One of these days you're going to have a visitation. You're going to be walking down the street and across the street you're going to see God standing over there on the corner motioning to you saying, 'Come here, come to me.'
And you will know it's God, there will be no doubt in your mind -- he has slitty little eyes like Buddha, and he's got a long nice beard and blood on his hands. He's got a big Charlton Heston jaw like Moses, he's stacked like Venus, and he has a great jeweled scimitar like Mohammed. And God will tell you to come to him and sing his praises. And he will promise that if you do, all the muses that ever visited Shakespeare will fly in your ear and out of your mouth like golden pennies.
It's the job of the writer in America to say, 'Fuck you God, fuck you and the Old Testament you rode in on, fuck you.'
The job of the writer is to kiss no ass, no matter how big and holy and white and tempting and powerful.
Anytime anybody says come to me and says, 'Write my advertisement, be my ad manager,' tell him, 'Fuck you.'
The job is always to be exposing God as the crook, as the sleaze ball.