What do you think?
Rate this book


224 pages, Paperback
First published May 26, 2016
Sleek panthers, enchanting palms, hieratic giraffes, proud plovers, gorgeous orchids, the softest, greenest moss, shiny ladybugs, adorable daisies.
Contemporary so-called artists display washing machine parts, driftwood, bodies that have been run through, scrap iron, photographs of genital organs and aged corpses, polystyrene chips, medicine bottles, naked women, even just their own excrement, and the public pretends to be mildly interested. In this age of screens and globalised idiocy, nobody seems to know how to hold a brush. (p.79)
An eternity went by before they realised that their blessed Earth is a mere speck in the Solar System, in turn a piddly little mite in the Milky Way, one negligible molecule in the vastness of the universe. Only my great patience kept me from taking serious umbrage. And to top it off, rather than finally recognising my merits, rendering unto Caesar that which is Caesar's, (that boy of mine, the one reputed to be my boy at any rate, had a knack for catchy sayings), now they're spreading the rumour that the universe created itself. That it sprang forth from nothing, like a mushroom: Big Bang, and there's your rabbit, folks. (p.13)
Honestly, I don’t like to watch some things human beings do. But as you can imagine there’s no roof nor wall nor duck blind nor sheet nor wile that stands in the way of a god; unfortunately I must put up with all of it.
I really can’t explain why, among the many, not to say infinite, possibilities out there, my gaze always seems to come to rest on the Milky Way. And why within the Milky Way, which is really not so tiny, my sights are trained on the Solar System, and particularly on that two-bit planet that’s barely visible, Earth. And why on Earth, infinitesimal as it is and provided with many other attractions, my eye zooms in on the tall girl with two purple pigtails who at every opportunity is shoving her arm up a cow’s ass.
I am God, and I have no need to think. Up to now I’ve never thought, and I’ve never felt the need, not in the slightest. The reason human beings are in such a bad way is because they think; thought is by definition sketchy and imperfect—and misleading.
Don’t ask me how I came to be God, because I myself have no idea. Or rather I do know, just as I know everything, but it would take eons to put into words, and quite frankly, I don’t think it’s worth it. My rank (let’s call it that) alone guarantees a certain degree of credibility.