Noah Had Questions
Except when you stop reading it as a Sunday school story and start thinking about it like an actual transportation and logistics problem, things get interesting.
We all know the story.
God decides humanity has screwed things up badly enough that He is going to flood the world. Noah gets the warning, builds a gigantic boat, gathers his family, loads up the animals, waits out the rain, and eventually everybody gets off the boat and starts over.
Simple enough.
Except when you stop reading it as a Sunday school story and start thinking about it like an actual transportation and logistics problem, things get interesting.
Our Story Begins in the Desert
God: Hey Noah, get out here. I have a job for you.
Noah: Who? Who is calling? Goddammit, can’t I get a moment of quiet time with Mrs. Noah?
God: It is your boss. You remember me? God. I’m calling, you know, the Creator of everything.
Noah: Oh, Jesus. Yeah. What’s up? What can I do for you now?
God: Well, I’m a bit tired of humanity, and I’m going to kill everybody so we can start fresh.
Noah: Kill everybody? Doesn’t that go against one of those commandments? Thou shalt not kill. And what about Adam? He put up with a lot from Eve just to get the ball rolling. You know, he did not even like apples.
God: Don’t start with me. I command you.
Noah: Well, of course you do. So what is it this time? What’s the new plan?
God: I will flood the world. All will die, and I need you to build a boat and collect two of everything. It will all be over in 40 days, and we will start over.
Noah: So I have to build a boat with what lumber? We’re in a desert. Collect two of everything and then sail around for 40 days, find dry land, and I have to convince Mrs. Noah to give it up daily so we can populate the world.
Seems like a lot of work.
Can’t we just scare a few people? Maybe turn a few to salt?
God: Listen, Noah. If I gave you all the answers and did everything for you, how could we scare and confuse everybody with the mysteries of life? salt? really? that will cause high blood pressure.
Noah: Okay, already. How much time do I have? This is going to be a big boat, and I want naming rights. Something like Guiding Light Tours.
God: Fine. You can name it. And the rain starts in seven days.
Noah: Seven days? To build a boat and round up all the animals?
God: Well, Mrs. Noah is looking a bit chubby. Get her working too. And listen, these are just stories. Nobody can ever prove this stuff, but it will create some hysterical logical arguments for thousands of years.
Noah: Where will I get polar bears? What about dinosaurs? And do you have any idea how many rabbits we’re going to have in 40 days? I mean, there is a reason they say, “They went at it like rabbits.”
God: Listen, can you just go along with the plan? Nobody is going to do serious follow-up on this. That’s why I’m the mystery.
Noah: I thought the Earth was flat. Won’t the water just dribble off the sides?
God: The Earth isn’t flat. I’m just leaving that as a talking point. Some smart guy will figure that out eventually.
Noah: Then why leave so many things unexplained?
God: Because people love arguing about things they don’t understand.
Noah: You planned that?
God: Of course. I’m God. I’m pretty good at planning ahead. At least that is what they think. It is really just random crap.
God: Hey Noah, just checking in to see how it’s going.
Noah: You know that’s BS. You can see everything. You know what I’m doing and how far along we are.
God: Well, that whole “I see and know everything” thing is mostly for the image. I actually have to ask. I can’t see everything. People just think I can. And I’m old. I forget things too.
Noah: Jesus, you just can’t make this stuff up. Or I guess that’s what we’re doing.
Well, the animals are in the pens. Can we take Steve?
I found him harassing the goats while we were getting the lumber, and honestly, I can use the help. He’s been shoveling the crap out of the cages.
God: Oh, I banished that guy for coveting Abimelech’s wife. He’s moved on to goats now? Good for him. Sure, he can go. Let me see if I can rustle up a real girl for him. They can help with the repopulation.
Noah: On another note, God, are we just going to float around? We can’t exactly row this thing, but maybe a sail will help. We have some old shepherd tunics we could stitch together.
God: You decide. And don’t forget the food. You will get hungry.
Noah: What about water? Eight people and all these animals are going to need a lot of drinking water.
God: It will rain.
Noah: Yeah, but I don’t think drinking flood water is going to work out too well.
God: Details, Noah. You’re getting distracted.
Noah: I’m also thinking about the lions.
God: What about them?
Noah: They’re going to be hungry.
God: Feed them.
Noah: With what?
God: Figure it out. You’re the logistics guy.
Noah: I don’t remember applying for that job.
God: You didn’t.
Noah: And who is keeping track of all these animals? I mean, somebody has to know if we actually have two of everything.
God: Just count them.
Noah: Count them? Do you know how many animals are in here?
God: No.
Noah: Then how am I supposed to know if I have the right ones?
God: Noah, you’re making this much more complicated than it needs to be.
Noah: I’m thinking a clipboard might help.
God: Fine. Make a clipboard.
Noah: And what about the poop?
God: What about it?
Noah: We have elephants, cows, horses, rhinoceroses, hippos, giraffes, and everything else. That’s going to be a lot of poop.
God: You’re right.
Noah: So where does it go?
God: Figure it out.
Noah: You’re really good at delegating.
God: That’s why I’m God.
Noah: I think I just felt a drop.
God: Oh, crap. It’s starting a bit early.
This El Niño or El Niña thing is a bitch. And climate change is really going to mess things up in a few thousand years.
Noah: El Niño or El Niña?
God: Yeah. I named it after a sexy Bedouin woman. Boy, she could move her hips.
Noah: I never took you for a sexy God type of guy.
God: Hey, you can’t go this long without some action.
Noah: Okay, we will set sail in the morning. I have to go get two more antelope. By mistake, we put them next to the lions and, well, they were tasty. But the lions are fed now.
God: It happens.
Noah: We’re also up to a cage full of rabbits. I think we’ll just make that our food supply, along with those crazy chickens laying eggs every day.
God: I like eggs.
Noah: Okay, Mrs. Noah is smashing a bottle of wine on the boat. We’re all locked in, and it’s raining like a bitch, or as they say, cats and dogs. We should be floating in a few hours.
God: Happy sailing. I’ll check back in 40 days.
Noah: That’s it? You’re not going to be a guide? You started this shit show. People are drowning, and you’re off until later?
God: That’s one of the mysteries of life.
Noah: At least give me some help navigating.
God: Archimedes was jockeying for the job, but he can’t swim.
Noah: Archimedes? He’s not even born yet.
God: I know. I’m God. I can see the future. Apparently, I just can’t remember where I put the boat plans.
Noah: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Okay. See you in 40 days.
Captain’s Log: Noah
Day 1: Everything is going surprisingly well.
Day 3: Noah discovers the lions have escaped.
Day 7: Everyone is tired of rabbits.
Day 12: Mrs. Noah has had enough of the chickens.
Day 18: Someone asks why the penguins are in the desert in the first place.
Day 25: Noah realizes there is no bathroom plan.
Day 31: The elephants are becoming a problem.
Day 39: Everyone is questioning whether God actually knows what he’s doing.
And then God finally shows up on Day 40 like nothing happened.
God: Hey Noah, how’d it go?
Noah: Well, we struck land, and all the animals are out. Looks pretty nice. The beach is great. We’re going nude after all. We need to get clean.
Forty days on a boat and we smell like crap.
God: Well, you’re in Florida. The beaches are great. And I see Steve under that palm tree. You can tell him we have a girl for him and leave the goats alone. I mean that is why we brought her along, for him.
Noah: Well, he prefers the goat for some reason. Chased it all over the cage.
God: You can take the goat herder out of the desert…
Lost my train of thought.
Noah: Steve has an odd fascination with goats.
God: I noticed. I also noticed Mrs. Noah is looking good. Really trimmed down.
Noah: Yeah, we might start a marketing campaign and an infomercial on the egg and rabbit diet.
God: Does it work?
Noah: Drops the pounds fast.
God: Good. Glad it worked out.
As the water recedes a little more and reveals additional land, God hands Noah a list.
God: I have a list of the animals you brought. I’ll need you to take the pairs and move them to different parts of the new world.
Noah: What? How am I going to get them there?
God: Build a boat, smaller of course. You’re good at it now.
Noah: Nobody is going to believe a polar bear in Florida.
God: I think you’re wrong. I bet they will believe anything in Florida.
Noah: I think you might be right.
God: Don’t get smart. Move the animals around. After all, I have a reputation for being flawless.
Noah looks around at the animals, the food, the supplies, and the mess left behind after forty days on the Ark.
Noah: Wait a minute. Who’s going to keep track of all these animals?
God: You have the list.
Noah: And who’s going to move them?
God: You are. We just covered this.
Noah: And what about all the food, tools, clothing, containers, and everything else we brought?
God: You brought all that?
Noah: I had to. You never gave me a packing list.
God: Well, you’re good at logistics.
Noah: I think I’m beginning to hate that phrase.
Noah looks toward the Ark.
There are animals everywhere, food everywhere, and enough poop to require its own department.
Noah: You know, maybe next time we should have a better plan.
God: That’s what I’m doing now.
Noah: You’re making a plan?
God: No. I’m making a mystery.
Maybe the real miracle wasn’t that Noah built the Ark or survived the flood. Maybe it was that after forty days of animals, food, poop, rabbits, lions, goats, and one very questionable logistics plan, Noah still had the patience to listen to God.
And somehow, after all of it, Noah and Mrs. Noah were still married. The goat seems happy too.
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