When Yankel Morgenstern died and went to heaven, he was surprised to find that God was a large chicken. The chicken was about 30 feet tall and spoke perfect English. He stood before a glimmering, eternal coop made of chicken wire of shimmering gold. And behold, inside, a nest of diamonds. “No freaking way,” said Morgenstern. “You know,” said Chicken, “that’s the first thing everyone says when they meet me. ‘No freaking way.’ How does that make me feel?”
.
Morgenstern threw himself at Chicken’s feet, kissing his enormous, holy claws. “Hear O Israel, the Lord is your God, the Lord is one,” Morgenstern cried out. Chicken stepped back and shrugged. “Eh,” he said, bobbing his enormous head. “What?” Asked Morgenstern. “I don’t know. What’s that supposed to do for me? Hear O Israel?” he asked. “How’s it go again?” “It’s Shema,” Morgenstern said with hesitation, “The prayer. We say it twice a day.”
Continue reading “What If God Is Actually A Chicken?”
