Creative God Theory

“No, what I’m getting at is what makes God, God.”

Curtis sat silent for a moment.

“What?”

“God. What makes God, God.”

“I figured being God was always the sole criteria”

“But is it? Is it really that circular? What makes him God? Was he chosen? Elected? Did he will himself into being like some old legends say? If so, where did he will himself from? To will yourself into being would imply a pre-existing cognizance, right?”

“Yeah.. I guess….”

“And from there, we assume God is omnipotent, omniscient, and omnipresent”

“That’s the general western consensus I think”

“But what do we have to base any of this on? What impirical evidence has ever been gathered? A couple of second hand accounts of supposed eye witnessed events? God communicating through burning bushes and pillars of fire. Why the smoke and mirrors? Is God actually able to exist in this world? Or is he made of fire?”

“Alright, I don’t know much about theology, but I don’t think that God is made of fire”

“Alright, maybe not. But then what of? Has it been the same God all this time, or has the title changed hands? If so, what causes the change? Is God a life time appointment or honor? Where does God really exist?”

“Alright, where is this going?”

“I hypothesize that what makes the entity we refer to God is the creative ability. We are all here as a result of some beings creative imagination.”

“I guess that’s one way to look at it…”

“There are many ways to look at. That is my point. There are many realities, many views on the same reality. Perhaps reality is different to every individual.”

“You been reading Descartes again?”

“No. I’m not stopping there anyways. What I am getting at is what seperates us from God?”

“Infinite power?”

“But how do we know that?”

“Huh?”

“Exactly. We don’t. We believe because of a lack of options and no evidence to go on. But what if we created a world from our imagination that we could never actually go to, but could interact with through writing new parts to the story, or making up new characters? Then what would the denizens of that reality have to gage us by?”

“They would have to surmise about us through-“

“Experiencing what we create.”

“Alright, you’re starting to make my head hurt”

Of The Heart

A conversation I had in my mind many times as a youth:

 

Jacob: What does your heart tell you?

Killian: My heart? As if something as transient as emotion could ever tell me anything..

Jacob: Obviously it is emotion that is at the core of your current frustration.

Killian: Exactly. Which is why I can not rely on it. On what I feel. It changes from moment to moment, and leaves me with only questions and the clinging left overs of desire.

Jacob: So your philosophy on love remains unchanged.

Killian: Yes, I am afraid so. I’m afraid that when it comes to love I have to go with the evidence and not what I want to believe.

Jacob: So you are just reaffirming that you were correct from the start?

Killian: In a way I suppose. But I wanted so badly to be wrong this time…

Jacob: Then why give up?

Killian: There is nothing more for me to do

Jacob: With this particular situation, yes. Why most you always pound against stone? Why try to fix something long after the pieces have blown away?

Killian: A desire to believe?

Jacon: Or perhaps a desire to cling to loss.

Killian: What?

Jacob: Exactly what I said. A desire to cling to loss. As long as you only pursue the goals you have no real chance of attaining, you will always fail, and thus, your philosophy can remain unchanged. You are safe in your own discontent and misery.

Killian: That is absolute nonsense.

Jacob: Is it?

Killian: Why would I keep doing something like that to myself?

Jacob: I have been posing that same question for some time.

Tornado Cloud

The pounding outside of her house had kept her awake for most of the night. It had been the most violent storm to hit southern Wisconsin in several years. The rain beat against the side of the house in sheets and waves while thunder shook the walls. Kaitlin had lain awake for nearly three hours. Lightning had knocked the power out before midnight, so there was little else to do now except await the much yearned for embrace of sleep. After the most recent foundation jarring wave of thunder, Kaitlin sat bolt upright, more out of aggravation than any actual fear.

The decided to light and candle and walk downstairs to stair out the window into the night. Precious little could be made out, but it made the time go by. Leaves blew through the air and twigs and small branches tumbled across the ground. Flashes of lightning would illuminate the entire forest outside her window. Kaitlin had always been struck with how ominous and foreboding the forest around her house looked when illuminated by lightning.

She watched the trees sway violently amid the torrent and rain. Her eyes were drawn toward the heavens where the lightning would zigzag across the sky, giving sudden shape to the cloud covered night sky. Then something strange caught her eye. There seemed to be some sort of roiling amidst the clouds. She could catch the briefest of glimpses of the cloud movement, or movement within the clouds. She could not tell for sure. When it flashed again, and she could sure there was some sort of movement in the clouds, she rushed into the basement with a blanket. She crouched down between two support walls in the center.

She could here the thunder echo through the air again. Now instead of annoying, the thunder was dreadful and threatening. She listened for the tell tale sounds of a tornado. The wind continued to blow. The thunder continued to echo across the night sky. Yet the distinct sound of a tornado never presented itself. She waited for what she guessed to be the better part of thirty minutes and still nothing.

She listened intently in the stillness of the house, which contrasted so greatly with the torrent outside. She crept carefully toward the window, keeping the blanket wrapped tight in case glass should suddenly spray inward. Tempting fate, she ventured a gaze outside.

The outside was terribly dark. Lightning flashed in the distance. Even though the thunder was still loud and menacing, the lightning seemed very far away, in all directions. Each flash would illuminate the edges of the sky but not the center. Perhaps the storm was traveling onward. She could not account for the sudden darkness. Still she was glad there was not a tornado coming and decided to attempt sleep again.

As she ascended the stairs back to her room, she felt an odd pressure change. The walls of the house seemed to sigh heavily, as though the entire house were settling at once. She froze in terror in the stairway, fearing that she had missed some sure sign of the tornado. It was now wrapped around the house itself!

She creeped back down the stairs to be closer to the ground. She wrapped the blanket tightly around her. The front of the house had a large front window, and Kaitlin decided not to venture to close to it in case tornado force winds were just outside the house. As she was contemplating her next move, the front window shattered inward with great violence. What looked to be an immense tree branch came through the window.

In sudden fright, Kaitlin ran back up the stairs to get away from the tree limb and spraying glass. She ran up the stairs to the emotional safety of her bedroom. As she opened the door to her room, something far worse then a tornado awaited her.

An immense, inhuman eye stared emotionlessly through her window, as though it had been waiting for her. The eye was so large that the edges of it were beyond the view of the window panes. The eye seemed at once to stare blankly and yet transfixed upon her. Its gaze remained, unblinking, set upon her. She crawled backward into the hall. The heavy sighing of the walls now took on an even darker tone than she had originally surmised. As she crawled further from the horrific eye, down the stairs, she felt the slick, slimey tendril constrict around her ankle. She was too frightened to scream.


***

The house was excavated by fire crews the next day. People in the area had seen the strange swirling clouds and the only assumption could be that a tornado had demolished the house. Despite their best efforts however, Kaitlin's body was never found.