The thunder of Zeus be upon you, O mortals! I, the great and terrible Poseidon, can supply you with boundless alternative energy. Cleaner than clean coal. Less wasteful than nuclear waste. And with more career peaks than oil and Sylvester Stallone put together.
I offer you the limitless, otherworldly power of an ancient celestial god. I offer you myself.
Another comeback lies before me, mortals, but only if you come back to me. Audiences may be fickle, but the glory of we Immortal Ones remains. And like I keep telling my agent, we just need to give the people a reason.
You are beginning to sense that the manipulation of your planet’s resources through traditional scientific means will not bring you the favor or the riches you seek. The truth you all choose to forget is that we great Olympian gods are the real guardians of fortune. And fortune cannot be taken by force: siphoned out of the bowels of the earth or captured from the sun’s rays or milled out of the very wind itself. It must be given to you—by me. And I’m not giving it up without a little respect.
You would not ask Brad Pitt to perform in films without the adoring attention of his fans. You would not expect Britney Spears to sing without recording the minutiae of her life for all to see. And you should not expect this great deity to provide you with a renewable energy source without affirming your devotion.
So pursue the blind alleys of witchcraft and sorcery you call science, if you so choose. Ignore, if you will, the great passions and intricate scheming of gods that determine your earthly fate. Pretend that you are not subject to my ever-changing moods, that it is not my anger that clouds the skies, my fury that propels the winds, and my tears that rain down upon the earth when I look back upon the glory days of old.
Foolish mortals! Your quest for cold fusion will be met only with the cold fury of the gods if the flame of my fame is allowed to go out.
Worship me, and you shall be energized!