The God Choice Awards 2065

A spoof by Dustin Pickering


Everyone knew the apocalypse was coming someday. After all, the Christ told us the endtimes were due and he left a few signs for us to look for. Some thinkers speculated that the endtimes already happened during the times of Paul the Apostle. Jewish scholars often tempered their arguments against the divinity of Jesus with rhetoric concerning Paul’s eschatology.

In the year 2025, it was announced that the final days were upon us. Television anchors and newscasters were in doubt — how could it be? The Holy Scriptures were right? The secular world was aghast in outrage. God could not come to our planet. He was made of fairy dust and he corrupted our world with his dogma. Freedom was a joke under his thumb. The concept of the endtimes had declined in popularity and people developed their own religions and thoughts around new concepts. St. Paul’s eschatology indicated that the end already happened when Jesus was buried and resurrected. No one, I mean no one, trusted the announcement of the endtimes.

It came over a large speaker.

“Attention! Attention all civilians! Civilisation has reached maximum corruption. We are the most decadent race in existence. Humanity must be redeemed, and the world forgotten. There is something new ahead of us. The end is near! The end is near! Beware of falsehoods and faithlessness. We are in the final stages of civilised decay. Continue on your path. Do not renounce your dreams. Salvation is at hand. Beware! The future of humankind is above us.”

After the dozens of wars recently fought, the birth of neo-colonial far right identitarian policy imposed from above, the races were in riot against one another. There were continuous earthquakes and floods all over the world, increase in diseases and famines, poverty at a height not seen in hundreds of years, and cruelty among the masses at its worst ever, hopelessness flooded humanity in a way never seen before. Even the Scripture was tossed into the fire. People doubted their own faith and deities and stopped trusting one another. The apocalypse would emerge soon.

The spontaneous emergence of fear and desolation accompanied by hope and revelation: the apocalypse. How can these two streams of being flood the universal human soul at once? They had for thousands of years. The Lord picked up these trippy vibes in the air—the twelve currents of IsReal, mistranslated into twelve tribes, were actually states and phenomenon, not political entities. However, the future of human awakening bled into the text of Scripture and the word “tribes” became the source material for Zionism. The shifting realities within the human soul, dubbed “IsReal”, became manifest in the country of Israel in 1948. The United Nations reluctantly acknowledged the country as its kibbutz were struggling to fight off Arab warriors. When the British visited the small villages to assess the situation, they were chased off by Jewish farmers who believed strongly in Israel. For years, they had toasted to “Next year, in Israel.” Now the Zionism they dreamed, that beautiful mountain of the soul, became a political reality and utopian visions melded with truth in splendour.

To his chagrin, Michael Drezier lost his doubt. A stern atheist for most of his life, he decided to visit Israel to see this new political reality. If it was everything said of it, he would turn over his agnosticism for good. He would convert to the ways of Christ. God was already at work on his destiny. His head was blessed with golden fire.

Michael spent six weeks in the country of Israel in the year 1952. This was prior to the Six Day’s War. Hostilities were not at their peak. Yet Michael talked with the Prime Minister.

“We all believe this is God’s land and we are God’s people. It is our holy mission, we tell others, to bring God into the world,” PM Ariel Bleikowitz told Michael. “The Jewish people are survivors. In your country, a survivor becomes a whiner. We always had hope that God’s justice would come to fruition through us.”

Michael asked, “What if you are destroyed? Do you have enemies? Why the violence?”

“We must protect what we have. God ordained our mission. He gave us this land. We are bringing the next state of being into the world as we did when we wrote Scripture.”

“But Scripture, as you call it, is human. A human hand held an instrument and composed it. It was edited, translated, and anthologised by humans. How am I supposed to believe it is truly God who speaks from it?”

“Much of what the Scriptures told was meant for us, strictly. Books were removed that did not contain the universal message of salvation.” PM Bleikowitz blinked sullenly. She didn’t really have the answers.

“But why do you not believe in Jesus Christ? Most of the Western world believes in his divinity. Even the Arab people believe in him as a prophetic voice. However, you deny him as Savior.” Michael paused. “If he isn’t the Savior of humanity, all of Scripture is based on pretense as I have often argued.”

“Michael, I consider the Gospel to be a kind of midrash.” She paused and scratched the sweat from her brow. “I cannot explain this. It is a mystery. The truth is Jesus was one of us—a Jew. We are tired of being slaughtered and mocked. He is the very face of us. Was he real? As real as Israel. I cannot confirm any more than that.”

The sun shone into Michael’s eyes and he grew tired and impatient. As an atheist, he was often rebuked concerning his views on Biblical texts and it annoyed him. He couldn’t buy that God descended and expected his worship, him, a small man in a lousy world.

“You know, we are a tiny fraction of this entire being in life. We are small creatures cast by God into a large universe. We aren’t alone, though, I know it.” The Prime Minister smiled, deep sorrow in her eyes. “The pogroms were bad enough. I had some grandparents who were tortured during them, their houses burned to the ground. A certain mystic in Russia advocated Jewish extermination. That book—Protocols of the Elders of Zion? He wrote it. To dismiss our mission. The world hates us. Why, Michael? We are people trying to live. We want the best for everyone.”

Michael had tears in his eyes. In his heart, he felt for this person. She continued to talk to him, his ears open.

“After Hitler, what was next? Our people have grieved the loss of God’s land since before the Christian era. God promised return. We have returned.” Prime Minister Bleikowitz sighed. “I can’t discuss this anymore. Enjoy your visit.” She closed the curtains to block the light and heat from outside. She then looked Michael in the eyes directly, calmly. “Michael, it is the end. Don’t doubt this. This is my faith.” Something in her words struck Michael deeply. When he left her presence, he was not the same.

Late night, at his hotel Michael smoked a cigar. When it reached its final ash, he stuffed it into the ground and went to his room. When he got to his bed, he pulled a notebook from the drawer. He picked up the pen on the dresser and began to write. What he wrote is considered the last of the Solemn Prophecies.

War after war challenged the legitimacy of the State of Israel whose flag stood tall in spite of the death toll. As humanity rolled into the next millennium like a limousine into an impoverished neighborhood, fear escalated, and people lost their minds in the millions. Energies were at their height when finally, something happened that relaxed things. Hope sprang eternal.

Michael died and left the paper he wrote with his family. He requested it be opened on April 1, 2065 by the eldest of the sons. When the son opened it, he passed out on the floor. It echoed what had taken place for the previous 100 years and noted what would take place in the coming months. The text follows.

“Sons and daughters of humanity: a moment has struck me anew. The State of Israel will face war after war and will struggle relentlessly on Yom Kipper. The Suez Canal will be the end of the British Empire as we know it. After the wars, America will become the world power. After the year 2000, American power will begin its decline while the dollar remains steady. An unpopular president will be elected who will move the American embassy to Jerusalem, signifying an attitude that will dominate until the end of the world. Israel’s struggle to exist will end as the Son of Man returns.

In the year 2065, a plan will be unveiled yet to be disclosed. This plan will finalise the existence of humanity within the ideality of its preconceived intention, before darkness sets over its eyes. You will find this prophecy buried under the Hill of the Skull where Jesus Christ was crucified. It is there the contest of the endtimes will take place and determine the fate of the world.”

In November 2016, President Trump came into power. His hair slightly messy and numbers short at his inauguration, he still appeared suave and strong. He would be the one to begin the end.


President Trump had been locked in a cryogenic mold for the previous four decades. His mind, it turned out, was so brilliant that science needed to study it. His ability to negotiate revealed itself in his second term.

In November 2020, after the SCOTUS (Supreme Court of the United States) struck down multiple laws concerning reproduction that were abysmally stupid, President Trump was elected to a second term. The blue cities turned red with rage and began destroying everything. Riots went on for 30 days and 30 nights. Finally, the President issued a proclamation.

CNN reported in full. “My fellow Americans! Please do be bold and stop this despicable behavior. I do not plan to take your rights, your dreams. You may continue your lives with the rule of law sacrosanct. My first term was dirty with the Mueller report, the investigations following, the violence in Russia that annexed Ukraine, the entire world set ablaze after climate change was revealed to be a hoax. I promise you peace, so please have a seat. Come to the White House, pay me a visit. Send your emissaries. Let’s discuss. I have knowledge as revealed in the President’s book only I have access to. It is time to reveal the 12 secrets only I know, only other presidents know.”

This shook the country. Rioting stopped.

ANTIFA (Anti-fascist political movement) negotiated carefully with its allies to determine who would visit the White House on their behalf. Comrade G. Stern Woody was finally appointed. The leaders of the alt-right finally admitted they were a satirical art movement designed to infuriate the left, but even they appointed their own ambassadors to hear the 12 secrets. AFL-CIO (American Federation of Labor and Congress of Industrial Organizations)
appointed Don Drummand to visit. Each organisation voted for their own emissaries to the White House.

President Trump cooked hamburgers himself. He said his wife made a “mean salad” for everyone. Everyone nodded delightfully as they stuffed their faces.

The President pulled the curtains and smirked. “Folks, you are here for a reason. Many wondered why I moved the Embassy, why I had Schiff assassinated, why I did all the things I did. Yes, I even dismantled the Federal Reserve. But I am not the one in control.”

“Mr. President, who is?” said Mr. Drummand. “If not the leader of the once free world, who?”

“I don’t know,” the President responded, “but I can say I know things. We are here to hear what I can reveal.”

Everyone nodded as they stuffed their faces.

“Most of the 12 secrets are irrelevant.” He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. It was soft and wrinkled. He unfolded it carefully. “Sorry, it’s been washed a few times.”

The President spoke carefully and concertedly to the crowd of emissaries.

“The 12 secrets. I am going to give you the gist of the plot. Lyndon Johnson killed Kennedy. This signaled the end of the American Dream. Johnson was a Soviet spy all along. Nixon, the one I modeled my presidency after, turned out to be perfectly innocent. The entire thing was a setup. The powers created the illusion necessary to get him out of office before he saved the world. Nixon had a lot of connections. Reagan didn’t exist. He was a talking head on Animal Planet they just pasted a mask on. He didn’t even know the Star-Spangled Banner. Finally, the end is near.”

“Mr. President, what end?”

“The end of our world as we know. You know, the REM song.”

Within hours, the rioting stopped, the economy drastically improved, wars ceased completely, and everyone was happy until 2065 when the Solemn Prophecy was read. All faces turned sad.

Scientists revived President Trump so he could dig up the final prophecy.

“I’ve been asleep for decades! Call this beauty sleep,” he joked. They flew him to Israel. They had already dug under the Hill of the Skull and found a plastic box which was possibly 3000 years old, and it was sealed with dry bloodied fingerprints.

“The blood of Pilate.” The President wiped his teeth as he adjusted them. “Yes, that was one of the 12 secrets.” He paused for a moment. “Let’s sing the Star-Spangled Banner.” The world sang.

The President solemnly opened the box. The lid was tight. Finally, his frail hands lifted it as it broke from the box itself. He wiped the dirt off. He pulled a scroll from the center of the box. “The Seventh Scroll.”

Former President Trump read the writing.

“The contestants for God of the Year are Loki, Hammarabi, Venom, Jesus Christ, and Marcel Duchamp. How do you vote?”

The world voted for Jesus Christ.

“Jesus Christ, you are the winner. Please come forward for your trophy and give us a speech.”

Jesus appeared at the top of Mount Golgotha. He held the trophy in his hands. He lifted it. It was a golden hammer on marble stone. In the stone was carved “God of the Year 2056”.

Jesus smiled. “Thank you all for this award.” The world cheered. “I would like to thank the committee that sponsored this! Thank you, former President Donald Trump. Now, this contest promised to be the final one. I tell you, there’s one thing the world forgot years ago.” Everyone was silent. “I can’t tell you enough how unfair the world has been to you all. I know this, I suffered with you. I carried my cross and you have as well. Be a good sport! I have to tell you, though, you have everything wrong.”

There was silence as the world waited for Jesus to tell them why they were wrong.

“You can’t vote for God. This contest is a fraud.”

There was universal outrage.

“I have always been your god. You can’t vote for me or vote me out. Godhood is not a democracy. You can’t vote for the outcome.”

Jesus’s ratings fell significantly, constantly, for the remainder of the existence, yet he steadily remained God and did not give a damn.


Dustin Pickering is the founder of Transcendent Zero Press and editor-in-chief of Harbinger Asylum. He has authored several poetry collections, a short story collection, and a novella. He is a Pushcart nominee and was a finalist in Adelaide Literary Journal’s short story contest in 2018. He is a former contributor to Huffington Post. 




Disclaimer: The opinions expressed are solely that of the author.

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