Live Satellite News via Twitter screenshot

Before a Wednesday Cabinet meeting, the Grinch Who Stole the Middle Class’s Christmas informed the members of the press that they should stay for a few minutes to join Snow White Supremacist and the Seven Demons in prayer. Led by the successful surgeon, failed dick-stabber, and Secretary of Housing and Urban Development Ben Carson, the brief invocation was basically a shoutout to God for allowing this den of thieves to hand over America’s bag to the wealthy.

“Our kind Father in heaven, we are so thankful for the opportunities and the freedom that you’ve granted us in this country,” Carson began. “We thank you for a president and Cabinet members who are courageous, who are willing to face the winds of controversy, who are willing to provide a better future for those who come behind us.”

He continued:

We’re thankful for the unity in Congress that has presented an opportunity for our economy to expand so that we can fight the corrosive debt that has been destroying our future. And we hope that that unity will spread even beyond party lines so that people will recognize that we have a nation worth saving. And recognize that nations divided against themselves cannot stand.

In this time of discord, distrust and dishonesty, we ask that you will give us a spirit of gratitude, compassion and common sense. And give us the wisdom to be able to guide this great nation in the future we ask in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.


Almost immediately after this meeting, The Root received an exclusive email from someone purporting to be God, responding to Carson’s supplications. Because of his status as the unseen knower of all things, we could not confirm that the email was written by God himself, but our sources have independently verified the possibility of the message’s authenticity by explaining, “Well ... he does move in mysterious ways.”

We decided to print the correspondence in full, without commentary:

My son,

It is with great pleasure that I hear from you. I know you think I had stopped responding to your prayers, but trust me, I have always been around. It’s just that ... how should I put this? It’s just that you call so much!

I know they say I never sleep or slumber, but sometimes I’m just chilling, watching the game, or watching Biggie, Pac and Langston Hughes freestyle in a cipher (Langston really got into hip-hop after he moved here). I’d rather you contact me with important things, not stuff like asking me to help you choose which kind of chicken to pick up on your way to the White House (original recipe, by the way; Trump’s dentures can’t handle the extra crispy).

Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about your prayer this morning.

Look, bruh, you know I don’t mess with Donald Trump like that. I don’t even kick it with conservatives that much. There’s like ... three whole Republicans up here: Martin Luther King Jr., Frederick Douglass and guy who invented Lawry’s Seasoned Salt (on the recommendation of the cafeteria staff).

When I gave you those “gifted hands” before you were born, had I known that you would use them to vote for a racist, misogynist pig who was down with Satan, I probably would’ve given them to someone else. Now you’re in front of white people calling my name, thanking me for helping you take money and health care from poor people?

Remember that line in Proverbs when I said, “Whoever oppresses the poor shows contempt for their Maker but whoever is kind to the needy honors God”? (I think it was in Proverbs. I don’t have my Bible in front of me and it was a long time ago. Plus, I’ve said a lot of things. OK ... Peter says it was Proverbs 14:31.)

Are you trying to start beef with me, Ben?

Don’t think I’m some pushover like Hillary Clinton or Jeb Bush. I can handle mine. I am the alpha and omega. The beginning and the end. Prince of Peace. Lord of Lords. King Kong ain’t got nothing on me!

Keep my name out of your mouth unless you’re ready to taste my terrible swift sword! Remember what I did to Lot’s wife? Do you want to come home to a pillar of salt? I ain’t a killer, but don’t push me! (Actually, strike that last sentence.)

Look, I have no problem with you paying homage because this whole Trump administration is kind of my fault. Me, Rosa Parks, Muhammad Ali and Harriet Tubman were playing spades during the 2016 election. Ali told me I should check on how things were going, but—in my defense—I had a really good hand. I had no idea the devil had the technology to simultaneously possess 53 percent of white women (he’s working with Steve Jobs). My bad.

But as far as I’m concerned, keep my name out of your mouth. If you want to pray to somebody, pray to your real lord and savior: Vladimir Putin. The next time I hear you say my name, I have a severe, itchy anal polyp with your name on it. And it’s not benign, either! I don’t do benign, Ben! I’m always on 10! (Get it? That was a good one.)

In conclusion, as far as it relates to taxes, legislation or anything having to do with that collection of demonic do-boys for the devil that you call a “Cabinet,” you will be well-served to remember the separation of church and state before I separate your ass from the state of the living.

Screw the Trump administration as a staff, as a record label and as a whole damn crew!

Thus sayeth the Lord.