Wednesday, May 15, 2013

This is a letter from God to Man. Long time, no see.

What would a suicide letter from God look like?

Would it be a simple, old-school carved tablet placed high on a mountain, thick with emotion and recriminations?  "Look what you made me do!" it might read.  "Don't judge me."

Or perhaps something similar but less recriminating, placed considerately on a far moon, maybe Titan or Europa, or maybe even orbiting a nearby star; a carefully selected remote location that would keep the truth of a Creator's demise from us until we had demonstrated the mental development to be able to handle it?

Maybe it would be a great flood, perhaps some other form of world-, galactic- or universe-wide destruction - a table-flipping, "fuck-this-shit-I'm-outta-here" great disengaging tantrum.

Or maybe God would just go quiet, and things would just go on as ever, and God would just float there. Cold, dark matter.

It's difficult to imagine the last possibility I mention:  perhaps it's a bit anthropomorphic, but there's such an overwhelming instinct tied into intelligence that compels an author to sign his work, to leave some sign he was here.  And God seems like the kind of guy who couldn't pass up saying, "You'll miss me when I'm gone."

Boredom.  Malaise.  The feeling that it's all been done.  Good-bye cruel eternity.  Alas, poor Yahweh, we hardly knew Ye.