Well, Jesus-time is over once more, and once more we’re all propvol of piety for another year, but I don’t know, something went out of Abraham’s religion and a lot of moral hygeine came in, and anyway I tend to doubt people who say they’ve been walking about in the Levantine wilderness without shampoo or toilet paper whilst talking to somebody without a body about a whole lot of morals for everybody who has a body. Back in the days of Lot, if there was a message for you from the Outbaas, a full-on dinkum angel with a real body would call round to your street address and give it to you straight, no crap about if you are meek you will inherit the earth and such like. I’ve seen a few meek folks in my day and they’ve had a bloody rough time being kicked about by the unmeek and all they’ve inherited is a hole in the ground at an early age.
Dad and the girls press on irregardless, deeper and deeper into the dezz, and it’s not too long before they realise they’re down to the last chicken and if they’re not pretty clever they’re going to be eating each other like those Argentine rugby players whose plane plunged into the Andean snows. No snow round here, of course, but they find a titchy little stream with mosquito eggs and a great big cave with batshit ankle deep. They fall upon their knees and praise the Oubaas for his bounty and set to and sweep out the batshit and eat the bats and settle down to a normal life once more. But H.Sapiens is a strange restless creature, and after a bit these two daughters who have never known man become exceeding jags and there being no neighbours round here they fall upon ol’ Lot and steek him stupid and become preggersfontein, both of them, and found a kind of intellectually disadvantaged tribe of Abraham whose blood runs in the veins of Israeli fighter pilots to this day, maybe that’s why they shoot obsessively at the pillar of salt. It is encoded in their genes.
