World Affairs

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In the beginning
God created
the heavens
and
the earth.
[Genesis 1:1]
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"I just watched that
BP VIDEO,
LORD!"

[PATIENT SILENCE.]

"Ya know what's WRONG,
with IT?"

[SILENCE.]

"LORD?"
(Look up.)
"LORD!
ARE YOU LISTENING?"

[CALM VOICE.]
[WATCHING THE OIL
SPILL IN THE GULF.]
"I AM
hearing every
word,
My precious."

"Well......LISTEN!
Listen, I got TWO ideas
for that billionaire guy!"

"Who,
child?"

"That Tony-GUY!
The ONE who looks like
he's got a PERMANENT
case of IBS*!"

[SHAKING HEAD
IN CONSTERNATION.]
[CHUCKLE.]
[GLANCE TO HIS RIGHT.]
[TURN BACK TO GAZE
AT HIS SCRUFFY CHILD
SIPPING A CAN
OF V-8 JUICE.]
"Tell Me,
My precious."

"Well.........."
(Thoughtful squint.)
"FIRST.........he's gotta.....
uh.....lose the.....eh,
ACCENT!"

[PATIENT FROWN.]

"NO, Lord!
NO! I'm not bein'
PREJUDICED!
NO! Uh, UH!
I LOVE THAT
BRITISH ACCENT!
IT'S SO SEXY, and.....
CHARMING**!"

[CHUCKLE.]
[GLANCE ONCE MORE,
OVER TO HIS RIGHT.]
[A GENTLE CHUCKLE CAN
BE HEARD, FROM THE
RIGHT THRONE.]

"BUT not THIS TIME!
Uh, uh! They need to
get somebody ELSE,
to TALK!"

[PATIENT VOICE.]
"Who, child."

"SOMEBODY WITH
A LOUISIANA-USA
ACCENT!"
(Impatient face at the
ceiling.)
"Don't You GET IT,
LORD? It's gotta
be SOMEBODY who
talks......AMERICAN!"

[PATIENT SQUINT,
ACCOMPANIED BY
FROWN, UPON RUMPLED
CHILD IN DOWDY BATHROBE
EATING A PIECE OF BREAD
SMOTHERED IN BUTTER
AND CINNAMON.]

(Licking a clump
of cinnamon off
the piece 'a bread.)
(Shout to the ceiling.)
"SEE WHAT I MEAN?
THEY NEED SOMEBODY
TO REPRESENT THEM,
WHO'S AN AMERICAN!
A REAL AMERICAN!
WITH AN AMERICAN
ACCENT, AND ALL!
ONE THAT DOESN'T
SOUND ALL SNOOTY,
AND UPPIDY!"

[PATIENT SIGH.]
"You don't need to
shout,
Mein kin'der."

(Shout.)
"OKAY!
BUT, LISTEN!
TELL THAT TONY-GUY
HE NEEDS TO GET
SOME GUY IN HIS
COMPANY WHO'S
FROM LOUISIANA...
OR GEORGIA....
OR SOUTH FLORIDA!"

[PATIENT NOD.]

"TELL HIM,
LORD! IT'LL
MAKE ALL THE DIFFERENCE!"

"I understand,
Mein kin'der.
Are you drinking
less soda."

"HUH?
YEAH, WHATEVER.
LISTEN!
When that GUY talks,
all us Americans THINK
of is.... the POOR COLONISTS!
FIGHTING AGAINST THE
BRITISH! ONLY....NOW,
IT'S THE POOR AMERICAN
FISHERMEN!"

[PATIENT NODDING
OF A BESMITTEN FATHER.]
"And, what is the
second thing,
Mein kin'der."

"HUH?
OH!
YEAH!
THEY GOTTA PUT MORE
BIRD-PICTURES INTO
THEIR COMMERICALS!
MORE BIRD-PICTURES!
IT'LL MAKE ALL THE
DIFFERENCE!
AMERICANS LOVE THEIR
PETS!
THEY LOVE ANIMALS!
AND, HATE OIL-PEOPLE!
YA GOTTA TELL'EM,
LORD!"

[NODDING.]
"Stop shouting,
My child."

"UH, UH....LORD!
NOT TILL YA FIX
THAT OIL MESS!
AND, HELP ALL THOSE
POOR BIRDS, LORD!"

[PAUSE.]
[CRADLING A SMALL
BIRD THAT HAS JUST
DROWNED IN A SEA
OF CEMENT-THICK OIL,
OFF THE LOUISIANA COASTLINE:
GREENISH-BLACK LIQUID DRIPPING
FROM ITS TINY BEAK.]
[TENDER VOICE.]
"I understand,
My child."
[GENTLY CLOSE THE
TINY EYELIDS IN DEATH.]
"I AM
listening."
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So,
God created
great
sea creatures
and every
living thing
that
moves,
with which
the waters
abounded,
according to
their kind,
and every
winged bird
according
to its
kind.
And God
saw
that
it was
good.
[Genesis 1:21]


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*Irritable Bowel Syndrome.
**The author has a
West-Philadelphia-born
-of-Jewish-Immigrant-Kids-
on-West-Oak-Lane-accent:
it isn't sexy or charming.

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