God's Honest Truth 

The Boss Upstairs on misguided Orrin Hatch

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Speaking at a Lincoln Day breakfast in St. George on Saturday, Hatch said: “I would be letting down my Father in Heaven if I didn’t run again.” —Paul Rolly, The Salt Lake Tribune, Feb. 22.

It’s always a good idea to go straight to the horse’s mouth when any politician says he is just following orders, whether from a horse, a heavenly father or whomever. Especially when the politician happens to be the senior senator from Utah, the honorable Orrin Hatch, who has a propensity for excitable utterances of various sorts.

The horse’s mouth in this case is not the famous talking equine Mr. Ed, who in the past has given Senator Hatch advice and counsel on a host of issues, but Senator Hatch’s very own Father in Heaven. Is the senior senator’s heavenly father, in fact, God, aka the Supreme Being, the Creator of the Universe, Allah, the Great Spirit, Elohim, Ahuramazda, Shiva, the Great Nobodaddy in the Sky, et al.? Or is he a lesser deity, a personage somewhat lower on the Great Chain of Being?

To find out, and to ascertain whether Senator Hatch was truthful about receiving instructions from on high, we used the newest smart-phone app, Ask God, which is rapidly replacing Apple’s Siri as the newest and hippest phone app. God answered on the first ringtone, and agreed to sit down for an interview anyplace, anytime. Sensing our surprise, the Man Upstairs chortled and assured us that due to omniscience he was expecting our call, and that his omnipresence and omnipotence allowed him to pop up anywhere, anytime.

In no time at all, we were having coffee at the Starbucks in Foothill Village (God drinks his black, and despite several huge gulps, His cup remained filled to the brim throughout our visit).

Deep End: Let’s cut to the chase: Are you, in fact, Senator Hatch’s Father in Heaven?

God: What, are you going to give me some sort of paternity test or something? Is Orrin suing me for child support? If he is, tell him he’s too long in the tooth for me to be subsidizing him.

D.E.: No, I think the senior senator was simply asserting that you were encouraging him to once more venture into the breach.

God: As if I have time to keep track of the billions of spirits I’ve scattered across the universe. OK, OK, I admit I tune in to cable every once in a while, and I get fed up with these politicians all claiming I’m on their side. I wish they’d just keep me out of it, especially since some of them just make me cringe, like that fanatic Santorum kid who thinks he’s the only one with the proper theology. His wife said that it was my “will” that he win, and that I had “big plans for him.” He better watch out that I don’t plan to give him a rash from those ugly sweaters he wears.

D.E.: Isn’t it OK for the wives to stand by their men, like Santorum’s wife and Romney’s wife, who told Mit to run because only he could “save the soul of our nation”?

God: My wife, Mrs. God, is always on my back to do this or that, but aside from inflicting an occasional rash or gas and bloating, I pretty much stick to a hands-off policy. See that jerk practically yelling on his cell phone over there? In the old days, I would have struck him dumb on the spot. I used to be more proactive in my wrath, laying waste to entire peoples and nations, but like my heavenly son, Orrin Hatch, I’m getting on in years and just don’t have the energy I used to have. Thank God for coffee.

D.E.: Sounds like you think our senior senator ought to retire and take it easy.

God: Here’s the deal. He wouldn’t let me down at all if he doesn’t run, but on the other hand, he drinks all these energy elixirs and pops vitamin pills by the barrel and just keeps on going. But if I were in his shoes, I’d just get in my jammies, order out and watch TV around the clock.

D.E.: Before you go—are you backing my old missionary companion Mit Romney for president?

God: What’s God spelled backward? And which of my creatures did my son Mit strap to the top of his car for a 12-hour trip? Draw your own conclusions.

D.P. Sorensen writes a satire column for City Weekly.

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