Saturday, 25 October 2008

Entry 53: in which I brief the Ghost (again)

I have decided to set aside, for the moment, my unhelpful reflections on the nature of life, the universe and everything. Clearly, since I already know everything, I also know the answer about Me and Mrs G. But equally clearly, the fact that I appear not to have privileged access to this part of my psyche, suggests that the conundrum is better left unexplored.

So how to fill one's time?

What better than to call in the Ghost's debt. What debt? Well he owes me for being a total plonker. That will do.

Anyway. I tell him to hightail it back to obscurity and keep a watching brief on the lad. Who by now is almost certainly reaping the benefits of his distinctly unearthly precocity. One feels, almost with regret, that the lad and woe have a gravitational attraction for each other.

And speaking of gravity, why is it that it is so weak in this iteration of the universe? Something amiss surely?

Anyway, must resist the temptation to attend to that now.

(Besides which it might be unkind to those life forms that have already evolved to rack gravity up a couple of million times to where it should be. I mean, walking along minding your business one minute and being a very flat puddle of strawberry jam the next.)

Ah me. If one only had thumbs to twiddle. Those wretched apes have it all!

Wednesday, 22 October 2008

Entry 52: in which I ruminate further on the Mrs God thing

Now you must not think that I am obsessed by Mrs God, worthy though she it. It's just this hole in my memory that's nagging away at me.

While cogitating thus I stumbled across a rather frightening possibility. Has there always been a Mrs God? And if that's weird, it is any weirder than not having the faintest idea of how we met?

But this leads to further desperately worrying thoughts. Like has there always been me? It certainly feels like it but that's no criterion.

The alternative is almost worse, which is if there hasn't always been me, then how did I spring into being? Presumably some (even) higher entity created me.

But it gets worse and worse. Did a 'higher' higher entity then create the higher entity that created me? This is getting ridiculous. Even I can see an infinite regress when it's about to run me over.

The only crumb of comfort that I can glean from this is that spotty undergraduates in odd corners of the sentient universe will be beating their brains out over exactly the same thing.

Serve them right.

Friday, 10 October 2008

Entry 51: in which One is astonished

Decided that there has been enough shilly-shallying around the circumstances of my first meeting with Mrs God, so did the obvious thing and waylaid her.

Came straight out with it: "Now look here Mrs G; do you remember exactly when and how we first met?"

To my astonishment this apparently straightforward question was met with peals of laughter and the response "Oh, you are funny!"

And she wandered off cackling to herself.

I mean, for goodness sakes!

Wednesday, 8 October 2008

Entry 50: in which I reflect on something strange

With Mrs G assuming a higher profile once more, I have been reflecting on something a tad strange. It is this. In what circumstances did we meet?

Now bear with me on this one.

I know it's been a long time. But time for a deity is a rather slippery concept. Whereas biological creatures are swept along in what might be described as a linear stream of time, deities find themselves floating in an ocean of time. They can move this way and that, though not too far and not too fast. More usually they are prepared to move with the ebb and flow of time's tides and subtle currents.

In other words, no, it's not simply a matter of forgetting. Though I'll admit to a certain forgetfulness ...

No, it's more like, when I look into that part of what has been, I just get this kind of swirling emptiness, which defies introspection.

I could of course simply ask Mrs God if she remembers how we met, but I hesitate for two reasons

(a) she might not remember either which I find disconcerting or
(b) she might remember all too well which I find disconcerting

None of this is helped by a stupid bit of doggerel that goes round and round in my mind "God finds it odd".

Well of course I do.

Friday, 3 October 2008

Entry 49: in which the clouds have parted

Glad tidings. About time. But never mind. Anyway, the fact is that Mrs God is once again all sweetness and light. It appears that the gloom occasioned by the lad's ill-thought departure to Earth has lifted and she is once again taking an interest in the realm and its denizens.

She has (I learn through diverse and subtle means) instructed the wretched Ghost to keep some kind of watching brief over the boy and report progress. It seems that what she hears has pleased her.

The salient facts are these:

- Herod's plan to terminate the boy in his earthly form has failed
- it appears that his foster father, family in tow, headed for parts unknown - well, unknown to Herod, though known to others as Egypt. My sources have it that one of the seraphim tipped him off and headed him in that direction; strictly against regs, but can't be arsed to chase this rumour down
- lying low for a while seems to have done the trick (in that Herod has shuffled off his earthly coil) and the family are now ensconced in Nazareth where the lad's biological analogue is putting on a goodly spurt of growth
- there are disconcerting though utterly believable hints that he is growing up a proper little know-it-all. I do wish he would learn to keep a low profile, but alas, this is where these excursions of his tend to come unstuck.

Oh well. I suspect it is these very rumours of his precocity that have kindled a warm glow in Mrs G's maternal recesses and brightened her disposition.

We shall see.