The New Exodus
Modern biblical translation reveals ten plagues to come.
Whether you attended Sunday School or not, you’re likely familiar with the biblical story of the Red Sea: the ancient Egyptians had enslaved the Jews; God punished the pharaoh and his people with ten plagues, ranging from locusts to flies to darkness for days on end, and finally, he parted the Red Sea for the Jews to escape. At least, that’s been the accepted story for thousands of years. Recently, however, historians are beginning to question the validity of the age-old translations. New information suggests that the story was actually a prophecy about Montana—specifically the enslavement of Bozemanites by wealthy out-of-staters. We got our hands on a re-translation, which provides insight into the dark days ahead that God has in store. Here are Bozeman’s ten plagues, straight from the camel’s mouth.
Rivers of Blood
I shall stretch my hand over the waters of Bozeman, over the streams, over the rivers, over the ponds, over all the pools of water that they may be stricken with hideous red algae. The fish will die, the rivers will putrefy, and the wealthy will loathe to fish the waters.
Rattlesnakes
I shall infest all the lands with rattlesnakes. They will come forth from the rocks and the crevices so the trails shall be covered with serpents in abundance, and those lacking thick skin will abandon the paths and flee hence in great caravans.
Ticks
I shall strike the dust of the land and bring forth parasitic mites in great numbers. They will fall from the sky, the trees, and the shrubbery. They will crawl upon thy skin and suck thy blood. They will bring diseases upon thy households and travel upon the backs of thy poodles and chow-chows. The squeamish and weak will relocate to other counties, cities, and states.
Mosquitos
I shall send swarms of tremendous mosquitos unto your streets. They will fill the coffee shops, breed in the yoga studios, and lay eggs in the Co-Op and Whole Foods salad bars. They will drink thy kombuchas and drown in thy lattes. They will block out the sun in great clouds, and the people, unless accustomed to such unpleasantries, will be driven to madness.
Antler Decay
I shall stretch my hand over the elk, the deer, and the moose of thy lands, and they will be plagued by a severe pestilence. Their antlers will fall off and none shall regrow. Those game-seekers born far beyond the boundaries of thy mountainous lands will sell their trophy ranches and return the land to the people of Bozeman.
Mustache Swap
I shall spread handfuls of ashes and let a fine dust fall across the city. It will cause the mustaches to fall from the men and grow on the women. The hearts of all but the strongest climbing, camping, and skiing dirtbags will be hardened, and people of elegant taste and high aesthetic standards will be forced to run from the dust, the hairy lips, and my wrath.
Rain
I shall raise my hand again and cause your snow to turn to rain, and your rain to hail. Big Sky Resort will close, your finely festooned boots will rot, and your pompous head coverings will decay. Every man and woman in need of such things will be driven from town.
Internet Outage
I shall bring down my hand and smite all Wi-Fi across the Gallatin Valley. Screens will go dark, emails will go unanswered, and video calls will be cancelled. Remote workers will be compelled to pack up their laptops and leave for the lands whence they came.
Darkness
I shall stretch my hand toward heaven and usher the Bridger Bowl Cloud over Bozeman for three days and three nights. There will be darkness upon all the land. Servants will be unable to reach the mansions of their overlords. Dishes will accumulate in sinks, beds will go unmade, and driveways will not be dredged of snow. Bereft of support, the affluent will be helpless and thus seek servitude elsewhere.
Curse of the Firstborn
I shall bring one more plague upon Bozeman to drive out the remaining enslavers for eternity: the firstborn of every Bozemanite will be stricken with an ancient admixture of brucellosis and explosive diarrhea. The natives may be spared by smearing bison blood upon their doors, and the dirtbags will be saved by their celibacy—intentional or otherwise. The wealthy will prostrate themselves before me and plead, “Lord, what have we done to deserve such punishments? We shall pack our Land Rovers and leave town if you would be so benevolent as to part the road construction and contractor traffic on Hwy. 191.” Alas, that I am unable to do, but these people will flee, for my heart will be hardened and there will be nothing left for them in Bozeman.
And so it is written. Amen.
