Don't talk to me about Jehovah.
Before that pan dimensional piker appeared on the scene, stealing my worshipers, claiming my territory, I lived an exceptionally beautiful life; really, I can't begin to describe, not in this clumsy mortal language, the eye searingly radiant splendidness of the life which was - gone now because of that monotheistically obsessed bastard.
Mind you, I brought it on myself. "Zeus, why don't you leave off the shape shifting and raping for a bit?" Hera nagged. But when you're a god, you do as you please, yes? Listen, don't try to bullshit me, you would've done the same you self-righteous jackass. In days gone by, I might have assumed the form of a kangaroo and buggered your mom, or yawned and lovingly inserted a lightning bolt at light speed up your left nostril, just because it was a lazy Sunday and left nostrils temporarily annoyed me.
That's just how it was.
Well of course, Yahweh, Jehovah, whateva comes along - with the help of his masochist of a son (and what the hell was that little show? Executed on a cross by the graceless Roman Empire? You know what Herakles would've done if they'd tried to shove him up on one of those things? Try to picture hearts and entrails and severed heads...everywhere...bloody well right) - anyway, Mr. "I Love You" comes along and says, "come unto me, all who are weary and burdened and I shall give you rest
Of course the monkeys soaked it up, ran to their little meetings and huddled together for warmth. And really, who could blame them? After a long stretch of my bullshit (and you can't be fooled about yourself: I admit it, I was a shit head much of the time what with the trans-species sexcapades, the cosmic chess games with mortals as pawns, hurling lightning up asses, killing Cronus and Rhea to pump up the Olympians...and so much more - long rap sheet children), they were done, over and out with the old ways.
And the thing is, for the longest time Yahweh was right up there with the rest of us - thundering from the sky, sending heralds to mete out punishment, making bizarrely arbitrary decisions just because. He was a small time war and harvest god for a minor tribe of goatherds who smelled so bad the fucking goats couldn't take it; we all knew him of course, he'd show up to meetings, drink ambrosia and get fucked up like the rest of us. But he had plans. Hera and Aphrodite saw it, Athena and Ares too. "Watch that one", they said. Even Shiva, who scared the shit out of everyone (and let me tell you, he's a true bad ass, you don't play with Shiva..total nutter) whispered, in that rough way of his, about "keeping an eye out."
But none of us saw his master stroke, the move that slid in under the god-radar: the slimy operator sent his son to become one of them, to eat and sleep with them, even die right in front of them, at their grubby hands (and it was a messy death too, not quietly in bed surrounded by grandchildren and a weeping widow). Not only that, but he sold the whole thing, which really was a carnival side show for immortals, as a sacrifice for mortal benefit. Brilliant. Not one of the old gods could match that move's deftness. One of the greatest marketing maneuvers ever. But there was more: not only was it a sacrifice but a sacrifice to restore a lost harmony between humanity and Yahweh!
A lost order that had no room for the rest of us.
Oh, it took a few centuries but soon enough we were pushed to the margins like a bunch of punks. Look out everybody, the new kid's in charge! Only he wasn't all that new and it was all a slick act.
As if that wasn't bad enough, the fucker gloats, holds his perceptual conquest of practically one half of the world over our heads (still doesn't mess with Shiva though...he's not crazy and the Indian team possesses some serious worshiper mojo even today).
But all that's going to change...and soon.