Book of Jim: Agnostic Parables and Dick Jokes From Lucifer's Paradise Read Free Page B

fire and the blackfire glittered over broken glass.  Molotov cocktails flashed yellow when they bit into the riot shields.  Many lay dead and dying.  Jim saw at last a man with a noodle strainer for a helm, who was beaten into death by the batons of the police.  He turned away.
    Drum ca- nun ca- drum ca- nun ca- drum .
    “Is that really happening?  Like, on Earth?”
    “Yep.”
    “Why is that funny?”  Jim declined the angel’s popcorn.
    “Well in truth it isn’t that funny,” the angel said.  “You should have seen Carthage.  Now that was a good show.  Or Nanking, or Rwanda.  This revolt isn’t bad for a slow decade, though.”
    “You watch us suffer for entertainment ?”
    Drumma ca- drumma na- drumma ca- nun ca- drum .
    “Suffering is the only thing you’re good at,” the angel said.
    “Oh come on.”  Jim rubbed the temples of his head with the palms of his hands.  “What about baseball?  We’re pretty good at baseball.”
    “You’re terrible at baseball.  Angels play it with a moon and the energies of light.”
    “I mean, there’s good stuff, too.  Like, weddings and celebrations.  Art and architecture.   You know, the good stuff.”
    “Did you enjoy weddings?”
    “Well, no.”
    Jim’s head imploded some more.  The pain was too much and he went to his knees.
    “Fuck,” he said.  “Why are we so good at suffering?  Why do we suffer at all?”
    Drumma ca- nun -drum.
    2
    BANG!
    The door burst open and through it came the bald bespectacled man, who was kind.  Instead of a clipboard he carried with him a manila envelope. 
    “Jim!  Well you certainly don’t waste any time, do you?”  And the bald bespectacled man handed the manila envelope to Jim.
    Jim accepted the envelope.  “Did the virgin get her lumberjack?”
    “Thirty-nine of them and counting.  She’s got quite the appetite.”
    “That’s good.”  Jim looked upon the envelope.  “What is this?  Why are you here?”
    “It’s a summons.  I’m afraid you’ve been served.  But don’t worry, Jim.  Just keep your chin up and everything will come out alright.  Angel.”  The bald bespectacled man nodded at the angel and then departed.
    “He tried to hook me up with a virgin.  At the orgy,” Jim said.  “And now he’s summonsing me?”
    “Happens a lot around here,” said the angel.  “I moonlight as a jazz pianist.”
    So Jim opened the envelope and inside there was a single sheet of paper.  He read it aloud:
    Jim v Logic
    You are hereby commanded to appear in the Court of Existence to defend yourself in the above-titled case and to answer to the following charge(s)
    Charge(s): Asking a loaded question.
    Court of Existence
    Jean Paul Sartre Courthouse
    Downtown, Paradise
    “What the hell is a loaded question?” Jim said.
    “I think it means you’re full of shit,” the angel said.  And he put his eye to the telescope, munched on the popcorn, and laughed.
    3
    Jim had defended himself in court before, but that was in Tennessee and for a traffic violation.  He doubted his abilities extended to loaded questions in the Court of Existence in paradise .  So he took out his smart phone and he searched for:
    “human suffering” AND “loaded question” AND “lawyer”.
    There was one result.  The result was William and William: Defense Attorneys for the Anguish’d Heart.  And their offices were in Downtown, Paradise.
    So he came to a small office building nestled into one of the many corners of the city.  Inside he found a single space, cluttered with parchments and books, and perched on a pile of books was the countenance of William Shakespeare. 
    “What’s the charge?”  Shakespeare didn’t look up, for he was buried in a tome.
    “I, uh, I asked a loaded question,” Jim said.
    “The question?”
    “Why is there suffering.  In the world.  Why do people suffer.”
    “Well, it would seem you’ve come through the right door.”  Shakespeare closed the tome.  “Please,