(Part 2 of a 3 part series. Read Part 1 here.)
The Council is happy to see me in Universal Court but I’m sad I did not get the chance to say goodbye to my family and friends. I figure once I were God, though, I could make it up to them with some expensive cars. After all, that’s what my wife went in for after she dumped me.
The trial itself is a non-event. We wait and wait for God, but as the Council of Answers predicted, She never shows up. As they also predicted, I win the case by default, thus awarded the right to rule the entire universe. Sure, its a hollow victory, but I’ll take it. My new appointment makes the speckled pinpoints of white plasma that are the Council of Answers beam with satisfaction.
The little buggers are eager to get me back to my office which they assured me is only a few minutes away. As we leave the courthouse, I notice its shaped like a skyscraper-tall pear to which I ask a Councilman (?), “Um, why is the Universal Courthouse shaped like a pear?”
“Why do you think, God?” an androgynous voice comes back.
“To remind us that the laws of the universe are imperfect?” I answer.
“Whatever you say. The word of God is infallible. Time to change the books, lads!” A few Council members grumble but not overly so since their jobs are now secure.
We approach a remarkably tall, green and glossy glass building that I can’t help but noticed may be shaped like a stalk of asparagus. I say ‘may’ because the building is so tall I cannot not see the top.
“Let me guess, we’re on the top floor and there’s no elevator,” I gripe.
A different Council member comes forward. “Actually, we’re on the 82nd floor, sir. It is sufficiently high enough for you to see everything you need to see from there. But really, it’s all perception. With you brain being only slightly evolved, we’re easing you into your new surroundings. As you gain experience here, your perceptions will perceive more of the true reality that surrounds you.”
“Elliot,” I feel like calling it, “Am I perceiving your true reality right now?”
“No, sir. We, the Coun…”
“Stop!” I order. “No more of this ‘We, the Council of Answers’ nonsense you did back in Part One. It’s too time consuming. Henceforth you are Elliot and the rest of the Council are the ‘CA.’ Now let’s get some work done.”
“Yes, sir,” Elliot obeys solemnly.
“By the way, Elliot, what exactly do we do?”
When the elevator door opens on the 82nd floor (I had to ‘make’ an elevator), I feel a wave of heat seer my face, as if I’d walked into a blast furnace. I wave my hand and the temperature cools to a sensible 75 degrees. “Who the hell exists at this temperature?” I demand to know.
“You’d be surprised,” Elliot answers.
The office is otherwise bleak and dreary; the fake wood paneling so old it has petrified. So unimaginative, no wonder humans only come in two genders.
“Elliot, why don’t you and the boys redecorate the office. Go crazy. Just liven this place up a little bit.”
Elliot stops in its tracks (if that phrase applies to a blinkling of light. “Don’t tease us, your majesty. We’ve been oppressed for 100 billion years.”
“I’m not kidding,” I assure Elliot. “Do you guys even have health care?”
God’s office is the worst bit of the office; long, narrow and olive drab with a single square window. But as I look out the window, I can indeed see a great deal. I mean, I can see the Gwandagoobs all the way in the Flablagemagob sector. It’s pretty neat, which is more than I can say for God’s desk. It’s more like a drafting table with a smattering of disorganized papers.
I flip through them. Well, that figures; the dinosaurs were God’s pet project, not humans. Looking at all the drawings it seems that God really liked dinosaurs. In fact, she was going to make a larger, entirely new planet for them but a misplaced comet wiped them all out. These other schematics show a new comet headed towards Earth, presumably so God could wipe the slate clean and start over again. Oh well. You take the day off and next thing you know, you’re fired. I nudge the comet a few million miles off in another direction.
Time to put my feet up on the desk as I kick back in an imaginary chair. Except here comes Elliot. I know its got something to say but I strike first. “Elliot, what’s on the other floors?”
“Other universes, God.” Elliot doesn’t have eyes, but I imagine him rolling them at me. “Being that there are infinite possibilities, there are multiple universe in which all those possibilities play out. In some universes you’ve been God for a while. In others you don’t exist at all. Interestingly, there is a top floor, metaphysically speaking. But neither of us will ever know what goes on at that level.”
“Are you tellin’ me that even though I’m freakin’ God, I ain’t da ultimate reality?” I say in my best Mafioso.
“No, sir.” Elliot seems happy to say that. “You have mail, God!”
I scan my thoughts. Yes, there is lots of mail, mostly from Earth. Wow, people are needy. “Elliot, are other beings in the universe doing as well as humans?”
Elliot laughs, loudly. “You must be joking, sir. By the looks of the memories we’ve acquired from you, humans would be the laughing stock of the universe.”
I tap an imaginary pen on the desk. “Effectively immediately, the universe is on Earth time. I’m spending the rest of the day getting these nutters back on track. I’m putting you in charge of everything else until I’m done.” Elliot is unresponsive. “Yeah, yes, I’ll give you a raise. Now beat it.”
“Huzzah!” Elliot whoops as it makes and arc and leaves my office. I can hear Elliot barking orders before its even ten feet from my door.
Time to get this mail answered. How much aspirin is answering human prayers going to take?
“Dear God, I’ve recently learned that there is no Santa Claus. What’s next, no God?” – Virginia
“Dear Virginia, thank you for your important question. Before I begin, it should be noted that your question is more of a non-question until the definition of God is settled upon first. And in what sense are you asking if God exists? It’s one thing to imagine God as someone with human qualities and another to describe God as something that can’t be described. First, if God were conceptualized as being the perfect person, well, that we almost actually imagine. But now imagine aliens come to Earth and they are just like this perfect person but are even better at everything that that perfect person you knew. Does that make them gods? Maybe, but imagine that after these aliens come, other aliens come who are even better than them! Hopefully you see where this is going. Second, if you can’t describe God, then God might as well not exist. That is, it’s moot to ponder God’s existences without some sort of concept in mind. You might as well say ‘anti-zeroes exist’ because you’d be saying the same thing. Moreover, if you’re simply going to conceptualize God as something that cannot be comprehended, the point is again moot as you’d never know anything about God, including God’s existence. On both fronts, the existence of God seems unlikely or perhaps irrelevant. It is unlikely that most people really want to know if God exists because if they did know, it sure would undermine their particular beliefs. (Believe me, I was surprised when I found out God exists, too. Or do I?) What if it turned out God exists but in a manner no one had thought of yet? The frail human ego couldn’t take it. And, some dishonest tool would come along and say they knew it all along and lead people astray, not that they aren’t already astray…I digress. Whether God exists or not isn’t really important because believe me, none of you have it right and there are plenty of people being good despite their mistaken beliefs. So just be a good person for its own sake. Be a local god. You have my permission. Sincerely, God.”
(To be continued)
All Rights Reserved (C) September 2016 John J Vinacci