God Talks

Prime Mover: Thanks for having Me.
Earthly Representative: It’s our pleasure. We’re really excited to have you here.
PM: Ah, no worries. I was here already.
ER: And, personally speaking, it is such an honor to meet you.
PM: Man, you already knew Me in your heart.
ER: Really?
PM: No, I’m joking. But we have met already.
ER: We have?
PM: When you were six. When your dad took you to see the mountains for the first time.
ER: That was you?
PM: Yeah. You know, via mountains.
ER: I feel compelled to apologize for my informality. I wish we were conducting this interview in a language with a formal second person pronoun.
PM: Want to speak in German?
ER: I don’t speak German.
PM: I do.
ER: How many languages do you speak?
PM: All of them.
ER: Swahili?
PM: Yes. And river.
ER: So can we speak in German? Can you do that?
PM: Nah. I’m only the Prime Mover.
ER: The First Cause?
PM: You could say that.
ER: Can I call you God?
PM: If you want to. It’s a pretty sweet nickname.
ER: What about Allah, or YHVH?
PM: You can’t actually pronounce that second one.
ER: Can you pronounce it?
PM: Yes.
ER: If I say your Name, will you smite me?
PM: I’m not smiting today.
ER: Can I call you “you”?
PM: Whatever you want. I’m here to listen.
ER: So you started everything?
PM: Not everything, technically speaking. I didn’t start Me.
ER: Who did?
PM: Well, if you’re going to get technical, I did.
ER: But you just said—
PM: Don’t dwell on it.
ER: But—
PM: Seriously. Get over it. I’m First.
ER: But the chicken, the egg—
PM: Baby, I’m the chicken and the egg. I’m the egg you ate for breakfast. And the toast, and the bacon.
ER: I don’t eat bacon.
PM: I saw you eat that bacon.
ER: Okay, I did. But don’t tell my mom. She’s very religious.
PM: Honey, she already knows.
ER: She does? Crap. I mean—oh my God—oh shit—shoot! Goddamnit! Oh, f—
PM: Hey there. Calm down. It’s fine.
ER: It is?
PM: I hear you every time. This isn’t any different.
ER: Well, it is for me.
PM: True.
ER: So while we’re on the topic of religion, do you have any thoughts? Words of wisdom?
PM: I am wisdom.
ER: Oh, yeah. Well, what about different religious groups—how do you feel about them?
PM: I’ll answer this, but tread lightly. I’m not starting any wars today.
ER: So I can’t ask if you have any kids?
PM: You’re all my kids.
ER: Okay, okay. But with regard to the religious?
PM: You know, they’re trying. I give them that. I’ve got my eye on everyone, but I’m proud of a lot of those religious guys, because they’re trying. Many aren’t. And many of the irreligious are. It’s all very mixed-up.
ER: Are the Jews really the chosen people?
PM: Funny thing about the Jews. I like them, I do. They’re stuck on Me, they know there’s just One of Me. We have a nice relationship.
ER: They keep getting killed.
PM: Yeah, but they whine about it afterwards.
ER: They’re supposed to be so whiny?
PM: Yes.
ER: History’s tattletales.
PM: You’re quick.
ER: I always hated tattletales.
PM: Because they get the bad guys in trouble?
ER: No, that's important. Because...
PM: Because sometimes, you were bad? And then you got in trouble and had to learn to behave yourself? Take, for example, that one time your sister ratted you out for--
ER: Okay, I get it! But how’d you—?
PM: Omnipotence, baby. And yes, wow.
ER: So you know what I’m thinking right now?
PM: Yes.
ER: What am I thinking?
PM: You’re wondering if I know what you’re thinking, and, a little farther in there, you’re also wondering how your best friend’s neighbor would look in a—
ER: Hey!
PM: You asked.
ER: I guess so. But back to omnipotence. What’s it like knowing everything?
PM: I like it. It’s better than knowing nothing.
ER: Do you even know what it feels like to know nothing?
PM: I know what everything feels like.
ER: Are you all-powerful?
PM: Yes.
ER: Can you give me wings? The ability to speak German?
PM: Yes.
ER: Will you?
PM: No.
ER: Why not?
PM: Shouldn’t you have thought about these questions beforehand?—just kidding, I know you did. But listen—I’m omnipotent, I’m omnipresent, I’m all-powerful—but I’m also Good. Matter, information, it’s all gotta come from somewhere. If I gave you wings it would disrupt space-time and make a huge mess.
ER: Couldn’t you just clean it up?
PM: I did the Creation thing already. I’m resting today.
ER: You could fix it tomorrow.
PM: You’ll be dead Tomorrow.
ER: I’m dying tomorrow?!
PM: Big T. Tomorrow. God, sometimes I forget how small you are.
ER: You forget?
PM: Well, no. But I get surprised.
ER: Really?
PM: No. But I do get irritated.
ER: Really?
PM: Yes.
ER: Really?
PM: Yes.
ER: Oh. Sorry.
PM: It’s okay. Next question?
ER: Well, I must ask—
PM: We’re at the meaning of life already? I was wondering when you’d bring it up.
ER: But you already knew.
PM: He catches on!
ER: So what’s the meaning of life?
PM: Staying alive.
ER: That’s cryptic.
PM: Dude. I’m God.
ER: But really! What do you mean by that?
PM: Ask Merriam-Webster.
ER: I don’t have a dictionary.
PM: I do.
ER: You carry one around?
PM: No, retard. I know everything, remember?
ER: Oh yeah! Sorry! Sorry! I’m really sorry! I’m so, so sorry! I’m, I’m—
PM: Stop blubbering. And sorry about the Wrath. It’s a killer.
ER: <I>[sniffle]</i>
PM: C’mon now, chin up, look at Me—wait, just kidding! Don’t look at Me! You’ll die! But please, stop crying.
ER: You…love me.
PM: Feel that? That’s nice, huh?
ER: Yeah! Yeah it is! God is great!
PM: Watch it.
ER: What?
PM: The enthusiasm. Slippery slope.
ER: You use clichés?
PM: “Slippery slope” is a good one. I also like “come of age” and “magic touch.”
ER: “Magic touch”? Really?
PM: Yeah. Moms, lovers, doctors…it’s wonderful.
ER: Do you believe in magic?
PM: I’m above belief.
ER: Can you perform magic?
PM: No.
ER: You’re omnipotent, all-powerful…you can’t pull a little David Blaine?
PM: That’s offensive.
ER: Sorry. But really—no magic?
PM: Nope. It’s never magic if it comes from Me.
ER: Because you’re the Prime Mover.
PM: Yeah, baby, yeah! I can, however, do miracles.
ER: So miracles are real!
PM: You’re sitting here, aren’t you?
ER: What?
PM: Never mind.
ER: What about the Red Sea? The raising of Lazarus?
PM: Don’t split hairs.
ER: There’s another cliché!
PM: Listen, kid. Everything I say to you is a cliché. I am Language. I invented Grammar. I am in intimate contact with the electrons that are spinning in your foetal toenail twenty years ago. I know every thought that has ever been thought or ever will be thought, by anybody. There aren’t too many fresh phrases left. Joyce did a decent job mixing them around. Google’s discovering how to search them out.
ER: You use Google?
PM: I don’t need Google. Google is crafting itself in My image.
ER: Was that an allusion?
PM: You’re studying journalism and you’ve never taken a literature class?
ER: How’d you—hey, was that an earthquake?
PM: Sorry. I sighed.
ER: I think we’re out of time.
PM: I’m never out of time.
ER: It was a pleasure having you.
PM: My Pleasure.
ER: Really?
PM: God only knows.