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: [sniffle]

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.

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