God seems to be in a bit of a pickle, don't be fickle now; give 'im a hand! He's stranded in a land of sand and rocks! Stoned and banded, flogged and branded by his flock. Abandoned. Stuck deep in a canyon with no man in sight. A frantic fright for any kind in their right mind. But no light escapes this ones sight if he chooses to write his own indictment, cast off the bindings and flash his findings to the brightest light around. Then lo, thar be; at least to me, sweet pious times abound.