Saturday, March 24, 2007

Pete Finnerty asked:

Could God create a rock so big that even he, the almighty could not even lift it?

posted by hughevans at 11:36 AM

1 Comments:

Blogger hughevans said...

Dearest everybody, it has been a gruelling six months. And you'll soon see why. I can only apologise for my lack of postings. I assure you that all of your questions have been noted and are under serious investigation, and I thank you for your patience in waiting for me to process them. As regular readers will know, however, I am not one to provide half-baked responses to questions. Indeed I preheat the oven, bake the reponse fully, and add some garnishing to show how much I care.

And this is what I have been doing for the dear Mr Pete Finnerty who posed me this mind-melting question some months ago...

Pete, welcome to Hugh Evans Investigates. You've really entered with a bang. This has possibly been my toughest test yet.


Your question again: "Could God create a rock so big that even he, the almighty could not even lift it?"

Firstly to define 'rock'. It's always important to know exactly what we are talking about:

1. Relatively hard, naturally formed mineral or petrified matter; stone.
2.
1. A relatively small piece or fragment of such material.
2. A relatively large body of such material, as a cliff or peak.
3. A naturally formed aggregate of mineral matter constituting a significant part of the earth's crust.
4. One that is similar to or suggestive of a mass of stone in stability, firmness, or dependability: The family has been his rock during this difficult time.
5. rocks Slang. Money.
6. Slang. A large gem, especially a diamond.
7. Slang. Crack cocaine.
8.
1. A varicolored stick candy.
2. Rock candy.
(Thanks to the lovely people at www.Answers.com for this definition).

I have inferred from Pete's referrence to 'lifting' that the definitions most relevant are:


1. Relatively hard, naturally formed mineral or petrified matter; stone.
2.
1. A relatively small piece or fragment of such material.
2. A relatively large body of such material, as a cliff or peak.
6. Slang. A large gem, especially a diamond.
7. Slang. Crack cocaine.
8.
1. A varicolored stick candy.
2. Rock candy.

I have further inferred that as this is somewhat of a puzzle that I have been set, I have decided the clue is in the word 'crack'- as in this is a tough riddle to 'crack'. So this is the definition I chose as most relevant to investigate:

7. Slang. Crack cocaine.

Now at this stage, my beloved readers, I have to confess that I might have looked into this subject a little too closely. Moreover, 5 of the 6 months I have been away, and the £36,000 debt I have run up, could quite closely be linked to this part of the investigation. Kids - drugs are bad - don't touch them. Fortunately the cold turkey at Christmas saw me through the worst of it.

I digress...

Approximately one month ago, following the period of my life that I would prefer not to discuss, I re-assessed the topic of the investigation I was in the process of carrying out. And it looked a little like this:

Could God create a 'blast' of crack cocaine so big that even he would get high on it?

The only way to find this out? It was time to ask the big man Himself. I got me to Church...

Of course, there was no way that any ordinary church would be suitable for asking the Lord about his drug habits. So I travelled to London, and the might St Paul's Cathedral. Quite a spectacle incidentally... I knew I had to build up some trust with Him, so I began what would become a three week intensive praying schedule. My aim was to have God eating out of the palm of my hand. The first week I was really only looking for small gains. Here are some of the things I managed to get God to do:

1) Slam the church door with no-one being near it
2) Make a small child cry for no apparent reason
3) Make one of the priests cough

Obviously these mini-miracles weren't instantaneous, but they were amongst the 250 things I prayed for, and over the course of a week, the Almighty pulled them out of the bag for me. My jaw was literally touching the floor when each one happened (after reviewing my list of requests to ensure I had actually made those requests).

The second week I stepped up proceedings a little. These were the tasks I set that God managed to acheive for me:

1) A day of all seasons. There was sunshine first thing in the morning, and throughout the day, there was thunder and lighting, snow, hail, sleet, rain, and concluded with some blazing hot sunshine. Nice touch with the warm finish I thought.
2) The same priest who coughed walked into a sheet of glass that two walkmen were carrying outside the catherdral. I'd always wanted to see it happen in real life, and I wasn't disappointed when it happened.
3) The ravens at the Tower of London migrated. Last time I checked, the Tower was still standing. I knew it.

So clearly, by this point I had God tightly pressed under my thumb. I could get him to do anything. My third week I had to be sure so I got him to do the following incredible things:

1) Make the coughing priest invisible. I don't know why I did this one as it meant that I kept bumping into him.
2) For twenty whole minutes, Scunthorpe disappeared from every map ever printed. It was as if it never existed.
3) For one day, the Thames had surf. I'm more of a boogie-border myself, but I had fun none-the-less.

And now for the ultimate question. I felt nervous doing it - surely no-one in the history of praying had ever asked God, the Creator of the Universe,
if he was able to make a rock of crack cocaine big enough to get Him high. Most would be struck down into the pits of hell for their insolence. But I did it - I asked the great man straight out:

"God - how many eight-balls does it take to make you high?"
(For those of you who don't know, crack cocaine is sold either by weight in ounces, referred to by terms such as "eight-ball" (one-eighth of an ounce) or "quarter" and "half" respectively).


At first there was silence. Nothing, for a good twenty minutes. But I knew God well - this break in dialogue meant that he was thinking. Hard. I was nervous. I was worried I would never make it back alive to recount this tale to the avid readers of Hugh Evans Investigates. But I have.

The ground began to rumble beneath my feet. Swarms of worshippers fleed St. Pauls, but I stood firm. This was it. Judgement Day. The floor started to crack open, but still I knelt there, hands clenched together as if to show my resolve. I had to see this one out. I owed it to Pete who was kind enough to set me this challenge. All of a sudden, the back of the Cathedral split into two, and an enormous white 'rock' of crack cocaine appeared - it must have been the size of Uluru. The rumbling noises ended, there was calm. Just me and this awesome chemical.

So there it was. And to this day still remains. If ever you are in London, Pete, I suggest popping in to St. Paul's to see what your curiosity has created.

All the best.

Hugh Evans PI

11:38 AM  

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