Numbers 21, 22

Moses, flying solo, ignores the Canaanite King's warning not to set foot on his land. Traveling on the road through Canaan, the Israelites are attacked and some are taken prisoner. Moses makes a plea to the Lord: "If thou wilt indeed deliver this people into my hand, then I will utterly destroy their cities. Also, some food would be nice."

God ignores the second request but fulfills the first, and the Israelites are victorious. They rename the place Hormah because they couldn't think of anything else.

And now it's Groundhog Day: the Israelites complain about being in the wilderness with no food or water and why did the Lord lead us out of Egypt just to die in the desert? (Shorthand from now on: TICABITWWNFOWAWDTLLUOOEJTDITD?) The Lord, ever creative in the punishment department, sends venomous snakes to bite His people, which you have to admit is a pretty cool and random punishment. Many people die. No surprise there.

After Moses prays, God releases He may have been a little hasty. But instead of simply curing everyone with a snap of--let's call them His "fingers"--God instructs Moses to make a snake out of bronze and stick it on the end of a pole. Anyone still suffering from snake bite-itis can be instantly cured by looking at the bronze snake on the pole. If you think about it, that's really the best fix for the problem.

The Israelites trudge on until they come to the land of the Armortites. They give King Sihon the same deal they gave to the Canaanite king: let us pass through your land and we'll make restitution for anything we eat, drink, or despoil on the way. Sihon refuses, so Mo and Co take over the land and settle there for a while. Drunk on his newfound military might, Moses leads the Israelites in battle against Og, king of Bashun. In Bashun, Moses just kills everyone and settles there for a while.

All of this conquering makes me wonder why the Israelites need to find the Promised Land in the first place if they have no trouble taking over existing cities, cities that no doubt have an abundance of food, water, and shelter. Why not just live in any of these places, especially after killing everyone who lived there. Kind of a waste to kill everyone in a city and just move on, isn't it?

And yet the Israelites move on, to Moab. As you can imagine, the Moabites are shitting their pants at the sight of all those Israelites near their border. Balak, son of the Moab king, Zippor, asks the elders of Moab and Midian to curse the Israelites, ensuring that the Moabites will win in battle. Balak pays the elders for their cursing spells.

The elders meet with someone named Balaam, who, I don't know why, can also talk to the Lord. Why haven’t we heard about him yet? Balaam, who obviously hasn’t been reading along, asks God to curse the Israelites. God, of course, refuses, and instructs Balaam not to return to Moab with the elders. Balak isn't happy about that: he promises Balaam riches if he returns to Moab. Balaam confers again with God, Who finally tells him to return to Moab. "Go with them," God says. "But yet the word which I shall say unto thee, thou shalt do. Be prepared, though. It's about to get weird."

As instructed by God, Balaam saddles up his donkey and departs for Moab. For some schizophrenic reason, God is angry about this, even though Balaam is doing exactly what He told him to do. God sends an angel with a sword to block Balaam's path. Funny thing is, only the donkey can see the angel. Hilarious, right?

The heavenly visage spooks the donkey so bad that it runs into a field. Balaam, thinking the donkey is just being a stubborn donkey, beats the animal with a stick until it returns to the road.

The swordy angel herds the donkey onto a narrow road with walls on both sides. This also freaks out the donkey; it makes a beeline for the wall, inadvertently crushing Balaam's foot. Pissed, Balaam beats the donkey again. The angel then directs the donkey onto an even narrower path that leaves no room to turn left or right. The scaredy donkey lies down in the road. Out of ideas, Balaam beats it again.

The angel, who one would assume could do pretty much anything, gives the donkey the power of speech. That's right: now we have a talking donkey.

"What have I done unto thee, that thou hast smitten me these three times?" the donkey asks. "Besides, you know, the shit I just did."

Balaam, totally unfazed by a talking donkey, answers that he thinks the donkey is mocking him by refusing to obey. "I would that there were a sword in my hand, for now would I kill thee."

The angel, having heard enough, decides to reveal itself. Balaam, horrified, prostrates himself before the apparition. "Wherefore hast thou smitten thine ass three times?" the angel wants to know.

First a talking donkey, now an angel with a sword? Balaam thinks he is having one hell of a flashback. But the angel doesn’t really care about the abused donkey; he’s there to remind Balaam that he must say only what God tells him to say.

"Got it," Balaam says. "Now can you make this donkey be quiet?"

When Balaam arrives in Moab, Balak wants to know why he didn't come sooner. You'd think Balaam wouldn't say anything, considering what the angel just told him, but he answers anyway: "Lo, I am come unto thee: have I now any power to say any thing? The word that God putteth in my mouth, that shall I speak. But you're married, so you know what that's like. Women. Am I right fellas?"

Balak offers Balaam oxen and sheep because he doesn't have any decent gifts to give, and the next days they climb a mountain to view the assembling Israelite army. I’m on the edge of my seat here.