"Don't tell me God works in mysterious ways. There's nothing so mysterious
 about it. He's not working at all. He's playing. Or else He's forgotten all
 about us. That's the kind of God you people talk about- a country bumpkin, a
 clumsy, bungling, brainless, conceited, uncouth hayseed. Good God, how much
 reverance can you have for a Supreme being who finds it necessary to include
 such phenomena as phlegm and tooth decay in His divine system of creation?
 What in the world was going through that warped, evil, scatalogical mind of
 His when He robbed old people of the ability to control their bowel
 movements? Why in the world did He ever create pain....

 Who created the dangers? Oh, He was really being charitable to us when He
 gave us pain! Why couldn't He have used a doorbell instead to notify us, or
 one of His celestial choirs? Or a system of red and blue neon tubes right in
 the middle of each person's forehead?....

 They certainly look beautiful now, writhing in agony or stupified with
 morphine, don't they? What a colossal, immortal blunderer! When you consider
 the opportunity and power He had to really do a job and then look at the
 stupid, ugly little mess He made of it instead, His sheer incompetence is
 almost staggering. It's obvious He never met a payroll. Why,no self-respecting
 businessman would hire a bungler like Him as even a shipping clerk!"
              [Yossarian to Lt. Scheisskopf's wife,
               _Catch-22_, 1961, by Joseph Heller]