What do you mean, if? I do rule the world. For goodness sake, I was the one who thought the whole creation thing up in the first place. Don’t you people understand anything? Clearly not. That was the big mistake I made, of course, you lot, people. The world without you would have been just fine, but I had to go and set you up as the species who would look after the world for me, the way I wanted it looked after. Silly me. I gave you intelligence. I gave you free choice, of a kind anyway. I made you in my own image too. What was I thinking of? Sheer hubris. I admit it, I got it wrong the first time. But being God has its advantages. If I want a second chance, I have a second chance. And this time, believe me, I shall do it right.
Write to Prospect magazine, I thought, tell them what’s coming, warn them, just so they know it’s God that rules. A bit of history might be helpful first, since most of you don’t know any, and those who do may not believe it. As some of you might know, I tried flooding before—big time—but when I look back, I left it too late. There were simply too many Noahs down there, already too clever by half, too many boatbuilders, too many arks. Which is why the floods didn’t achieve what I really wanted.
My idea was to wipe out mankind and womankind almost entirely, but not quite, so that never again could you could set yourselves up as tyrants over the rest of the earth, my earth. Never again could you think of yourselves as gods. Never again could you inflict the horror and suffering of war on the world. You weren’t made like that, you became like that. But I messed up. I wasn’t ruthless enough. This time I’ll minimise humanity, make you so scarce you hardly count. And I shall choose my Noah better. I will make sure that the new Noah and his kind will be wise and generous-hearted, not manipulative, arrogant, selfish, war-like and greedy. For them the party’s over. You can tell them that from me.
So it’s wipeout time again, people. This time, my plan is foolproof. A sudden ice age is all I need to do the job. Mankind, arrogant as ever, will of course think he’s brought it on himself, which I suppose he will have, in a way. As God I shall simply be hurrying up the whole process of your so richly deserved destruction. I shall encircle the globe in a freezing shroud of ice and snow. Those creatures I want to survive will survive, I’ll make sure of it. But this time round, both man and mosquito will be strictly limited—yes, alright, I admit it, the mosquito was a mistake too.
It will no doubt surprise some readers of this august magazine to learn that, as God, I am both a creationist and evolutionist. I mean, think about it. Who do you suppose pointed Charles Darwin in the right direction in the first place. Accident? No, God-given evolution. (My miscalculation was not to have provided more Darwins and Mozarts and Shakespeares). Of course it’s all about natural selection, but I do the selecting.
So back to the Big Freeze. It will last a few decades, a century maybe, during which time the earth will have cleansed itself sufficiently—it’s quite capable of that, I got that bit right—and a renewed and better world can begin. And those of you that do survive, the very few—not the happy few necessarily, rather the thoughtful few—will have learnt the lesson, that you have to share what has been provided for you, live in harmony with one another and with your fellow creatures, and nurture the world about you. This time, I’ll get it right.
Of course you could avoid the whole unpleasant and rather chilling experience; you could put things right yourselves. You could abandon all war and oppression. Simply ban it. It’s easily done. There’s a wonderful anthem I hear you sing in Europe sometimes—and when it comes to wars, you Europeans have been the worst of all, by the way—about how all peoples of all nations are brothers and sisters, all part of the same family. Great tune, great words. But, for God’s sake, don’t just sing it! Join hands across the seas across the nations, yes, and across the religions too, and learn to live in peace and freedom. I doubt you will though. I have rather lost faith in you, just as so many of you have lost faith in me. But it’s not too late, never too late.
