MAN'S DOMINION
And on the next day, which was the third day, Bruce arose from his slumbers early, spurned His toasted Vegemite soldiers and ticked off the next item on His list; then, flicking His cigarette butt into His neighbours geraniums, said, "Let Man have dominion over the fowl of the air, and over the fishes of the Seas, and over every creeping thing that creepeth.
Then created He double-barrelled Winchester shotguns, so that Man might have dominion over the fowl of the air; and for dominion over the fishes of the Seas he created fibreglass fishing rods; and for dominion over every creeping thing that creepeth, created He large baseball bats and size ten thongs.
And Man didst have dominion over every other creature, and didst promptly commence to slaughter every living thing that moveth; yea, and even some that didn’t. And things became such that if you lived somewhere like New York or Atlanta or Los Angeles, then Bruce help you.
And the hoofed beasts knew no sanctuary; nor the winged fowl; nor the fishes; for most of them ended up between sesame seed buns or stuffed full of sage and onion, or flat on a plate covered with a thick white sauce and a sprig of parsley.
And as Bruce worked through the fourth day; and then the fifth day, He beheld Man who had been created in His own image, and He noticed that things weren’t quite right. For Man appeared to be of assorted colours, and of diverse creeds, and of varying football team allegiances; and there were those who liked Barry Manilow and those who couldn’t stand him; and all this diversity was a bit of a worry.
And He put it down to the weariness which was overtaking His body, and He beheld all the rejects and mistakes that were beginning to pile up at the back of the garden, and the garbo wouldn’t be at all happy, having to cart such a lot away. So He vowed that all would take their place upon His good earth, and He discarded them not.
But these lesser beings – those that were full of imperfections – were to dwell upon the Earth in their shame, and they were reviled for their imperfections, and suffered the scorn and ridicule of others. And to these a special name was given; and the name was Politician.
Then, at last, it was the seventh day, and Bruce rested from His labours. And He set aside the seventh day for those who liked to wash their cars, or to mow their lawns at six o’clock in the morning.
Then His neighbours were summoned unto the house of Bruce, so that they might behold His great work of creation and glorify Him in His greatness. But when he beheld their sniggers and their giggles, He reproached them, saying, "No worries, it’s not finished yet; it should be OK by Thursday or Friday of next week."
But, as He clutched His tinny and made the odd alteration here and there, He was beginning to think He might have made a bit of a blue with His Grand Design. For,during all this time, whilst He’d been flat out like a lizard drinking, the crinkly stuff had been disappearing as fast as a rat up a drainpipe; for His bank account was the only thing about Him that wasn’t infinite.
And the one called Gaylene had her doubts also; and shook her head as she beheld Him from the kitchen window. For she feared that His latest project was fast turning into just another one of His botched jobs.
And, alas, so it wouldst come to pass.
And on the next day, which was the third day, Bruce arose from his slumbers early, spurned His toasted Vegemite soldiers and ticked off the next item on His list; then, flicking His cigarette butt into His neighbours geraniums, said, "Let Man have dominion over the fowl of the air, and over the fishes of the Seas, and over every creeping thing that creepeth.
Then created He double-barrelled Winchester shotguns, so that Man might have dominion over the fowl of the air; and for dominion over the fishes of the Seas he created fibreglass fishing rods; and for dominion over every creeping thing that creepeth, created He large baseball bats and size ten thongs.
And Man didst have dominion over every other creature, and didst promptly commence to slaughter every living thing that moveth; yea, and even some that didn’t. And things became such that if you lived somewhere like New York or Atlanta or Los Angeles, then Bruce help you.
And the hoofed beasts knew no sanctuary; nor the winged fowl; nor the fishes; for most of them ended up between sesame seed buns or stuffed full of sage and onion, or flat on a plate covered with a thick white sauce and a sprig of parsley.
And as Bruce worked through the fourth day; and then the fifth day, He beheld Man who had been created in His own image, and He noticed that things weren’t quite right. For Man appeared to be of assorted colours, and of diverse creeds, and of varying football team allegiances; and there were those who liked Barry Manilow and those who couldn’t stand him; and all this diversity was a bit of a worry.
And He put it down to the weariness which was overtaking His body, and He beheld all the rejects and mistakes that were beginning to pile up at the back of the garden, and the garbo wouldn’t be at all happy, having to cart such a lot away. So He vowed that all would take their place upon His good earth, and He discarded them not.
But these lesser beings – those that were full of imperfections – were to dwell upon the Earth in their shame, and they were reviled for their imperfections, and suffered the scorn and ridicule of others. And to these a special name was given; and the name was Politician.
Then, at last, it was the seventh day, and Bruce rested from His labours. And He set aside the seventh day for those who liked to wash their cars, or to mow their lawns at six o’clock in the morning.
Then His neighbours were summoned unto the house of Bruce, so that they might behold His great work of creation and glorify Him in His greatness. But when he beheld their sniggers and their giggles, He reproached them, saying, "No worries, it’s not finished yet; it should be OK by Thursday or Friday of next week."
But, as He clutched His tinny and made the odd alteration here and there, He was beginning to think He might have made a bit of a blue with His Grand Design. For,during all this time, whilst He’d been flat out like a lizard drinking, the crinkly stuff had been disappearing as fast as a rat up a drainpipe; for His bank account was the only thing about Him that wasn’t infinite.
And the one called Gaylene had her doubts also; and shook her head as she beheld Him from the kitchen window. For she feared that His latest project was fast turning into just another one of His botched jobs.
And, alas, so it wouldst come to pass.
Chapter 4 - The Southern Land
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