Dialogues with God 1

It is said that the conversation went something like this, though I have my doubts:

God, we've fucked up!

God: What’s the matter, why are you looking so glum?

Man: Why d'you think?

G: Come on, don’t play games, tell me.

M: It’s this fucked-up world of ours, that’s what it is.

G: ‘Fucked-up world’? What do you mean?

M: Yeah, fucked-up world, you know what I mean.

G: I’m not sure I do, but even if it is in... err.. poor shape, you only have yourselves to blame. I gave you humans a wonderful place to live, more than you probably deserved, and you’ve… well… gone and spoilt it.

M: Maybe, but YOU made us and you must’ve known we’d fuck it up sooner or later.

G: You overestimate me. I may have made mankind but I had no way of knowing you’d make such an unholy mess of things.

M: But you made us what we are and part of what we are is to fuck up everything around us. That's what we do.

G: Well, that’s only part of you, as you say, most of you is good.

M: I don’t know about that.  I don't think the rest of us is much better, it's just one step away from the part that fucks up.

G: Oh come on, it isn’t sooooo bad, is it?

M: Oh no? Have you taken a look around lately? Have you seen the state of the world? We’re poisoning the air we breathe, tearing up the land we live on, dumping shit in the seas we fish in, wiping out the animals and plants, killing each other in all sorts of crazy wars, eating up the planet, and trashing the environment everywhere. Isn’t that bad enough?

G: Hmmm… I must admit I have noticed some dysfunctional behaviour lately.

M: ‘Dysfunctional’? There’s the understatement of the year! It’s fuckin' suicidal, mate.

G: Hmmm… well if you know you’re making such a mess of everything, why don’t you do something about it instead of whining about it to me?

M: Cos we can’t. You're the only one who can.

G: What do you mean you can’t?

M: Exactly that. We can’t do anything about it cos of the way you’ve made us, and you won't do anything about it cos you don't want to.

G: ‘The way I’ve made you?’ Don’t talk silly. And it's not for me to interfere.

M: There’s nothing silly about it. You’ve made us the way we are and to do the things we do. We kill and destroy cos that’s how you’ve programmed us. We don’t know any better.

G: That’s nonsense. Of course you know better. Anyway, what about free will?

M: Free will? Doesn’t exist, mate. It’s one of those myths. Sounds good and everyone gets all worked up over it but it’s just a myth. We’re hard-wired to piss on everything around us.

G: ‘Hard-wired’ to do what?

M: You heard. You’ve deliberately created us with a serious inbuilt flaw.

G: Oh really? And why would I do that?

M: Cos you’re a sadist. You’ve created us with the instinct to be destructive, so you could sit back and enjoy the action. It’s gone like clockwork for you and you’re loving every minute of it.

G: Don’t talk soft, man! Do you think I wanted this? I know you started off on the wrong foot but I was hoping that, given enough time, mankind would sort things out.

M: We’ve sorted things out alright. We’ve fucked everything up good and proper! And there's no unsorting it now.

G: Well ok, I must admit things are not looking too rosy at the moment, but the show’s not over yet.

M: Not for you, maybe, but the curtain's about to come down on us any minute now.

G: Oh come on, it can't be that bad.  Can it?

G: Oh no? Well take a good look around and tell me again if it can't be that bad.

G: Well, however bad it is, it could be worse, a lot worse.

M: Yeah, sure, we could all be stone dead already!

G: Well there you are then! Just be thankful for small mercies.

M: Oh I am, I am. Just because we’re busy blowing one another away, killing everything that moves and a lot that doesn't, putting shit into our environment and ripping up the planet we live on doesn’t mean things are going badly for us.

G: That’s more like it! All is not lost. And it’s not over till the fat lady sings.

M: Trouble is the fat lady HAS sung, and not just once but lots of times. We’re definitely living on borrowed time now.

G: Oh come now, it isn’t that bad… is it??

M: Not that bad? How can you say that? Have you taken a look round lately? Our species, your single-handed creation, is pumping shit into the air, tearing up the land, poisoning the seas, killing off all plant and animal life, wasting each other in shit-crazy wars, overruning the planet, and buggering up the environment everywhere, and….

It was evidently going to be a long night, as the dialogue was now in playback mode and, I dare say, you know what’s coming next. So, regardless of the outcome of this exchange, I leave you to be the judge of whether we’ve fucked up our planet or not and, perhaps more crucially, whether the fat lady has sung… or not.