Brian is tall. He can see Joseph Smith in my floor and Mormon putting the plates in the Hill Cumorah. We looked at a book tonight called "Look! It's Jesus." Brian is going to do a Mormon book, "Look! It's Church History in Your Vinyl Flooring."
The Book Of Lemuel
Written by Brian Thomas
Little known to the body of the Church, during the summer of
1940, a hitchhiker traveling across the southwest desert made a marvelous
discovery while searching for a place to bed down in a cave. Unable to sleep,
the hitchhiker began picking at a crack in the floor of the cave, and to his
dismay, found nothing less than the lid to a stone box. Upon removing the lid
he discovered a set of aluminum plates, a switchblade knife, and a pair of
fuzzy dice.
In his desperation for food, the hitchhiker sold the plates
to an archaeologist from BYU, whom he met at a Kentucky Fried Chicken in
Ship Rock, New Mexico. The relics were reportedly sold for $100 and a bucket of
the Colonel's extra crispy with extra slaw and mashed potatoes.
Archaeologists have determined that the plates date from
approximately 600 B.C. and contain writings, in reformed Egyptian, which seem
to parallel the narrative account the Book of Mormon. It is thought that the
engravings were written by several men, or one slightly schizophrenic man.
The Church has delayed comment until the plates can be fully
translated.
We are proud to present this premier look at the translated
portions of these plates.
DEAR DIARY,
I, Lemuel, having been born of nagging parents, therefore, I
have been harassed much of my life. Not only by my parents, but also by my
younger brother, andNephi my older brother Laman, with whom I get along best.
There, now maybe my parents will get off my back about keeping a record.
LEM.
DEAR DIARY,
It has finally happened! My father is a lunatic. He has
decided that he "feels" that we should leave the big city and head
into the wilderness. God only knows where. He stated talking about leaving
after he came home from yelling at people to repent. He said they threw rocks at
him. I think one of them must have beaned him on the noggin. He then went and
laid on his bed for about twelve hours straight. I thought he was in a coma.
LEM.
DEAR DIARY,
It looks like dad is serious about this leaving thing. He
says that he had "a dream in which God told him to leave Jerusalem. I
guess it couldn't have had anything to do with the mostaccioli he ate before he
went to bed. I always have dreams like that if I eat pizza before I sleep.
Laman and I are resisting, but it looks like we're going
too. We don't really have to, I guess, but if we don't, how will we eat?
Despair. I have a girlfriend and my own horse. Dad is loaded with gold, which
we can't take into the wilderness because it's too heavy. of course, that
momma's boy Nephi is eager to go. He makes me sick I think I'll hurl my lunch
if I see him again today.
LEM.
DEAR DIARY,
We've been living in a tent for three days now. My neck
hurts from sleeping on the ground. It must show, because Dad and Nephi keep
commenting on my stiffneckedness. There are mosquitoes everywhere, and I have
blisters on my feet. Today Dad said, "o that thou mightest be like unto
this valley, firm and steadfast, and immovable in keeping the commandments of
the Lord… blah, blah, blah." Whatever. Constant nagging. He never lets up,
and Nephi isn't much better. Have to go now.
LEM.
DEAR DIARY,
Hi. I'm Lemuel, and I'm retarded.
DEAR DIARY,
I didn't write that last entry. Laman must have gotten a
hold of the plates. Sometimes he's really a jerk. I wish there was a way to
erase engravings. Maybe a jeweler could fix it. Dad says we have to go back to
town and get some brass plates from Laban. Sure, like Laban's going to say,
"Here, take them. Maybe you want my coat too? You want that I should die
of pneumonia, then you'll be happy." He hit me once when we were younger
because I spit on him. I'm not going.
LEM.
DEAR DIARY,
Just got back from the city. It was alright, but the walk
back was murder. Laman was picked to go talk to Laban. He went over and got
drunk with him. Then he hit on one of his women so Laban pummeled him bloody.
After that, we went back home and got our gold and tried to buy the plates from
Laban, but his gang chased us away and stole our stuff. Laman was furious. I
thought the vein on his forehead would blow up. He got a stick and we beat
Nephi and Sammy with it until we got tired. Finally, Nephi found Laban by a
wall. He was hammered, so Nephi chopped off his head and took the plates.
LEM.
DEAR DIARY,
Now Dad wants us to go back home and get Ishmael and his
family. He probably wants us to marry his daughters—he's got about a million
kids. I guess I don't mind so much about going back to Jerusalem this time; some
of Ish's daughters have nice bods, but nothing upstairs. But hey, what more
could a man want? I'll write more when we get back.
LEM.
DEAR DIARY,
Just got back. Ishmael's daughters are better than I
remembered. But there's one that's butt ugly. She's hanging on Laman like a bad
suit. Nephi's been on our backs the whole time. He keeps telling me to repent.
Sheesh! It's not like I'm Cain or something.
LEM.
DEAR DIARY,
I've had it out here! I'm no camper. I've had diarrhea for
the last two months. I haven't been writing much lately because things have
been really hard. Now the old man's got a ball he stares into for about 8 hours
a day. He says it tells him what to do. I'm going to bed. Mom's pregnant, I
think. Either that, or she has a tumor. I think she's too old to have a baby.
LEM.
DEAR DIARY,
Mom was pregnant. She had a boy—named him Joe. We all have
families now, and most of us have at least one kid. I have two—Frank and Jesse.
They're terrors, but I guess they'll grow out of it. I've got to write more
often, but I always put it off. I don't know why, but my wife is getting really
buff. I'm worried about it because she's almost gotten bigger than me. Laman's
wife is huge. She's stronger than eight cows. But then, I always told Laman he
had an eight cow wife!
LEM.
DEAR DIARY,
Oy veh! Would that there was a good Deli in the wilderness.
I'm craving some bagels and lox, maybe pastrami on rye. Nephi says God told him
to build a boat. He's never even seen a boat; Jerusalem's landlocked. I've
never seen more than a glass of water at one time, let alone an ocean, and
Nephi thinks he's Noah all of a sudden. He can't even shoot a bow. He broke his
last week We went a day without any food because of it, but Nephi probably
called it a fast.
LEM.
DEAR DIARY,
Laman just gave me a tattoo. It really hurts. He rubbed salt
in it before I could stop him. He said it makes it feel better. It hurts like
the dickens. I don't know why I let him do it; he can talk me into just about
anything. I can't believe it's been eight years since we left home, and here we
are on a beach with a ship that probably won't even float. Mom had another
baby—called him Jacob. I can already tell he's going to be nothing but trouble.
LEM.
DEAR DIARY,
I'm really seasick. We've been having a party here on that
ship Nephi made. It works pretty good; we've been floating around for about two
weeks now. We tied Nephi up yesterday because he is so stiff. Laman gat really
mad at him when was drunk. It's been stormy a lot. If it gets much worse we
might sink. Everybody says that God is punishing us with this storm and that we
should untie Nephi. Right! I doubt it. But maybe we'll untie him after Family Home
Evening.
LEM.
(From BYU Student
Review, October 30,1991)
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