tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9102703547473184912024-03-14T00:47:06.022+01:00The God DiariesJohnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03977110666035263322noreply@blogger.comBlogger68125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-910270354747318491.post-79990792509199937052009-03-12T19:38:00.005+01:002009-03-12T20:02:29.032+01:00Postcard from Earth (8: meet Lilly)Dear Pater, <br /><br />Well, how sweet is that? The lads have clubbed together and got me a donkey.<br /><br />I say "got" advisedly, because we are not talking "purchased" here. I was a bit alarmed at the thought of handling suspect goods, but as they said "OK, so we stole her from the farmer, but after all, he stole her from her mother".<br /><br />Now I know logic is not my strongest point, but I felt I couldn't argue with that.<br /><br />And she's ever so sweet. She is called Lilly. I was quite excited to discover that she is marked with a cross down her back and withers. I said this meant that I would always be able to find her in a herd of donkeys. <br /><br />At this the lads fell about laughing. Turns out that they're all marked like that. Humph. With all the mucking out I've done you'd think that I would have noticed. Oh, well, I'm a carpenter, not a donkey herdsman or whatever such is called.<br /><br />Anyway, Lilly provided a perfect backdrop for a story I was telling a crowd of people. Well, a number of people. Several. Anyway, that's not the point. They were all griping about how to get along, no dosh for clothes etc etc. I think they thought I should be able to do something about it. Fact is, me and my mates need the dosh, not them. How else are we going to fund our good works?<br /><br />So, I gestured over to where she was standing and said "Consider, Lilly's in the field. She weaves not, neither does she spin, but she's got a sight better coat on her than Solomon ever had". <br /><br />There was a stunned silence. And they drifted off. But I think they were dead impressed.<br /><br />That's all for now,<br />Love to Mama.<br /><br />PS - You probably don't know about Solomon. Neither do I, much, truth to tell, but he was some kind of head honcho with lots of stuff, hence my reference. Perhaps you would tell Mama about Lilly? I'm sure she'd want to know.Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03977110666035263322noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-910270354747318491.post-1741729962090093522009-02-08T16:02:00.009+01:002009-02-08T17:15:13.206+01:00Postcard from Earth (7: chilling with my mates)Dear Pater,<br /><br />I think I've explained I've done with the carpentry thing and what next etc. Anyway I've decided to be a holy man. Given that I'm stuck with the celibacy I thought it might be a sensible thing to leverage.<br /><br />Off to a somewhat slow start, but I've met up with a few lovely local lads and we hang out together. There's not much to do, but we do a lot of it quand même. You'd think they would need to attend to their trades, fishing and stuff, but apparently life is quite easy if you chill.<br /><br />For example, improbable I know, but turns out that locusts are not unpleasant to eat when dipped in honey. Both are in plentiful supply, luckily, though the latter a tad difficult to collect, what with bees being the possessive little blighters that they are. It seems I need more experience than the others, so they are generous in stepping aside and letting me do much of the collecting.<br /><br />Then for quality relaxation the lads smoke these leaves; they call them Jerusalem Gold (or Black?) Something like that. Talk about mellow. Comes highly recommended.<br /><br />I've floated the idea that they might "follow me". Somewhat flaccid reaction at first, generally along the lines of "Where?" and "Why?" <br /><br />So I did the "Well I am the Son of God you know" speach and they were dead impressed. "Cool", "Works for me chief" and that sort of thing. We were all a bit Jerusalemmed at the time, but that seemed to enhance the cosmic significance of the moment rather than detract from it.<br /><br />Anyway, as I hinted earlier, it leaves me with a bit of a "What next?" situation. I could do with one of those mission / vision things that you are so good at but which I fear I failed to get my teeth into at the time.<br /><br />Ah well. Tomorrow.<br /><br />That's all for now,<br />Love to Mama.<br /><br />PS - the Ghost is a bit sniffy about Gold (lots of very dull talk about synaptic degradation and stuff). I'd be grateful if you could just steer him away from Mama for the moment. Biochemistry's never been her thing anyway. Ta.Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03977110666035263322noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-910270354747318491.post-32706370100815772672009-01-19T10:03:00.006+01:002009-01-20T00:32:48.446+01:00Postcard from Earth (6: Moving on)Dear Pater,<br /><br />I am now fully grown it seems. I've done more than 30 of these annual circles around the sun which is how they reckon age in these parts. You have no idea how time drags for a biological entity. But of course you do, ha ha.<br /><br />Anyway, I have decided I'm done with carpentry. Yes, "horny handed son of toil" and all that has a certain ring to it I suppose, but, honestly, one plank is very much like another.<br /><br />I said to my earthly papa, Joseph, that I was thinking of moving on, do a bit of a roadie, find some like-minded chums to hang out with etc. In effect that it was time for him to look for a new skivvy. And he says? "Whatever"! Whatever? I mean, OK, we haven't always agreed exact criteria for the difference between a dovetail and a mortise and tenon, but still.<br /><br />My earthly mum Mary was a bit more choked. She mumbled on about me being quite grown up now and it was about time, one less body to tidy up after, one less mouth to feed, at last some room to swing the cat in blah blah, but I think I can tell when someone is putting on a brave face.<br /><br />So, that's me sorted. Well, not quite. Having decided what not to do, I've got to make a start on figuring what to do. I hear they need some help on the forex desk down the local temple. Might start there.<br /><br />Anyway, that's all for now,<br />Love to Mama.<br /> <br />PS - I take it you'll be good for a reference in the unlikely event I need one? Latin or Aramaic, in case you need to brush up.Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03977110666035263322noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-910270354747318491.post-21732593702578539582009-01-10T17:27:00.008+01:002009-01-15T17:23:26.531+01:00Postcard from Earth (6: celibacy)Dear Pater,<br /><br />Sorry not to have been in touch sooner; mostly I have been doing carpentry and growing up.<br /><br />On which matter, growing up that is, not carpentry, I have the following observation to make. There should be a user manual for these monkey bodies.<br /><br />For a start, there is the quaint habit of walking on the back legs in a body design that is clearly quadruped. I mean, for goodness sakes, it took me the best part of two years to learn this trick. And there isn't a tail to balance with or anything.<br /><br />Then there is the practice of wearing the genitals outside the body. Inconvenient or what? And speaking of which, why is it that parts of these bodies, and those parts in particular, seem to have a mind of their own and not do the bidding of the central nervous system? <br /><br />Reproduction itself is a trifle quaint and seems to involve the direct introjection of genetic material into the other party. At least it seems that way to me, though no one is very forthcoming when probed. Whoops, that doesn't sound quite right, but I'm sure you know what I mean. <br /><br />That said, one or two local lasses have discretely hinted that they would be happy to help me in my researches. I was quite interested since I gather that there is a recreational element to the whole thing, but the Ghost has absolutely and completely prohibited same.<br /><br />For why? It appears, and I quote, that I am "a walking meiotic disaster zone".<br /><br />Naturally I pressed for something a bit more useful than this, and the Ghost was, for once, explicit, if brief. It has to do with the gene cloning and splicing that he was required to do to manage the virgin birth thingy. It seems it was a complete lash-up, a botch, though this is my description, not his. The upshot is that my genes are NOT to be dumped into the local pool unless I want everyone to sprout armpits and glow in the dark.<br /><br />However, there is a carrot that goes with the stick, and it is a clever invention called celibacy.<br /><br />What the Ghost says is that some folks voluntarily forswear this introjection thing and live life on "a higher plane". Turns out that other folk think rather well of them etc etc and it's quite a useful credential to have if one plans to be a holy man blahdy blah.<br /><br />Well truth is that carpentry is a bit samey, so I'd like to keep my options open ref future occupations. More on this later.<br /><br />Anyway, that's all for now,<br />Love to Mama.<br /><br />PS - I don't think that Mama will be all that interested in the introjection discussion. Just my opinion.Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03977110666035263322noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-910270354747318491.post-90338190953783088932009-01-06T10:25:00.006+01:002009-01-15T17:23:04.084+01:00Postcard from Earth (5: loot)Dear Pater,<br /><br />Slightly stung with indignation and a bit of guilt thrown in, ref the birthday bash. <br /><br />Let me elaborate:<br /><br />- the turnip, well yes, OK, that was jolly good<br />- the broom; I think you can draw your own conclusions<br />- the sandals; hmmm, fair enough, and may be the start of a fashion<br />- the sand; apparently someone's idea of a joke in case I don't know what the broom's for<br />- the stick, which I though quite original, turns out to be a replacement shaft for the broom<br />- and the lump of cheese is, it appears, soap<br /><br />All in all a touch utilitarian. Never mind, they're jolly nice really (I mean my Earth family, not the presents).<br /><br />That's all for now,<br />Love to mama.<br /><br />PS - no pressie from the Realm, yet. May have fallen down a worm hole?Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03977110666035263322noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-910270354747318491.post-36636172186180676772008-12-25T19:41:00.005+01:002009-01-15T17:21:45.160+01:00Postcard from Earth (4: happy birthday)Dear Pater,<br /><br />Celebrated my (Earthly) birthday today. It seems to be one of the few benefits of being here, since as far as I know I don't have a birthday in the Realm. You must explain that to me someday.<br /><br />Anyway, everyone was very sweet. They put my presents under a tree - I suppose it is the thought that counts because the presents themselves were rubbish, to whit:<br /><br />- a turnip<br />- a broom<br />- a pair of sandals<br />- some sand<br />- a stick (not sure if this is intended to be burnt, or to support me as I walk)<br />- a lump of cheese (at least I hope that's what it is)<br /><br />The younger children were very kind, as was Mary, my surrogate mum. She did at least cook a nice meal including one of my favourites, Jerusalem Sprouts.<br /><br />It was somehow telegraphed to me that this was a one-off and that I needn't expect an annual bash.<br /><br />Fair enough.<br /><br />Anyway, that's all for now,<br />Love to mama.<br /><br />PS - send a pressie if you like, but no pressure.Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03977110666035263322noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-910270354747318491.post-5455276212099870762008-12-19T16:00:00.001+01:002009-01-15T17:21:25.181+01:00Postcard from Earth (3: we do laugh)Dear Pater,<br /><br />Trust all is well in the Realm. Things continue to limp along here. I would like to make my mark, but how? Need to reflect on that a while.<br /><br />Anyway, enough of the serious stuff. You'll laugh at this. I'm still sneaking off to the temple to have a bit of argy bargy with the local clerics and we've got into this kind of comic routine. When I get there they say "Well, if it isn't the little whippersnapper" and then I retort "Well, if it isn't the big whoppersnippers".<br /><br />We do laugh.<br /><br />But maybe you have to be there.<br /><br />That's all for now,<br />Love to mama.<br /><br />PS - of course it occurs to me that you may not know about genital mutilation, in which case the joke falls rather flat. I'll explain it sometime.Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03977110666035263322noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-910270354747318491.post-75976064605386887902008-12-17T13:25:00.003+01:002009-01-15T17:24:25.646+01:00Postcard from Earth (2: mucking in, mucking out)Dear Pater,<br /><br />Nothing much to report. I have to say that I thought "Planet of the Apes" would be rather more fun than appears to be the case, but, early days. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? Well you for one. Ha ha, just a little celestial humour there.<br /><br />Despite being the oldest I have to do loads of household chores, clean out the chicken run, sweep up the shavings. Honestly!<br /><br />Lost it recently after being told to muck out the stables and said to my biological mum, Mary, "Now look here! I am the son of God you know!"<br /><br />Well, she just fixed me with her beady and responded "We are ALL the children of God, sunshine! Now get going you little mucker" or words much to that effect.<br /><br />Blimey, slightly more to the wench than I had credited. Honestly, that glint put me in mind of mama, bless her. Is there a common thread running through all female entities that I had failed to spot?<br /><br />Anyway, that's it for now.<br />Love to mama.<br /><br />PS - it might be better if you did not relate the above to her.Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03977110666035263322noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-910270354747318491.post-66048186265262474722008-12-14T22:12:00.007+01:002009-01-15T17:20:04.389+01:00Postcard from Earth (1: chewing the fat)Dear Pater,<br /><br />So far things are going pretty well. I'm not as little as I used to be which is good. I mean I can walk on my own and stuff.<br /><br />My Earthly parents are Joseph and Mary; maybe you knew that. Worthy types, but a bit literal.<br /><br />Everyone is pretty ignorant here. Recently engaged some Holy men in a little debate and ran circles around them. Now I know what you're thinking Pater ... anyone from the Realm should be able to take on a primate and all that, but still. I was good. I know I was.<br /><br />My Earthlies had a bit of a purple fit because they had gone on ahead with the caravan (how was I supposed to know) and I'd got left behind. Does suggest that their parenting skills are a couple of brownie points short of illustrious ...<br /><br />Anyway I expect they were dead chuffed to see me chewing the fat with the Holy ones. I got grounded all the same and have to wear a horrid itchy scratchy shirt thing as punishment.<br /><br />That's all for now.<br />Love to mama.<br /><br />PS - any chance you can do something about my internal and external parasites? Ta.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#996633;"><em>[Editor's note: an interesting change in format; anyway, let's see where it takes us.]</em></span>Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03977110666035263322noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-910270354747318491.post-77147814533959509052008-12-07T22:44:00.002+01:002008-12-07T22:50:25.850+01:00Entry 58: in which temptation fails to deliverDespite having hatched a plan so cunning that foxes are still trying to understand it the outcome has been a little short of outright success. In fact, you could say that it failed. But only if you were uncharitable. Well, uncharitable and gifted with a pernicious level of honesty. But enough. <br /><br />This is what Lucy reported.<br /><br />It all started rather strangely. Turns out that by the time Lucy was on the scene, the lad and Ghost were already in the sticks ready to topple off high places. Now I had quite forgotten to prime the Ghost on this part of the wheeze, but some ethereal whatsit called Azazel presented his credentials to the Ghost and led the lad out into the wilderness anyway. The Ghost knows him it seems, and the name does sound vaguely familiar. Turns out he's a kind of Metatron in reverse - once used to be in the Realm, but headed for Earth long since where he has stayed. He's a shape shifter, and mostly seems to like to go around as a goat.<br /><br />Personally I don't like the sound of this. Superstitious types are going to have the lot of us trotting around on cloven hooves, sprouting horns etc. Not good for the image, but Lucy pooh-poohed this as very unlikely, so allowed myself to be reassured.<br /><br />Anyway, this Azazel was off being a goat elsewhere when Lucy arrived so he wasted no time and engaged the lad in a spot of temptation, standard stuff, turn rocks into bread, jump off a cliff for the fun of it, that sort of thing. The lad was in a right gloom though and was having none of it (I could have told Lucy, rocks into milk and cookies and he would have had a chance, but never mind).<br /><br />Indeed, it was all a bit poignant apparently. <br /><br />"Really?" I enquire. "Do tell Lucy. What transpired?"<br /><br />"Well, it was quite distressing really. I'm only halfway through my temptation routine, done the loaves, done the jewels, but haven't got onto wine, women and song yet when he pipes up 'Look Lucy, stop arsing around. Why not get behind me for once? I could do with the backup.' Just like that".<br /><br />"Get behind him eh? Gosh, he does sound a bit down ... What next?"<br /><br />"Honestly Chief, I think we've shot our wad. Given the life expectancy on that planet, he'll be back in time for tea. Just sit this one out. That's what I would do."<br /><br />Which is pretty well what I've said all along.<br /><br />Not that anyone will remember.Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03977110666035263322noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-910270354747318491.post-58445347087969146022008-11-26T18:44:00.010+01:002008-11-27T00:32:00.935+01:00Entry 57: in which I am a trifle disgracefulHaving cogitated awhile, I present Lucy with my cunning plan, the one that features temptation. And it goes like this.<br /><br />Tempt the lad.<br /><br />At first Lucy is dismissive, pointing out that the lad cannot, voluntarily, quit the biological entity in which he is embedded.<br /><br />Quite so, but that is not the point of the temptation.<br /><br />"What you do, Lucy is to tempt the lad, to, how shall I put it, walk off a high place. The biological entity is reduced to its component parts, and the lad is free to rematerialise in the Realm."<br /><br />Lucy looks thoughtful.<br /><br />"I know the lad's not about to take gold in the Intelligence Olympics, but surely even he is going to have trouble swallowing that one?"<br /><br />"Ah" I say, "this is the cunning bit. Being of deietic origins, he will naturally assume that he is invulnerable. In fact, you could push that very point!"<br /><br />"Well", he says, "I'm a little taken aback. In effect, you are suggesting that an entity terminates <em>itself</em> ... Isn't that, ethically, a tad suspect?"<br /><br />"Good grief Lucy. Do you know how many entities, biological, androidal, crystalline, you name it, disappear in your average supernova?"<br /><br />"You're the boss" he says.<br /><br />Not before time, I think to myself, and continue "I'll have the Ghost take him out into the desert and into the mountains. Spin the old 'time to fast and reflect' line. And then you step in."<br /><br />He bows and disappears.<br /><br />And it's true, I do feel a teeny bit disgraceful. But I shall forgive myself.<br /><br />Just this once.Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03977110666035263322noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-910270354747318491.post-29054101771885924402008-11-17T23:05:00.006+01:002008-11-20T22:28:45.810+01:00Entry 56: in which extraction proves problematicTracked Lucy down at last.<br /><br />(I never really like to ask the Archies where they have been. Seems a bit rude, somehow. I mean they're entitled to dimension-flit; it would just be nice to be told. Oh well.)<br /><br />Briefed him on the rather agitated state that Mrs G has got herself into, and that she is keen on the idea that the lad be extracted and returned to the realm.<br /><br />"Well Squire" says Lucy in that rather obsequious manner of his, "the problem is that the boy is embedded in a biological entity, not so?"<br /><br />"Quite, Lucy - but as Mrs G points out, one is a deity. I mean, hang it all, if one can't extract the lad, what can one do?"<br /><br />He pulls what can only be described as a wry face - "Not so easy I fear Squire. It's the old metastructure problem".<br /><br />I become aware of a sinking feeling. Lucy's generally a doer. This is not good news. And certainly not the sort of intelligence that Mrs G will be partial to.<br /><br />"Come on Lucy, options!"<br /><br />"The best thing would be to kill the biological entity. That will null the embedded status and the boy will be free to dimension-shift."<br /><br />One was aghast. "Good grief Lucy, I have never killed a biological entity. Well not knowingly, anyway. Plenty of road-kill as it were, but that's another matter. I just couldn't. I'm far too squeamish. And there is a sense in which ... no, no, doesn't bear thinking about. Why don't we just, well, you know, haul him out of said entity."<br /><br />Alas, no joy from Lucy.<br /><br />"Ah" he says, "it doesn't quite work like that Squire. As I said, it's the old metastructure problem".<br /><br />"Meta thingy, yes, just remind me Lucy".<br /><br />"Well the simplest case is to consider say the kind of clay tablet that the earthlings are keen on scratching on. They make marks, the marks encode information, and the information can be read by anyone who knows the code."<br /><br />"Err, keep going Lucy".<br /><br />"OK Squire, so there we have structure and metastructure. The structure is a clay tablet marked in a certain way. The story is the metastructure. You can think of it floating above the tablet as it were. It is <span style="font-style: italic;">of the tablet</span>, and yet in another sense quite different. In fact, for someone who doesn't know the marks, there <span style="font-style: italic;">is</span> no metastructure, and it amazes them that someone else can actually glean something from those marks.<br /><br />"Thus it is with biological entities, at least those that have evolved some computational neural circuits. The neurons buzz away - equivalent to the clay tablets - but <span style="font-style: italic;">above </span>that activity there is the <a href="http://thegoddiaries.blogspot.com/2008/08/entry-37-in-which-lucy-waxes-strange.html">metastructure</a>: experience, consciousness and meaning. It's much less confusing in the realm, because we can interpret this as deionic activity, but in the 3rd dimension it remains a matter a metaphysics."<br /><br />"Now I expect this has some relevance for lifting the boy" I venture.<br /><br />"Indeed" Lucy continues. "The, how shall I put it, essence of the boy exists as a metastructure reflecting the neural activity of the biological entity in a kind of parallel informational dimension. Now it's true that we could 'lift' this metastructure, but if the nervous activity continues, as it will if we don't kill the entity, the informational dimension would, again, instantly mirror that nervous activity. Thus another metastructure would instantaneously come into being: in effect, Boy version 2."<br /><br />"So what?"<br /><br />"Well" he continues "when the entity does finally die either from accident or entropic degradation, Boy version 2 is going to turn up on your doorstep isn't he?"<br /><br />Me, faintly, "You mean there would be two of them?"<br /><br />He nods.<br /><br />"That might be too much of a good thing ..." I suggest.<br /><br />He nods again.<br /><br />"Nil desperandum Lucy" I say, "I have a plan ..."Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03977110666035263322noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-910270354747318491.post-89276351000485575282008-11-17T11:17:00.002+01:002008-11-17T21:11:25.224+01:00Entry 55: in which the Ghost dishes the gossWhere's an archangel when you want one? No, no, the question is rhetorical. Fact is, I can't move for tripping over cherubim, but Lucifer and the rest distinctly thin on the ground.<br /><br />Digression to self: Is some sort of census required? I mean, where do they (cherubim) come from? I'm sure there are more every time I look. Or is it that they just move around a lot? Anyway, with Mrs G being a trifle exercised, this must go into the "Sometime" folder ...<br /><br />No Lucy, but did bump into the Ghost.<br /><br />"What ho etc.," I volunteer, but skimp on the pleasantries as I can see he is bursting with news, "What gives on the Planet of the Apes, then?"<br /><br />And he catalogues the following, none of which I find reassuring:<br /><br />- the lad is a right smart-arse (this is news?)<br />- he has grown his hair<br />- he is wearing sandals<br />- he has persuaded some lads even dimmer than himself to chuck in their day jobs and follow him around<br />- he is wowing the locals with miraculous performances<br />- he is right up the noses of various worthies, essentially by (a) being cleverer than them (this is news) and (b) by messing with the forex desk in some temple or other<br />- and generally raising his profile past the point where the numbers change from green to red<br /><br />Now I should explain the obvious.<br /><br />Obvious point the first: when you step down a dimension you can be as thick as curdled milk and still know more than the <a href="http://thegoddiaries.blogspot.com/2008/06/entry-20-in-which-we-unpack-dimensions.html">threaties</a>.<br /><br />Obvious point the second: biologically embedded entities can't do real pan-dimensional stuff, which does really come across as <a href="http://thegoddiaries.blogspot.com/2008/06/entry-20-in-which-we-unpack-dimensions.html">miraculous</a>. Thus while the lad can do plenty of mind-control, wake the dead, get the lame walking, that sort of thing, he can't actually grow back severed limbs or give folks three eyes. He can change his density of course, but unless he plans walking on water some time (ha ha) I can't see that being much use to him.<br /><br />Anyway, even I can see that it's time for Plan B, and the moment I can track Lucy down, I shall set it in motion.<br /><br />All we need is a little luck and ... some temptation!<br /><br />Brilliant!Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03977110666035263322noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-910270354747318491.post-20776374839625089902008-11-15T23:13:00.011+01:002008-11-16T12:00:14.005+01:00Entry 54: in which Mrs G is emphaticMrs God, as everyone knows, can be <a href="http://thegoddiaries.blogspot.com/2008/10/entry-49-in-which-clouds-have-parted.html">sweetness and light</a>. If there were lambs in the realm they would gambol at her feet, and quite possibly lick them too.<br /><br />However, Mrs G is, once more, vexed, no prizes for guessing what about.<br /><br />Thus, in the manner of one who is not lacking in intelligence, I have been giving her the space she needs at a trying time like this.<br /><br />Imagine, then, the stinging indignation one felt, when tracked down and accused of (and I quote) "evasion".<br /><br />"Now look here Mrs G" I began, in a tone of utter reasonableness.<br /><br />"No, you look here!"<br /><br />Cut across me. Just like that. Momentarily robbing me of the power of speech. In which no doubt welcome vacuum she continues "This has gone on quite long enough. Go and get the boy! Bring the little sod back and I mean now".<br /><br />Well I launch into a reasoned description of the virtue of travel, the broadening of horizons, that sort of thing, only to be interrupted yet again.<br /><br />"Excuse me" she says in a tone one would describe as being on the frosty side of frigid, "which part of my last sentence have you not understood? Where would elaboration be most useful? Perhaps you would like to attempt a paraphrase and reflect it back to me? Perhaps ..."<br /><br />"Now now dear, let's be reasonable about this." My pleading tone. "The boy is embedded you know, there are <a href="http://thegoddiaries.blogspot.com/2008/09/entry-42-in-which-lad-emerges-blinking.html">natural laws</a> here that don't want to be violated, it's not just a matter of ..."<br /><br />"Hmmm". Not a good sign, when Mrs G Hmmms. Generally a prelude to biting sarcasm. As now. "Let's get this right, shall we? You are a deity, I think? Yes? Have I got that bit right? Oh good. You are in charge of this ludicrous universe. Yes? You are omnipotent. Hmmmm? That means you can do what you like rather than just bleating about natural laws. Or is there some subtlety I haven't quite grasped? So may I suggest ..."<br /><br />Fortunately her words were becoming fainter and fainter, something that I can only attribute to the distance that I was busy putting between us.<br /><br />"Quite so dear" I say over my shoulder, "Look, let me have a word with Lucy. He's good with this kind of unorthodox stuff. Be right back".<br /><br />Well perhaps this last was a tiny exaggeration. But the idea about getting Lucy involved is a good one.<br /><br />If I say so myself.Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03977110666035263322noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-910270354747318491.post-10667327502394057522008-10-25T10:36:00.004+02:002008-10-25T10:55:41.704+02:00Entry 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.<br /><br />So how to fill one's time?<br /><br />What better than to call in the Ghost's debt. What debt? Well he owes me for being a total plonker. That will do.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />And speaking of gravity, why is it that it is so weak in this iteration of the universe? Something amiss surely? <br /><br />Anyway, must resist the temptation to attend to that now. <br /><br />(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.)<br /><br />Ah me. If one only had thumbs to twiddle. Those wretched apes have it all!Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03977110666035263322noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-910270354747318491.post-45052298215013023912008-10-22T01:13:00.003+02:002008-10-22T01:25:28.454+02:00Entry 52: in which I ruminate further on the Mrs God thingNow 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.<br /><br />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?<br /><br />But this leads to further desperately worrying thoughts. Like has there always been me? It certainly feels like it but that's no criterion.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Serve them right.Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03977110666035263322noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-910270354747318491.post-28227528961777624672008-10-10T17:25:00.003+02:002008-10-10T17:31:19.060+02:00Entry 51: in which One is astonishedDecided 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.<br /><br />Came straight out with it: "Now look here Mrs G; do you remember exactly when and how we first met?"<br /><br />To my astonishment this apparently straightforward question was met with peals of laughter and the response "Oh, you are funny!"<br /><br />And she wandered off cackling to herself.<br /><br />I mean, for goodness sakes!Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03977110666035263322noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-910270354747318491.post-26782257118300788992008-10-08T22:27:00.007+02:002008-10-10T17:32:26.767+02:00Entry 50: in which I reflect on something strangeWith 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?<br /><br />Now bear with me on this one. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />In other words, no, it's not simply a matter of forgetting. Though I'll admit to a certain forgetfulness ...<br /><br />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.<br /><br />I could of course simply ask Mrs God if she remembers how we met, but I hesitate for two reasons <br /><br />(a) she might not remember either which I find disconcerting or <br />(b) she might remember all too well which I find disconcerting <br /><br />None of this is helped by a stupid bit of doggerel that goes round and round in my mind "God finds it odd".<br /><br />Well of course I do.Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03977110666035263322noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-910270354747318491.post-44638598808971017542008-10-03T18:46:00.005+02:002008-10-04T00:43:26.389+02:00Entry 49: in which the clouds have partedGlad 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />The salient facts are these:<br /><br />- Herod's plan to terminate the boy in his earthly form has failed<br />- 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<br />- 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<br />- 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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />We shall see.Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03977110666035263322noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-910270354747318491.post-83967730579240098462008-09-30T22:30:00.008+02:002008-10-12T16:12:05.567+02:00Entry 48: in which we make progress, notThe <a href="http://thegoddiaries.blogspot.com/2008/09/entry-47-in-which-one-is-stumped.html">adjournment</a> gave me time to do a little cogitation. I decided that the words themselves must surely provide clues about their definitions therefore:<br /><br />vision - to see what is needed or what we should be<br />mission - to make it happen<br /><br />Well pleased with this outcome, I reconvened the meeting and ask them how they got on with their own definitions.<br /><br />The same eager cherub immediately leaped to his feet and offered the following:<br /><br />"We think that a vision is conceptual whereas a mission is practical ..." He tailed off, uncertainly.<br /><br />"Perhaps you could give us an example" I suggested.<br /><br />"Well" he ventured "our vision might be to offer outstanding customer care and our mission would then define the steps needed to achieve that. Who are our customers by the way OGO?"<br /><br />The reverie into which I was comfortably settling was rudely shattered by this totally unexpected question.<br /><br />"Our customers ... well yes, good question and not before time if I may say so. Now then, who has an idea of whom our customers might be?"<br /><br />"Perhaps, OMO, all sentient beings?"<br /><br />"Very good" I began but a hubbub soon erupted as others objected to the specificity of this and we finally settled on "bounded, self-replicating, anti-entropic entities capable of maintaining energy and chemical gradients counter to their immediate environments". Er, quite.<br /><br />You will understand that by now my enthusiasm was waning exactly as theirs was apparently waxing.<br /><br />I suggested that we might have time for a short brainstorm on vision before another break. A silence descended, broken alas by another cherub.<br /><br />"How about, OHO, something like the preferred provider of universes everywhere?"<br /><br />"Yeeessss" I began, sorry to choke him off so soon "but we're not really in the multiverse business are we? And we're only dealing with this space-time continuum. So I think there is a wee problem with the plural there."<br /><br />He, however, was unwilling to relinquish multiplicity without a struggle.<br /><br />"Surely OGO we could add another universe to this space-time continuum then?"<br /><br />"Yeeesss, sort of, but I think you'll find that if we did that we would simply have one universe all the same, just a bigger one. After all, that's what the word means. The whole. You can't have two everythings, now can you?"<br /><br />"Well how about preferred provider of the universe then?". Persistent little bugger.<br /><br />"Are there any others? Providers I mean? In which case, how can we be 'preferred'? And from the philosophical point of view, given the universe just recycles itself, do we actually provide it or just sit here, watching it?"<br /><br />Despite logic being on my side, I could tell that my words were as welcome as a cold and persistent nitric acid drizzle.<br /><br />"May I propose, OGO, that we simply note suggestions at this stage rather than analysing them too closely?". Ah, the measured intonation and rather plummy vowels of Lucifer himself.<br /><br />"But of course, Lucy, you're quite right, let's do that".<br /><br />"And if I may build on the previous speaker's excellent suggestion, then how about something like 'the premier redeemer of souls supported by the finest correctional facility offering <a href="http://thegoddiaries.blogspot.com/2008/08/entry-37-in-which-lucy-waxes-strange.html">Holistic Education for Life after Life </a>(H.E.L.L.)".<br /><br />"My goodness, is that the time? Milk and cookies next door everyone".<br /><br />It may be unkind of me, but I rather hope that, in the rush, poor Lucy's idea has been trampled. Perhaps terminally. If so, the only nugget in the dross. <br /><br />(Memo to self "Do not convene any meeetings. Ever.")Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03977110666035263322noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-910270354747318491.post-7830436758052749542008-09-28T12:21:00.005+02:002008-09-28T12:52:45.316+02:00Entry 47: in which One is stumpedThe Stakeholders' Meeting. The usual shiny and eager faces, up for it. Mrs God's not among them, naturally. I tender her apologies, and the lad's.<br /><br />I explain that this meeting is different and special and its purpose is to determine our Vision and Mission. They are suitably impressed, or at least that is what I take the somewhat stunned silence for.<br /><br />Finally one cherub, bolder than the rest, ventures this: "OHO, pray what is the difference between a Vision and a Mission?"<br /><br />I must digress at this point to explain OHO. In these parts folk generally don't call me anything unless they are feeling particularly extravagant. However, in formal meetings it is common for them to prefix remarks and questions with something like OGO, OHO, or OMO. Originally these were shortened forms of Oh Great One, Oh Holy One, Oh Mighty One and so on. Now they have become words in their own right, so I find myself addressed as OHO (as in a short laugh) for example. I'm never quite sure if the speaker is taking the piss, but it seems wiser to assume not.<br /><br />Anyway, back to "OHO, pray what is the difference between a Vision and a Mission?"<br /><br />I own up to a moment of awkwardness here, and realise how unprepared I am, since I haven't the foggiest.<br /><br />Not a problem, I shall simply divine the answer as I usually do. <br /><br />However, when I attempt to do so, astonished to find ... nothing. Now I need to explain that if one attempts to divine an answer and the divination returns "null" it means only one thing - there is no answer to that question, anywhere in the universe.<br /><br />Which explains a something that has always puzzled me, namely the preponderance of consulting firms throughout the sentient universe. Most of which are called McKinsey. Another mystery.<br /><br />Back to the meeting. I fix a beady eye on the cherub (whose name escapes me; well they all look the same, honestly) and announce "Our young friend here has asked an important question. I think it will be instructive for you to mull it over for a while. We will adjourn while you do so. When we resume, I look forward to some creative suggestions ..."<br /><br />And head for the exit before another of the little sods bushwhacks me.Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03977110666035263322noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-910270354747318491.post-91664618834195020862008-09-23T13:43:00.002+02:002008-09-24T20:41:07.377+02:00Entry 46: in which The Ghost is roastedWell well well and three wells make a river.<br /><br />The Ghost is back in the Realm, responding to the opportunity to participate in the next Stakeholders' Meeting. It takes all sorts I suppose.<br /><br />Anyway, tracked him down to give him an earful about the dog's breakfast he made of the lad's "low key" introduction to Earth.<br /><br />Astonished to find him breezily unperturbed by the whole thing.<br /><br />"It was" he intoned "preordaned".<br /><br />"Ah", say I, "and by whom may one enquire?"<br /><br />"Well", he says, "not by anyone as such, just preordaned in the sense that whatever was going to happen, happened".<br /><br />"As in, given you're an arse, a total balls up was inevitable you mean".<br /><br />Well he did have the grace to look somewhat embarrassed at this, but what's the use? I can't stay cross with anyone for any length of time at all, let alone give them a thick ear. Which he richly deserved.<br /><br />Not that he was disconcerted for long. "Water" and "duck's back" come unbidden to mind.<br /><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;color:#996633;">[Editor's note: Once again I am struck by the "Earth Centric" nature of some of the remarks, such as water and duck's back. I have a sneaky but growing suspicion that The Diaries may be syndicated throughout the inhabited universe. Perhaps in some other quarter this entry ends with "Liquid nitrogen" and "pentaquel's vlen".]</span></em>Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03977110666035263322noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-910270354747318491.post-14040045005462327882008-09-21T09:54:00.004+02:002008-09-21T10:07:45.684+02:00Entry 45: in which I call a Stakeholders' MeetingIn my wisdom I have decided to call a Stakeholders' Meeting. The theme, I have decided, is "Our Vision and Mission". See if I can furrow the brows of at least a few cherubim and divert the ever-so-vain archangels from self-admiration for a while.<br /><br />I thought, originally, to distract Mrs God from her rather morose cogitation, but of course I had forgotten that she never attends Stakeholder Meetings. Sneaking admiration for such brazen behaviour, but alas, I have too strong a sense of obligation to do anything so sensible.<br /><br />And another absentee, of course, the lad, whose apologies I suppose I can tender, "in absentia".<br /><br />Only remains, now, for me to get my head around just what this visiony missiony thingy is. <br /><br />Good thing I'm not stupid otherwise I'd be kicking myself for being stupid enough to have thought up this mad event in the first place.Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03977110666035263322noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-910270354747318491.post-46948965450023314412008-09-17T21:03:00.003+02:002008-09-18T23:21:40.995+02:00Entry 44: she wouldn't, would she?Those who have followed these entries will know the following facts about the boy<br /><br />- he has gone space touring (again)<br />- this time the lucky planet is Earth<br />- the planet is insignificant<br />- no one would have heard of it but for the breezing in of Metatron<br />- who apparently hails from Earth<br />- but who is mysterious and not what he seems (I say this in an unofficial capacity)<br />- but I'm getting of the point<br />- the lad was cloned off some sorry lass called Mary<br />- now he's stuck there for the duration of his sorry biological life<br />- Mrs God is not happy<br />- she wants the lad back (why?)<br />- but see "now he's stuck there" point<br />- hmmm<br /><br />Word is that some loony king around the Bethlehem region has taken it into his head that male babies up to the age of 2 year should be killed.<br /><br />I wonder why ...<br /><br />No, she wouldn't, she couldn't. Could she? Ridiculous! A silly coincidence.<br /><br />Tra la la.Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03977110666035263322noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-910270354747318491.post-12634121279843555172008-09-15T17:50:00.005+02:002008-09-15T18:27:14.308+02:00Entry 43: in which we reflect on the passage of timeTime's a funny old thing, in the Realm, as elsewhere. I mean millions of years can pass in the course of a rather lazy afternoon; yet seconds can drag.<br /><br />This is the position in which a rather unhappy Mrs G finds herself. She frets over the few tens of years that must pass before the lad returns. You might think that she could simply get some shut-eye and lo, here he would be, but I fear it's not like that when you are shadowing an entity embedded in a biological form. The timelines are locked for the duration, and one all too soon appreciates the concept of "real time".<br /><br />But, I hear you ask, could she not simply go into the future and be done with delays? Well yes, of course, but this is not something that one does lightly. There is the whole relativism issue, which personally gives me a headache and which (strictly between ourselves) I have some difficultly grasping. It's the old river and bank analogy. Are you on the bank watching the river of time go forward, or are you in the river watching time bank of time go backward, and in which of those modes are you actually standing still in time? Or going forward or going backward? I fear that's what gets me.<br /><br />Of course Mrs G is good with this kind of trivia, so I'm sure she would get it right, but there are other issues. For a start she would almost certainly meet herself and I fear two rather terse Mrs Gods are much, much worse that one. No sooner would one be giving the lad verbal than the other would leap to his defense. And vice versa. It is rather more than even the gormless one deserves. <br /><br />Second, synchronous returns are philosophically pretty well impossible. Return a moment too soon, and you have the meeting yourself problem all over again. Return a moment too late, and you have an gap in your personal time line which is quite enough to induce existential crises.<br /><br />No, the safest thing is to spread out your picnic blanket and sit on the bank waiting for the river of time to pass the requisite number of decades (or the other way round, but we've done this already. Haven't we? Just a moment ago in the past? Ha, ha, just a little cosmic joke there).<br /><br />Anyway, on the assumption that annoyance must sooner or later give way to sentimentality, I think it is time for me to chuck my hat through the door as it were, to gauge how I might be received by herself.<br /><br />Yes, I know what you are thinking, but there are times when it pays to softpedal a bit on the Supreme Being thing. This is one of them.Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03977110666035263322noreply@blogger.com4