But if you WERE Job, you’d CERTAINLY know about it.
And you DEFINITELY wouldn’t want to be Job….
Story goes like this.
Job’s living quite a virtuous and pleasant life in whatever bit of the desert he inhabited.
God starts skiting to Satan about what a great bloke Job is and aforementioned satan says “Well, the only reason he’s your faithful follower is because you’re mentoring him. Take away his deflector shield and see how faithful he is when I’ve finished fucking him over”
“Your….er…you’re on” says god (which does make you question the myth of the benevolent superior being, but anyway…)and off goes the devil.
In no time, Job has been royally screwed – wife’s skedaddled with a traveling salesmen, the daughters are single mother drug addicts on the dole, house got repossessed, company’s in Chapter 11 and he needs a triple bypass.
Job’s sitting there, surrounded by the car wreck of his former life and gets rapidly into woe-is-me, must-be-all-my-fault mode at which god gets a smirk on his face and says to the devil “See, he’s not blaming me for all this – I’ll see him right”
Which he did by pointing him in the vague direction of local District Health Board who put him on the 3 year waiting list for cardiac surgery.
Here endeth the lesson according to YMBFA.
Which is that grammar and correct spelling really DO matter.