The thunder of Zeus be upon me this time, mortals. I have failed you. And I’m a big enough god to admit it. It is difficult for me to do this, but my sponsor, Demeter, has convinced me that the path to recovery begins with honesty.
And so I must confess that while the ships of men were engaged in a life-or-death struggle on my seas, I was nowhere to be found. In fact, I only knew about it after the battle was done. The fact is, mortals, that I, the great and terrible Poseidon, was on a bit of a bender. I had drunk deep from the nectar of Bacchus and breathed heavily from the smoke of the oracle, and was pretty much out to lunch the whole time.
The divine truth is this: I have a problem.
O, cursed fate! That this immortal life should yield such despair, such weakness! I used to be bigger than Jesus. I used to be Jesus. Men worshipped me, prayed to me. Lived and died at the mercy of my whims. And then, in an eye-blink of eternity, it was all suddenly gone, leaving me holding the bag. (I keep the fates in a bag since my divorce.)
Then, the millennia of waiting. The silence, the banal, evil, crushing silence of mankind. Some of we Olympians began to doubt the very existence of your souls, leaving a great void in our spiritual life. For what meaning can there be to a world of clockmakers without clocks? What is a god without his creations? If men did not exist, it would become necessary to invent them. And who wants to go through that whole business again?
But I chose faith. I chose to see what was clear before my eyes, that your souls were indeed there—only astray. Your prayers were not absent; they were simply directed elsewhere. And with a little patience, a little grace, I might hear them again.
I wish I could say that my faith has been unwavering. But I have been tested, mortals. And your silence fills me with a sadness so deep I can only fill it with wine, and an anger so hot I can only cool it with bong water. I am omnipotent, mortals, but I’m not perfect!
So I was not there to see your standoff. But it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. I was not called upon. No prayers reached me. Even in a crisis on the seas seen round the world, no one saw me, the one true god of the deep.
But I do not ask for your pity, mortals. I still rule the oceans. I am still master of all things wet. I still carry your pitiful lives in my hands. I am a great and terrible god, and you shall soon learn to worship me as of old!
In the meantime, though, my name is Poseidon, and I’m an addict.
that's pretty funny, especially if you know any program people.
Ahhh…Poseidon who is our own dear Neptune, turn not your triton upon us but only those who would kill your blue whales, pretty dolphins and other awesome sea creatures. We DO worship you–albeit silently – hear us now!!
That Zeus looks alot like a sim to me. Hmm…..
THE TWELVE STEPS OF ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS
1. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become
unmanageable.
2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to
sanity.
3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we
understood Him.
4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.
5. Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature
of our wrongs.
6. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.
7. Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.
8. Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make
amends to them all.
9. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do
so would injure them or others.
10. Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly
admitted it.
11. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with
God, as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us
and the power to carry that out.
12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these Steps, we tried to
carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our
affairs.
wow