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And God saw that it was… ‘Bugger,’ said God. He’d nearly done it, this time; nearly kept his new Earth and its moon apart long enough for Adam to appear. This time, he’d even got as far as evolving birds before his left arm had tired and the two worlds he’d orchestrated were sent crashing together. God stood upon the universal pubis, Gaia’s short and curlies dancing and swaying like living tundra before him. He wept as he watched his birds thrown out into the fiery depths of space. He rather liked birds with their nice colours and darling songs; much more so than the bloody dinosaurs that had grown up the time before. But soon these birds would choke on the purple clouds, would explode in vacuous space, and God would be left alone and feeling a bit daft in his elongated fez, with nothing alive to sing his praises and throw him prayers. What life would that be for a God of all things? God sighed. How long would it take to squeeze another set of planets from Gaia’s lightless parts (sorry, Caroline :-)? And what would she say when He told her she’d have to pass more planetary orbs from an orifice no bigger than a singularity, and before He’d even invented gas and air? She’d not been too thrilled the first time around. ‘What’s needed,’ said God, ‘is a bit of a tinkering with the constants. An inverse square law for gravity might work, and a dropping of the charge on the electron wouldn’t harm…’ But deep down He knew what was really needed. Order; order from chaos, and the problem was that being God and moving in mysterious ways and all, He tended to be more suited to chaos. Order implied logic, and logic defied Faith, and where would He be without Faith? God pushed his way to the edge of the universal pubis. He stared down at the dark abyss between Gaia’s legs. Perhaps there was another way? Perhaps if he arranged for the raw materials to be ejected in some sort of flatulent bang, the quarks and gluons and spins and strangeness, the parts rather than the finished product, things would sort themselves out and He could leave Adam to it? It would mean not interfering, of course, not even if He was tempted, not even if Adam begged. God grinned; the more He thought of it, the more it sounded like a splendid way for a God to behave. ‘Gaia, darling,’ said God. ‘Good news – have you been this morning…?’
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