St James our Lord

Tonight God was at the gym again, this time in a black tank doing arms.

James is God. There is no other. When he walks his feet are half an inch off the ground.
He is keen and dedicated and he wears it all so well.

He is neat and his hair is perfect. He doesn't pull silly faces when the weights are too heavy. He just merely stares at his eyes in the mirror to make sure that every rep is perfect.

His arms are right for his shoulders which are in the right proportion to his chest and his back and his legs are strong. James kickstarts Boeings. No-one else can.

When James plays rugby his tackles are clean and they are perfect.

When James drinks the protein shake he has mixed in perfect quantities, he doesn't leave a milk moustache on his upper lip. He drinks it all and burps discreetly.

When James says yes he means yes. When James says no he means no. When James says it's done, it is thus. When James moves his hands the Red Sea bows and parts before him.

At study James's notes are all beautiful and they are well laid out. And if James's assignment is due on Monday, he is finished it by Friday. Just so that he can double-check everything.

James never accepts and James never gives anything less than 98.7%

James keeps his emotions in check. James is never too angry and James is always enthused.

James is disciplined and James is strong and James is respectful and James is kind to small animals. James does not hate, he does not covet and he is never bitter.

James is. And everyone knows it.

Women go weak and men are in awe. The gays turn radioactive. James just is.

James is omniscient. Whatever there is to know, James does. Infinitely.
James is omnipotent. When James does, he is all it. Everything.
And James is omnipresent. Wherever James is, is where it is. Forever.

Let us prey.