Previous installments of Mt. Olympus, Miami

“Belief. What is belief? Beyond belief. ‘What a Fool Believes.’ You don’t believe in me; I don’t believe in you . . .

“People will believe anything. Paul is dead. The moon landing was a sham. God has a beard. Why always a beard? And I quote from Genesis: ‘So God created man in His own image, in the image of God created He him.’ And yet, ninety percent of the time, Adam is depicted as being clean-shaven. What does he shave with? Rocks? Animal teeth? Specialized thistles? And why shave? This is pre-Fruit of Knowledge. Does he have head lice? A job interview? He’s oblivious to the concept of nudity, but he’s still self-conscious about a little bit of chin stubble?

“God’s beard—I guess I can see the logic there. A beard tends to give one a certain gravitas. It’s hard to imagine God creating the heavens and the Earth with a soul patch, or a Fu Manchu, or mutton chops. But who knows? God knows. He is all-knowing. Surely he knows about the Norelco 7810XL. The Braun 790CC. The Remington MS5200. Adam’s shaving with squirrel incisors, while God can’t be bothered for even a light trim. Mysterious ways. ‘Do you believe in miracles?’ ‘I Believe I Can Fly’ . . .

“Angels. People believe in angels. My issue with the angels is why are they always playing harps? Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got nothing against harps, but I feel like at some point the angels would get tired of being pigeonholed. I feel like, one angel, he gets issued his harp, and he’s like, ‘No thanks, I want to play the electric guitar. What do you have in a ’69 Telecaster?’ . . .

“Genies. People believe in genies too. They’re in the Koran, supernatural beings made of smokeless flame. In Western culture, they’re lamp-dwelling wish-dispensers. Me and this girl were talking genies the other day, and she brought up the issue of airport security. Stay with me, now. Let’s say you travel to Qatar, rub a lamp, acquire a genie. Great. Now you have to fly back to the U.S. If you put the genie in your checked baggage, you’re probably okay. But what if the plane goes down? Or your flight’s hijacked by terrorists? You’re going to want that genie in your carry-on, right? But then you have to get the genie past security. First off, if there’s any liquid in the lamp—residual oil, etc.—you’re screwed, unless the lamp’s less than three ounces, which—not likely. Second, remember, the genie’s made of smokeless flame. You think the TSA is going to go, ‘Oh, it’s alright, it’s just smokeless flame’? The obvious solution is to wish for a magic carpet, of course. But carpet-based travel . . . I don’t know, it doesn’t seem like the optimal means of transportation to me. What if it rains? You’re soaked, and the carpet gets damp, and sooner or later you get that mildew smell. Why do male genies live in lamps, and female genies live in bottles? What happens if a genie bottle gets recycled? For people who believe in genies, are lamps and bottles continual disappointments?

“People believe in love. What does that mean, exactly? ‘I saw her face, now I’m a believer.’ Knowledge is a type of belief, but not the only type. We can believe what we do not know. ‘Don’t Stop Believin.’ Why? What if we all stopped believing? What if we just knew? I know that this Heineken is two for one until 6 p.m. I know that Heineken is a 5% abv pale lager, brewed by Heineken International since 1873. But how do I know these things? Someone told me. They could be lying to me. But I believe them. But what if I stopped believing? Now what do I know? You smell terrific. Can I buy you a drink?

“I don’t believe you.”

To be continued in Part Seven: We’ll Always Have Brownsville

Previous installments of Mt. Olympus, Miami

Photo by Travis Nicholson on Flickr