Big Dope doesn’t like it much when I question him about religious ecstasy among your species. He’s says it’s too complicated for me.
Me, a member of the Falloonian intelligentsia? Someone who travelled through three galaxies to reach your puzzling planet? Too complicated? Someone who can speak fluently in over 6,500 of your languages, some of which are spoken by fewer than 1,000 people. That doesn’t include dialects. I can even understand and translate rural southern English, although I do have trouble speaking it, and the Falloonian Elders claim I’m making it up.
Too complicated for me? Why I have more cognitive capability in less than a tenth of one of my three brains than he has in his whole puny cranium. Too complicated? Here you have a creature that can instantly compute loci to thousands of planets in over 200 billion galaxies.
One religion in one country in one planet in one galaxy of the known universe? How hard could it be?
“Then explain to me,” he says, “how the official religion of a major political party in the most powerful country on our planet has selected Rick Perry to explain the mental workings and purposes of its god Jehovah, who created those 200 billion galaxies.”
“Rick Perry?” I says.
“The Rick Perry?”
“The Rick Perry.”
“Let me make sure,” I says. “The Rick Perry who couldn’t name the three government agencies he would abolish if he were elected president?”
“The very one.”
If you’ll excuse me, dear friend, I have some studying to do.
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