It’s a long story, and I must tell it all in great detail as much as I can remember, because I know how much scientists love details.
Okay, here goes…………….,
Inside the old vinyl record shop that my Godparents used to own, I was rooting around in the “very old” section. Among and in-between the old Jazz and Blues and even older “caveman-throat singing” records piled around all over the place, I came across a record case, jacket, cover, whatever the fuck it’s called, and would you believe it, this one particular case spoke to me, in a language I couldn’t understand, and which actually sounded like complete gobbledygook to be honest. This special record case had written across it in what looked like blood, but upon closer inspection turned out to be ancient raspberry jam, the words “Secret of the Universe”. I was less intrigued than I expected to be, but I was a little bit bored, so I opened up the case and shook it a little to see if there was any actual record in it. Post case-shaking revealed no physical record, but something else fell out. It was a piece of paper. I quite like paper and the way that the pages of old books smell. I raised the mystery bit of paper to my nose, preparing my face for the sniff of a damn lifetime. It turned out to be a lot longer than a lifetime, in fact. As I sniffed, I was changed forever. My mere 70 or so years of lifespan where shot out into infinity in all directions simultaneously. My lifetime had exploded into a virtually endless series of branches and bubbles and sparks and possibilities………and the paper smelled fucking brilliant, too!
Approximately 37 seconds after I had sniffed the paper – or rather, 20 millions years, in my new infinite lifetime, I began to see near-spherical shapes beginning to form. New colours I’d never seen before were blinking in and out of existence every nanosecond. I was scared out of my mind, and may have in fact wet my pants. I would’ve checked my pants for dampness, but changing pants in my new lifetime would’ve probably taken a billion years.
Floating around with no apparent powers or abilities, I found myself rather bored. “I’m so God damned bored”, I said. The exact instant after I said this, a man appeared on the horizon of the multiverse. This man looked old and frail. He approached me very quickly in a graceful floating elegance. He floated right up to me, so close in fact, he was within sniffing distance! He spoke to me in an upper class British accent. He said, “Hello dear chap. My name is William Godfrey, “God” for short. It’s not very often I see a new face around these parts. What’s your name, dear fellow?” I replied, “My name is Andrew and where the hell am I?” “Oooh, don’t say hell. That’s a naughty word.” I said “sorry, God”. He explained to me that he was infinitely old and wise. He was the guy who sold the vinyl record shop to my Godparents, in fact. He went on to explain that he was also infinitely bored and fed up with it all. I said “hold on. You’re God?” “The God?” He replied, “I am one of many Gods. Our family, the Godfreys, go way back. We invented the vinyl record actually, even though no one believes us”. “I sniffed the very same bit of paper you just sniffed, several billion years ago.” “This is insane”, I said. “You haven’t seen anything yet”, God said.
William Godfrey took me by the hand, and took me on a guided tour of the multiverse. He showed me the Great Fields of Blackness. He walked with me through the Trillion Year Old Forests of Cash Registerland. He even let me throw a few pebbles across the Grand Lakes of Whisky Puddle On The Floor. I asked God if he ever felt alone and meaningless in a multiverse that has only ever been inhabited by 4 people – himself, myself, Molly Meldrum and a homeless guy who just wandered in to sniff paper and glue. He explained that he wasn’t too bored or alone. He was resigned to his fate. A fate of floating around pretty much aimlessly in an endless multiverse. I wasn’t sure whether I would ever be able to get out of this place I was now in. God didn’t offer much in the way of consolation or advice. Actually, he was a bit more snobbish and rude than I thought he’d be.
After 9 quadrillion years of exploring and meandering, I too was resigned to my fate. My fate of eternally doing not much. William Godfrey announced to me that he was thinking about retiring. I thought to myself, “I must be near the top of the list of people to replace God”. Indeed I was. I was at the top of the list, in fact. I took over from God. The interview was rough though. Twenty eight million years of questions it took, but eventually I was made overseer of the Multiverse. And I was glad. I had youthful, idealistic plans to mess up the joint and do totally new things. I wanted to reform the Multiverse and its archaic ways. But alas…….I left everything as it was in the end, because I was bored and feeling tired. I never saw much of God after I was made ruler. Occasionally he’d pop in to say hello, or to borrow some sugar. Just recently, and I mean 34 billion years ago, God died. I held a very small funeral for Him. I buried Him in the Multiversal Basement, next to the records and bits of paper He loved so much. I miss Him. He was a tough old codger, but he was my only company. Oh well, hopefully a new young face will appear in this Multiverse some day……….
It’s hard being God. No one is here to talk to you. No one is here to joke around and have a laugh with. You create and engineer so much, but yet, none of your creations can even comprehend what you are! You are the very definition of lonely and bored. God, I hope that one day, a young idealisitc person will appear into this Multiverse so that I can groom them to take over the adopted-family business. I haven’t had one single vacation from this God career. Oh, how I long for a Vodka and cranberry juice………………..A God can wish, I suppose.