God, You're Fired!
By Ubi Dubium ~
Over on her blog, Astreja asked this question:
So that got me thinking, if there actually were a god, and I could fire him and take his place, what would I do? And could I do a better job? So here's my "perfect plan":
Day 1: No more "divine hiddenness" crap for me. The first thing that I do, as soon as I take over the omnipotence gig, is to get on every TV channel, radio, twitter feed, blog, and say very clearly "Here I am! No more wondering, no more apologetics or lame excuses. Tonight I am rearranging the stars into some new constellations so you can all watch. Tomorrow morning on every single tree you will find a magic book growing, which can be read by anybody, no matter what language you speak, because it's magic. In the book you will find one single commandment: "Be excellent to each other."
Day 2: Back on the media, "Well that was a great show last night. I'm especially proud of my new constellations "Awesome Face" and "Spork". Next announcement, now that you know I'm here, I want to let you know that every single person who has ever claimed to have a divine revelation is completely wrong. Anybody who claims that they speak for god is full of shit. There are no ancient "holy books" that you need to hold sacred. You can figure out morality for yourself, because it's what you've always done anyway. You can keep your churches and stuff if you they make you happy, but no more groveling or pretending you are better than everybody else, or spending millions on fancy buildings. Music and potlucks are fine, keep those. If your pastor is a nice person and a good counselor and social event coordinator, keep him/her, otherwise you can chuck them out."
Day 3: "OK, next. When something inexplicably bad happens, you know how you guys will says "It's all part of god's perfect plan"? Well screw that! There is no perfect plan. There's no plan at all, other than to let you guys do your best and see what happens. So take care of each other for a change, willya?"
Day 4: "There's a bunch of stuff that my predecessor allowed for no good reason. So I'm calling it off. Childhood cancer is right out, as are all the other birth defects. Botflies are cancelled, as are a bunch of other human parasites. (I'll leave some diseases around to leave you a challenge, don't worry.) Also, teenage acne, I'm eliminating that one. And candy bars now have negative calories, so chow down and lose some weight. Earthquakes are officially changed from a few big ones to lots of little ones. And volcanos will now give you a year's warning before they blow. Tornadoes are reserved only for people who violate the "pretending you can speak for god" rule above. I'm also sending down instructions on how to build a cheap and efficient desalinator and pipeline system, so you can get water from the coast to send to your farmland."
Day 5: "I'm fixing a few problems with human anatomy. Everybody now gets earlids. Appendixes no longer explode and kill you. And most importantly, women who don't want to be pregnant can actually shut down the babymaking system, just by deciding to. And they can re-absorb a pregnancy that's going badly if they want to, and it's nobody's business but their own. (Since the ladies get this, I'll cancel enlarged prostates, so the men get something good out of this too.)
Day 6: "I reserve the right to meddle occasionally when the situation calls for it. You'll know when, because it won't be subtle or "mysterious ways". For instance, if a person is being really completely horrible to other people, and won't meet me for lunch to discuss it or anything, you might notice that their head suddenly falls off, probably while they are on national TV. And no praying for this either, if I'm omniscient that means I'm already paying attention. I think politicians who lie for personal gain will now have their noses grow, or turn to broccoli, or something else really obvious. If your cellphone turns into cheese, it means hang up and drive."
Day 7: I'm taking a break now and having some fun. I like iridescence and metallic shine and sparkles and cute. So to heck with natural selection for awhile, I'm going to make all the beetles come in cool shiny colors. All the spiders will now be fuzzy with cute faces. Moths get to be as pretty as butterflies. You will be able to breed cats that stay looking like adorable fluffy kittens. I'm going to pop some plants into being that grow already faceted gemstones. Oh, and unicorns. I'm making unicorns that actually fart rainbows. You're welcome.
So how's that? Suggestions on what to do the next week?
Website: http://boldquestions.wordpress.com
"Armed only with a vivid imagination, assume the persona of a god and come up with one or more god-like responses....We hear about gods who hear the *thud* of the sparrow when it hits the living room window, chirps feebly and staggers off muttering rude things about the idiot who left the drapes open. Then there are the gods lurking "outside time and space," wherever the Sam Hill that's supposed to be, supposedly controlling reality without actually touching it. Finally, there are the gods who do things like wandering into the Inn and starting a riot, or arguing with a tree.... Where do you fit on this continuum?" LINK
So that got me thinking, if there actually were a god, and I could fire him and take his place, what would I do? And could I do a better job? So here's my "perfect plan":
Day 1: No more "divine hiddenness" crap for me. The first thing that I do, as soon as I take over the omnipotence gig, is to get on every TV channel, radio, twitter feed, blog, and say very clearly "Here I am! No more wondering, no more apologetics or lame excuses. Tonight I am rearranging the stars into some new constellations so you can all watch. Tomorrow morning on every single tree you will find a magic book growing, which can be read by anybody, no matter what language you speak, because it's magic. In the book you will find one single commandment: "Be excellent to each other."
Day 2: Back on the media, "Well that was a great show last night. I'm especially proud of my new constellations "Awesome Face" and "Spork". Next announcement, now that you know I'm here, I want to let you know that every single person who has ever claimed to have a divine revelation is completely wrong. Anybody who claims that they speak for god is full of shit. There are no ancient "holy books" that you need to hold sacred. You can figure out morality for yourself, because it's what you've always done anyway. You can keep your churches and stuff if you they make you happy, but no more groveling or pretending you are better than everybody else, or spending millions on fancy buildings. Music and potlucks are fine, keep those. If your pastor is a nice person and a good counselor and social event coordinator, keep him/her, otherwise you can chuck them out."
Day 3: "OK, next. When something inexplicably bad happens, you know how you guys will says "It's all part of god's perfect plan"? Well screw that! There is no perfect plan. There's no plan at all, other than to let you guys do your best and see what happens. So take care of each other for a change, willya?"
Day 4: "There's a bunch of stuff that my predecessor allowed for no good reason. So I'm calling it off. Childhood cancer is right out, as are all the other birth defects. Botflies are cancelled, as are a bunch of other human parasites. (I'll leave some diseases around to leave you a challenge, don't worry.) Also, teenage acne, I'm eliminating that one. And candy bars now have negative calories, so chow down and lose some weight. Earthquakes are officially changed from a few big ones to lots of little ones. And volcanos will now give you a year's warning before they blow. Tornadoes are reserved only for people who violate the "pretending you can speak for god" rule above. I'm also sending down instructions on how to build a cheap and efficient desalinator and pipeline system, so you can get water from the coast to send to your farmland."
Day 5: "I'm fixing a few problems with human anatomy. Everybody now gets earlids. Appendixes no longer explode and kill you. And most importantly, women who don't want to be pregnant can actually shut down the babymaking system, just by deciding to. And they can re-absorb a pregnancy that's going badly if they want to, and it's nobody's business but their own. (Since the ladies get this, I'll cancel enlarged prostates, so the men get something good out of this too.)
Day 6: "I reserve the right to meddle occasionally when the situation calls for it. You'll know when, because it won't be subtle or "mysterious ways". For instance, if a person is being really completely horrible to other people, and won't meet me for lunch to discuss it or anything, you might notice that their head suddenly falls off, probably while they are on national TV. And no praying for this either, if I'm omniscient that means I'm already paying attention. I think politicians who lie for personal gain will now have their noses grow, or turn to broccoli, or something else really obvious. If your cellphone turns into cheese, it means hang up and drive."
Day 7: I'm taking a break now and having some fun. I like iridescence and metallic shine and sparkles and cute. So to heck with natural selection for awhile, I'm going to make all the beetles come in cool shiny colors. All the spiders will now be fuzzy with cute faces. Moths get to be as pretty as butterflies. You will be able to breed cats that stay looking like adorable fluffy kittens. I'm going to pop some plants into being that grow already faceted gemstones. Oh, and unicorns. I'm making unicorns that actually fart rainbows. You're welcome.
So how's that? Suggestions on what to do the next week?
Website: http://boldquestions.wordpress.com
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