Ganduri
(English) God – a conversation
(English)
God came to me last night in a dream. I said: “Hey, God, how’s it going?” He laughed. He has a simply divine laughter. And then He spake to me, and he spake thusly:
“It’s going good, Laur, My child. Not great, mind you, but it cannot be helped for the time being.”
“What can I do for you, Oh God?” I asked.
At this, He laughed even harder. His laugh is contagious, like watching April lambs cavorting in new grass. Maybe that’s why they go on and on about The Lamb of God.
“That’s a funny question to ask, My child”, He said. “Usually people just tell Me what I can do for them.”
“Oh, you’ve been good to me, Oh God, I have no complaints. Or maybe I do, but I’d like to try and fix them myself first, if You don’t mind. And with a little help, of course”.
God’s really full of mirth these days.
“First of all, stop with that «spaketh» nonsense,” He said. “And the capitalization. It’s distracting me, and it is a bit pretentious. I don’t need capitals to remind people of who I am.”
I must admit, he has a point there.
“Of course I do, I am God after all.” She smiled at me. “Now, don’t be flustered. How would you like to work for me? At least for a little while? There’s a prophet position coming up, and I think you might be a really good fit for the role.”
“Prophet, Oh God?”
“Oh yes. It’s no big deal, really. Just tell the world what I’m about to tell you. Get some tablets of stone and a chisel and take this down.”
“How about I post it on the Internet, Oh God?”
“That could work too, I guess. Now write this down.”
“I am.”
“Don’t interrupt now, prophet of mine. Where was I? Oh yes. Paragraph. Don’t write that down, will you?”
Message from God
Hello World! It’s been a while since you last heard from me, and you’ve grown quite a bit in the while. You’re no longer small children who need to be spoon-fed and led by the hand, so I’ll say it to you straight. Pay attention.
- I am one God. You gave me so many nicknames over the years you tend to forget this small fact. I don’t care if you’re calling me Allah, Yahveh, Lord, Higher Power or Immutable Natural Law. If you all understand this, you’ll be better for it in the long run. Trust me. I am your God.
- Regardless of the name you chose for me, don’t take my name in vain! And I don’t necessarily mean swearing. I’m talking about killing people in my name, hurting them in my name, hiding your petty ambitions and awful nature behind my name! I’m referring to just a few of you, praise be to me. You think that by killing in my name you get rewards in the afterlife? Rest assured, we’ll have a word about that when you get there.
- Be decent towards one another. I would have said “be good”, but that may be pushing it a bit. Just be decent, it’s good enough for me. Go ahead and be good if you want to. Just don’t be jerks, that’s what I want to say.
- I have no beef with religion. If you want to worship me, fine – I like being worshiped. One little request though: don’t assume you know me and my will just because you’re religious. See 1, 2 and 3.
- I don’t require people to believe in me; I am not Tinkerbell. I will be here regardless. As a matter of fact, atheists that are good, decent people just because that’s how they are and not because of some church-induced fear of everlasting punishment are in for a nice surprise. Don’t tell them I said so though. They won’t believe it anyway.
- Let it be known that I am not, nor have I ever been, against science and knowledge. By all means, learn about this beautiful universe. I take pride in my work.1
- What I speak, everyone can hear. Few choose to listen. Do listen for my voice every once in a while.
- Which reminds me. To those of you who write down what I say: please remember, you’re only writing down with your mind a memory of an interpretation of a voice that spoke to your soul. Please do not claim it is the absolute truth. You don’t even have words in your languages for some of the things that I say. Maybe someday you will. Readers, beware.2
- I have many, many, many sons and daughters. You Earthlings are all my family, and I love you just as much as I love all my other creations. I sure hope one day you get to meet each other. Keep investing in NASA, you got a good thing going there.
- There has to be ten of them, right? Thanks, Moses. Anyway. As long as you get what I’ve said in the previous nine, you’ll do fine. For the rest, do what you will. Take responsibility for your actions. Oh, and “Thou shalt not kill.” I’m still rather privy to that one.
I guess this is it, world. Enjoy your life, don’t spoil it. I will be seeing you all later.
Love,
God
- “Plus, some of your physics theories really make me laugh”, he said. “Don’t write that down.” “Not even as a footnote?” “Ok, fine.” [↩]
- “Besides, what do you think would happen if I would give you the absolute truth on a platter? That would kinda spoil everything, right? Searching for it is oh so much more fun!” [↩]
(English) Violence
(English)
The violence we do – we’re doing it to ourselves first and foremost. The anger. The rage. The clenched fist. The hissed word, spat out through our teeth, the cynical smile, the piercing sarcasm. The derisive laugh.
Aye, it feels good when we say it. When we’re standing there, blood coursing through our veins, high on adrenalin and spite. We won. I won. You lost – the argument, the fight, the competition – you bowed your head and just gave up. You loser. My anger reigned supreme.
It’s only after we cool down that our conscience kicks in. Regrets that come too late, after all that’s been said and all that’s been done. Some of us – the lucky ones – bow their head in shame, their lesson learned, and suffer through the consequences of their anger. Others are not that lucky.
It’s easy, giving in to a sense of righteousness. A post facto justification of all the things we did. “It wasn’t really that bad”, we say. “The other had it coming anyway”, we say. And pieces of our heart wash away – our good, kind heart, the one our mothers saw in us when we were little – and they’re replaced with cold, dead stone. A little bit more callous every day. A little bit more uncaring. So easy, walking down that road. Becoming just a hollow shell, loose pebbles rattling in from time to time.
I only wish my 16 year old self would not despise the man I have become.
(English) The winning streak
(English)
There are a few things as hilariously funny as a narrowly averted disaster. There’s the laughter itself – and then there’s the release of tension, the slight hysterics, the golden feeling that yes, your guardian angel sneaked one past the karmic gods. Way to flip good ol’ fate the bird there, buddy!
No matter what you do afterwards, be it work or leisure, there’s always that sweet taste in your mouth. You can’t fail. You lead a charmed life. Once more for the home team! Properly managed, that feeling could carry you onwards like a wave, reinforced with each new success, rolling over small failures – just flukes, really, this here is my day, sonny. It feels so good it’s addictive, and I bet many a gambler are doing it just for that total glow they get when everything feels just right and, like Mel Gibson in Maverick, you don’t need to look at that last card. You know it’s the ace of spades.
The funny part? We narrowly avoid thousands of disasters daily. The misstep you recovered from and promptly forgot about. The tailgater that hit the brakes just before you did. The revolving door that missed your hand with a fraction of an inch to spare. The freshly infected H1N1 carrier that remembered to put his hand over his mouth when he sneezed next to you. But none of them count, because we notice none of them.
Sometimes I wonder if luck has anything at all to do with it. What if luck is genetic, is something we got from ancestors with a history of being in the right place at the right time for some of the time, and in the wrong place at the right time for the rest of the time? What if that fabled human intuition – of which women are supposed to have loads – is a genetic characteristic reinforced by the natural selection of the luckiest bastards of the bunch?
That might explain why we laugh at the narrow escape. It’s nice to know our luck still holds.
Alter-ego
BookList
The Scar by China Mieville
Perdido Street Station by China Mieville
A Working of Stars... by Debra Doyle, James D. Macdonald
The Stars Asunder by Debra Doyle, James D. Macdonald
Overtime: A Tor.Com Original by Charles Stross


