Over the previous few weeks a grumpiness had overcome me. This was not helped by a recent survey indicating that at least 53 or 55 percent of my fellow citizens, depending on the measure, are mean spirited and/or idiotic, choosing to vent their anger and/or hatred at the unemployed. Disgusted, I retired to a balcony overlooking the city, where I fasted, eating only when hungry, and allowed myself just to feel, rather than think. On the third day, Invasion Day, a day that many of the mean spirited and idiotic think worth celebrating, a helicopter hovered beside the balcony. A wealthy man with white hair and beard wearing gaudy jewellery stepped out, taking a seat across from me at the table where I sat. A moment later, a younger guy with long hair joined him, interacting with some newfangled piece of phone technology. I didn't recognize them until they identified themselves. The older guy was God, the younger one Jesus. They said they had an important message to share with the 99 percent. I agreed to act as scribe once it was made clear that free will is an illusion.
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