Moses and the Nine Commandments

Today’s the big day and I couldn’t be more excited—the due date for the nine commandments. I’m heading up to Mount Sinai to get them, and boy, do we need them. We have a temporary settlement to take a break from all the desert wandering—one can only wander for so long—and things are out of control, man, out of fucking control. It’s a free-for-all right now! And I’m like, “Guys, we shouldn’t murder each other!” and everyone’s like, “Where does it say that? Where does it say we shouldn’t murder whoever we want, whenever we want?” and honestly, that stumped me. So a set of commandments, written by God himself, is exactly what we need to put some structure in this place.

I arrive at the top of Mount Sinai after an exhausting climb. Not sure why we had to meet here, I suggested the cafe by my house with the cute tables, but God said no, let’s meet on the top of a fucking mountain, because he wants “the gravitas of the landscape.” He keeps mentioning how we need to set the stages of these things properly because they’re going to be stories re-told for thousands of years and that’s all good and great for the people thousands of years in the future, but what about my calves? Whatever. I didn’t put up a fight because I had a favor to ask and didn’t want to waste his good graces.

“God? I’m here!” I shout, at the top of the mountain.

“I finished my nine commandments,” says God in a deep, booming voice from the clouds. The sky would pulse yellow with his voice. “I worked really hard on these. It was a struggle, but I think I finally nailed them.”

A heavy stone tablet falls from the sky and into my arms. I catch them, but lose balance and almost tumble off the damn mountain. Another reason why we should have just met in the cafe with the cute tables. They also started making these unleavened biscuits that are so close to tolerable, it’s incredible.

“Didn’t want to put them on a scroll, I see.” Now my back’s aching too.

“Nope, no scroll. Massive stone tablet. More gravitas that way.”

Nothing can ever be simple with this guy. “Do you mind if I take a look-see?”

“Sure,” God says nervously. I can tell he was a little worried about my opinion.

I pretend to diligently read the nine commandments. No murder, no lying, no false idols, et cetera, et cetera… that’s all good and fine, but the truth is, I only care about one rule, which I am certain is not on here.

“Hmm,” I say.

“There’s always notes...,” He says, annoyed. “…What is it?”

I continue to peruse, to make it look like I’m really putting thought into it.

“You know, it’s very anxiety-inducing sharing your writing so if you can just come out and say it...”

“These are great commandments, God! It’s a really great start.”

“Oh my God,” says God. “I hate when people say it’s a great start, that always means there’s major revisions!”

“No, no, not at all! I just have a suggestion for another commandment, is all. I think you missed one.”

“Which?”

“No fucking your neighbor’s wife.”

An awkward silence, made even more awkward by the fact that I’m standing on top of a mountain with no one else in sight.

“… Is someone fucking your wife?” asks God.

“No, what makes you say that?” I say nervously. I feel he sees right through me.

“That’s just feels like a very specific commandment—”

“—I think Zipporah’s fucking our asshole neighbor Randy,” I say, as it pours out of me. “I don’t understand it, he’s such a douchebag too, with slicked back hair and always saying things are ‘low-key’ this and ‘high-key’ that or ‘mid,’ just always using this scale thing to describe stuff, but the measurements are inconsistent with no rhyme or reason. It’s so annoying and doesn’t make any sense and then I actually dedicate time out of my day trying to figure out what should get categorized as mid or low-key and I’m more confident than ever he’s making it up as he goes. What Zipporah sees in this guy, I have no idea.”

“I see… But what do you think started all these issues? If you think back, what do you think is the root cause?”

“Well it all started when Zipporah was complaining about how distracted and non-present I was. But how can I not be? The whole Egypt thing was exhausting—you remember, you were there… We pulled so many all-nighters working on those plagues. Getting all those frogs was a logistical nightmare and it took us two weeks of non-stop plague-brainstorming to come up with the locusts. And that was just the beginning. After all that, there was the splitting of the Red Sea, which everyone moved past really quickly, by the way. Do you have any idea how hard it is to split an entire sea? I mean, for you it’s probably easy, but for me it was really hard! It tweaked my back, which still hurts—this heavy tablet isn’t helping either—and now I’m leading all of our people to the promised land. A huge trek. I have so much on my plate and it’s always one thing after another other so obviously I’m going to be distracted and non-present! Like, can you give me a damn break?!” I catch my breath and regain my composure. I got more heated than I expected.

“But now,” I continue, “ironically, I miss the nagging. It meant she still cared. Now I just get silence, which is so much worse.”

“What I’m seeing, Moses, from an outside point of view, is that you two just need to communicate better. Say what’s going on in your minds. Don’t you think you should talk to her about your feelings and what might be going on with her and Randy so you can work it out maturely?”

“No, I’d much rather it be in the commandments so I can shove it in her face. She always beats me in arguments, but with a written-down commandment written by God himself I don’t see how I can lose this one.”

“If that’s what you want… I’m not sure how I’m going to add this commandment, though.”

“What do you mean? Just add it at the bottom.”

“There’s no room, Moses! I perfectly spaced out the nine commandments to make it nice and tidy with no blank space at the bottom. I mean, look at it, it’s beautiful.”

It is beautiful and perfectly spaced.

“You can just add it at the bottom there in the margin,” I point to the gap.

“It will look squished! And then everyone’s going to think a) God had an afterthought commandment, and b) God doesn’t know how to plan the spacing of lines. Both of which make me look weak and I plan on asking a lot of these people in the future.”

“No one’s going to think that, God!” I lie. They’re totally going to think that. The very first thought. “And if they do, I’ll be like, ‘Hey, cut that out, God worked really hard on those commandments.’”

“It’s just sloppy, is all. It’s sloppy. And I really don’t feel like getting a whole other stone…” God sighs a huge reverberating sigh. “Whatever. What do you want it to say, again? ‘No fucking wives?’”

“No, it specifically has to say neighbor’s wife,” I say.

“Why?”

“Because I’m fucking this other guy’s wife a few doors down.”

“Oh my God, Moses…”

“She’s so cute you gotta look at her.”

“One second.”

I wait a beat. I know God’s using his omniscience to take a gander.

“You’re right, she’s adorable, I totally get it now. So you just want the commandment to stop Randy from fucking your wife, but you want to finagle it so you’re still allowed to fuck this other guy’s wife.”

“Exactly, yes.”

“Smart. One second...” The tablet vibrates as I’m holding it. New text magically gets added at the bottom. It looks so tiny and cramped compared to the other commandments, but whatever, this will do. No coveting your neighbor’s wife, the tenth commandment says. Beautifully worded. Love the word “covet,” it feels legit. And it says nothing about coveting wives living non-adjacent to your home. Perfect.

Get fucked, Randy… Although, how am I supposed to get down from here?

“Guys!” I yell down from the top of the mountain. “Everyone! I have 10 commandments from God! Gather ‘round!” I hold up the stone tablet.

“Can you bring it down?” someone asks.

“I’m just gonna read it from up here.”