The Real, Real Story of Creation

“Don’t piss God off; remember who created the platypus.”

I don’t know how it could have possibly happened, since the place was totally empty. I’m not sure if either of the two even knew each other. You see, they were walking around in this, “Once upon a time”, when they casually bumped into each other. 

“My apologies, I was deep in thought and…,” muttered the first to the second.

Without missing a beat, the second finished that very same sentence with, “…didn’t expect that there was anyone else around.”  

The synchronicity of their exchange startled them out of their respective musings.

They spoke simultaneously, studying each other for a long moment, “Let me introduce myself; I’m God.” 

The look of disbelief reflected on each other’s faces. In unison, they continued, “Do you mock me?” 

Hearing no reply, they shouted in unison, “I am your God!” 

Their faces displayed the confusion of their thoughts. The first thought to themself, “I am the Chicken, and you are the egg.” While the other postulated, “I am the light, and you are the darkness.”  

They slowly sat down, never altering their gaze from each other.

Then a mighty shout rang from each, “I am God, and you are a liar.”

“No, you’re a liar!” 

“No, you’re a liar!”

“Liar!” 

“Liar, liar, pants on fire!”

“Phony!”

“Fibber.”

“Faker.”

“Flake.”

Until only their icy stares and dark silence remained.

Then in a tremendous explosion, a single word shattered the calm:    

“Contest.”

Theirs smiles acknowledged consent.

All smiles, the first God created an unimaginable large rock that he knew the others couldn’t pick up. He leaned back and grinned in premature victory. 

God two stroked her chin in thought, then beamed as she created another God, who she made in her image and likeness. 

This new God nonchalantly bent over and tossed the massive stone aside.   With a mischievous smirk, God three created a rock that God one could not pick up.

God one pondered upon the prodigious Creation and thought to himself, “Oh, it’s on!” he instantly created God four in his image and likeness. Not to be outdone, God four moved the rock, begat a bigger one, and smiled at the galactic stone he created. A sparkling grin graced his face, which spoke, “Top this!”

God three cradled her hands to her face in a mocking pantomime that shouted, “Oh, you are so powerful!” and in the next instant created God five, who not only picked up the stone but created a more massive and, may I add, a more beautiful stone.

Oh, now the “pissing match” got real, heralding a flurry of Gods and rocks, which expanded exponentially until there were more Gods than any single God could count, which necessitated the Creation of yet another God who could tabulate them all. You know, so that they could keep score.

After a while, the contest shifted to who could create a more beautiful rock, or a more colorful rock, or a more populace rock. Or create a more beautiful flower or stranger creature, or smallest this or the most mysterious that. 

In the swirl of Creation, Gods of all sorts explored all the nooks and crannies of creativity. 

A Country/Western God begat a Rapper God. A Folk God begat a Punker God.

She created a Rhythm God, and he made a Blues God. He created a Rocker God, and she spawned a Roller God. 

It was an explosion of Gods, rocks and stuff that filled every space. Since each new Creation resonated with the essence of the God that created it, you guessed it, it all had to be recounted again. Yet another God sprouted forth who was up to that daunting task.

And Gods are a restless bunch, never stopping for lunch; they just kept launching an endless series of creators and creations.

And it never ever stops.

What, you don’t believe me? Well, Bucko, take a gander around. 

Creation never stops from the most massive swirling galaxy that stretches beyond your imagination to a sparkling grain of sand that you hold in the palm of your hand.  

You, each of you, bear witness to that Creation. 

Heck, you are that Creation.  

Look down at that tiny rock in your hand. 

Let your mind harken back to that pissing match that started it all.

Now prepare yourself for the epiphany that will blow your frikken mind.

You are the next God in an infinite sequence of Gods. 

Yes, you! 

I’ll give you all a moment to come to grips with your new title of GOD!

So, my Dear Gods and Goddesses, get to it—manifest something in your image and likeness that lies just beyond the frontier of your wildest dreams. 

I just did.

So, believe me when I tell you:

“It’s on. Oh! It’s on!”

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Listen to this story

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