I hope I'm not alone in finding it incredibly inconsistent that God would spend thousands of years hammering home one single mission statement—under NO circumstances can you EVER worship ANYONE BUT ME—then, out of nowhere, send His son down to Earth and not expect some confusion.

Put it like this: if you had children, and from their births onward you did nothing but threaten to drown them, burn them and destroy utterly every thing they've ever loved if they ever listen to anyone but you? You've given away your right to be surprised when they nail the babysitter to a tree.

Some long-haired idiot starts going around preaching tolerance and love and eternal rewards in the afterlife—oh, and by the by, he's the son of God—I can sort of understand how this might have been greeted with skepticism. "Have you met your father? We're talking about the guy who threatened to kill my kids last week unless I prayed twice as hard."

My take is, after six thousand years of yelling until His throat was hoarse not to worship false gods, God finally decided to figure out why people were attracted to them in the first place, and discovered they offered people actual hope, without as many furious threats of skin-flaying murder. Tired of seeing his consumer base run off to rival gods, and realizing that the whole threat-based advertising campaign wasn't hitting his target demo, God clearly must have realized: if He didn't take care of the acolyte, the competition would.

His son sprinted to Earth with the new marketing strategy, and of course was promptly killed—because really, claiming to be the son of the biggest asshole in the universe is like writing "Nail Stakes Here" on your palms with a sharpie. But despite a few early kinks, God's big franchising initiative caught on in the long term—the New Testament's been on the bestseller lists ever since.

if you honestly believe the old smelly guy in the sandals is a conduit through which an omnipotent being complains at you, I'm willing to concede to the power of your faith. But the second a prophet assures you God told him to fuck prostitutes and you aren't getting suspicious, I'm afraid you've left Faithville entirely and moved to Gullible Retardburg.

I mean, come on: hookers? This is Old Testament God, for Old Testament God's sake. He afflicts people with boils for saying His name aloud. I'm no Bible expert, but I think it's safe to say anyone threatening to kill you for using make-up isn't about to let you solicit prostitutes just to visualize a point. What, is God writing an essay or something? He's God. When He wants you to do something, He doesn't waste time comparing your sins to the fucking rain against a windowsill; He chisels DO THIS into a big goddamn rock and shoots flaming swords at your skull if you don't.

If someone's telling you the Lord asked him to do something so He could transform it into heavy-handed allegory, it's possible you're not worshipping God. You might actually be worshipping the scrawny goth kid who chain smokes cigarettes behind the Kentucky Fried Chicken.

“Ye are not my people, and I will not be your God.” (Hosea 1:9)