like? Congregations from every corner of the Earth talking at once, starving people across the continents begging me for food, shouts from every hospital sick bed, and millions of fist-pumping shmohawks yammering on about their football team needing to win. And what makes you people think Earth is the only planet I'm in charge of? I'm a tug of war being yanked from infinite ends.</em></p><p><strong>MH: </strong><em>But you're omnipotent. And, I might add, omnipresent.</em></p><p><strong>God: </strong><em>I'm exactly what people define me as. Right now, I'm what you want me to be. In fact, are you really sure I'm even talking to you? Will anyone believe you? What will you say when the fire department arrives and you're charged with second-degree arson? You can speak to me every day, and no one will question you. But the moment you let someone know I answered, someone will offer you medication and an insulting smirk. Everyone wants to think an all-powerful being can't speak. Now, skedaddle-I hear sirens. Write the book, sell a million copies, and buy yourself something nice. Like I said, I command thee. And now I must go; there are sneezes I need to bless. Toodles!</em></p><p><strong>MH: </strong><em>Wait! Quick question-if you created everything, who created you? Who?!?</em></p><p><strong>God: </strong><em>[Drifting toward the heavens, offering a thumbs-up]</em></p><p><strong>MH: </strong><em>Goddamn it!</em></p>