User:Aleister/g
A bit of luck and a wave of a hand is needed to view God's deleted contributions. When you catch God plucking away or wishing sideways at his or her majestic keyboard, which instead of letters and numbers is outfitted with hundreds of thousands of liquid keys and pebble shaped smooth rainbows that she plays in single strings or in infinate multiple combinations like Thelonious Monk on hash oil -- stand way back, because things will be flying at you. Without time and space leaning in to spoil the picture - we are still in the eight day of creation and going strong - contributions of Goddess rise into experiential reality and overspread it rapidly, although the vast majority of his contributions only exist for a zillionth of a nanosecond before she deletes them.
In one point of view, Goddesses' final work product, the one that we get to see all around us right here now, walk through, and knock on with our knuckles, comprises but a thimble-sized tip of what a galaxy-wide iceberg would look like in his constant glance.
So, existing as the vibration of the Divine, all that is or all that could have been will be everywhere at once with time playing its part as if it were real - there-no-not-there curtain on the stage, and the audience pops holographed onto the scene with man's individual considerations filling in the blank spaces, positioned memes of agreed upon wishes and the expecteds tying down much of the rest.
The Nice but irritating cannon[edit | edit source]
People have every right to feel nice, and to see everyone else as feeling nice, up and down the bedrock. God had worked up a Nice but irritating cannon, which gave everyone nice-ness as soon as they were either hit by the projectile in the cannon (Geese, soft and still-healthy when they land geese), could actually see the cannon shot off, or could hear the cannon blast no matter what the distance. Niceness but irritating cannons were going to be set up everywhere, and would have taken up 96% of each nation's military budget. God deleted this.
These things[edit | edit source]
We were all designed to be zooplankton. Each human is hard-wired to have the instincts of a one-celled work-around of a real boy. You can see the people caught in stop motion here, but in real-time everyone is jiggling and bumping into each other's tentacles. They communicate by various leg plummage shakes, and can tell each other to the whisker-length which direction they're swimming in. When Goddess tracked out the long-range future of this zooplankton race, she deleted it.
Call them visitors[edit | edit source]
These guys are hanging out, talking about the hood. They were original God creations, here on the fourth day, and got real tame and smart over time as they saw the other things move at different rates and just blended in. We wouldn't know them from Adam, because God conferred with some of his future no-time time symbols, and the entire view said not to allow flying lioneagles, whatever you do.
Extreme tongue lashings[edit | edit source]
Sandbox: