At the midway point of the 21rst Century, God decided that he was weary of the stupidity that the human race was exhibiting regarding his own existence, so he decided to hold a symposium with some of the greatest thinkers in the history of mankind to discuss the subject.
One of the tipping points that drove him to this strange decision was a podcast that claimed that God was in fact a typing monkey referencing the parable that made the rounds in the late 20th Century which implied that given an infinity to work with, a monkey randomly typing would eventually produce all the greatest works of literature ever written.
A twenty-one year old non-binary college professor identifying as a Constitutional Scholar had reached the conclusion that if the parable was true, it would make God the monkey. A movement was born complete with t-shirts, churches, and coffee-cups bearing the image of typing monkey.
Some people had even taken to even juxtaposing the image of a typing monkey over that of crucifix, and the story became something like, "God so loved the world that he gave it a typing monkey who sacrificed its immortality to prove that God exists", never minding the idea that there's no such thing as an immortal monkey in the first place.
God showed Jesus the headline at breakfast the next day with a picture of a monkey typing with a halo hovering above its head. The headline said in big bold letters "Monkey God Labors to Complete Fifty Shades of Gray". Jesus shot orange juice out of his nose, looked at his father, shrugged his shoulders and calmly said, "What you gonna do? People gonna be people."
God said, "I know, I know. It wouldn't have hurt me to have packed a few more brain cells in the prototype. My bad, my bad. I thought we'd work it out over time, but all that free will app screwed things up pretty bad. What I should've done was throw out that initial design and started over, but I loved the way that model looked. I got too close, I admit it. Sue me.
Jesus answered, "What would be the point?"
"Exactly! I thought that you could maybe fix things when I sent you down."
"Don't be putting this on me, Pop. I tried my best. Them humans are hard headed creatures."
God decided that he would gather up some of the smartest people who had ever lived and put them around a table to see what they could come up with.
He read some of the names off the list to Jesus, " William Shakespeare, Albert Einstein, Friedrich Nietzsche, Isaac Newton, Marie Curie, Richard Hawkins, Abraham Lincoln, Sappho, Bill Mahar, Martin Luther King Jr., Buddha, Carl Jung, Mohandas Gandhi, Joan Didion, Malcolm X, Otto Von Bismark, Leo Tolstoy, Christopher Hitchens, Joan D'Arc, Bishop Desmond Tutu, Mother Teresa, Johannes Kepler, and Douglas White."
"Doug White? I hesitated when you said Bill Mahar, but Doug White? Ain't that the retired idiot who writes all that stupid stuff about Corcoran on his blog.
God nodded "I was trying to put some diversity of opinions in the discussion, and I got to the end of the list and decided it needed a representative of the common man. You know, someone who thinks he's smart, but is actually next door to a moron.
"Well, I noticed that you don't have anyone representing the other side of morality. How about Stalin, Torquemada, Hitler, or Chairman Mao?
"Yeah, well I thought about it but they are otherwise occupied."
"Having red hot iron spikes jammed into their anuses for eternity.
"What's so funny."
"Kind of like that typing monkey. I'm sure there is a joke in there somewhere."
" Actually, not real funny."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** ***
The group was divided into three smaller groups and each was a particular set of questions to work out. Group #3 consisted of Mother Theresa, Christopher Hitchens, Friedrich Nietzsche, Carl Jung, Bill Mahar, Sir Isaac Newton and Douglas White.
The 3 questions they were told to discuss were:
1) Does God exist? Explain your answer.
2) What is the meaning of life?
3) What is your favorite/ least favorite quote?
Nietzsche was appointed to be the moderator of the group. Before he even read off the first question, Douglas White was squirming in his seat with hand jerking up and down. Nietzsche acknowledged him grudgingly.
" I bet you feel kind of crunchy!" White blurted out, " I mean saying God is dead and all that."
Nietzsche sighed, " I was taken out of context."
"Yeah right, That's what they all say when you catch them red handed saying something dumb."
Nietzsche responded, "Actually it was considered a pretty profound statement in its day."
"Didn't age that well, Dude. Where I come from there's a saying 'Snitches get Stitches'. If somebody were to go around saying God is Dead out loud somebody's bound to lump them up. Out there, he's a part of the family, and in my hometown family comes first."
Hitchen's muttered in a dry voice, "We'll put you down in the affirmative then."
It was a heated discussion that lasted well over an hour and ended with Bill Mahar referring to those who counted themselves among the believers as "a bunch of f'ing troglodytes."
That was too much for White, who let a little Southside out. He stood up, put his hand on his crotch, and called out to Mahar, "Hey, Bill, guess what I got in my hand, and I'll give you bite."
Mahar snidely answered, "A Vienna sausage,"
Before Mahar could gloat, White fired back, "Correctamundo!" Hitchens fought back the urge to laugh, and even Newton turned to high-five him.
Mother Teresa laughed and said in her high-pitched voice, "Burn!"
The debate on the first question went on some more and lasted way past the time allotted and only ended when Christopher Hitchens gave a very eloquent speech about why he believed that it was pointless for humans to believe that God exists.
"Sounds like somebody got some daddy issues, "White muttered just loud enough for Hitchen's to hear.
Hitchens turned red, and shouted, "Alright Mr. Smarty Pants I'll give you the last word! See if you could come up with something that hasn't been repeated ad nauseum for the last 2,000 years!"
White made a stupid what are you talking to me face he then straightened up in his seat, " You know, Hitch, I've always admired your wit, intelligence, and even the dry sense of humor. I always wanted to be able to talk like you. But then I realized that you only win because your opponents try to reason like you, and you are acknowledged master of logical debate.
First, It came to me that we can't win this argument using logic because the idea of divine purpose transcends all reason. Secondly, I realized that God does not have to prove himself to you or anyone else and arguing that he does is kind of stupid. Thirdly, I came to understand that there is really no reason to deny God's existence. If we go through life just acting like we believe just in case or just to give others hope, then when we die nothing's going to happen to us as a consequence because as you stated life would not have any purpose or meaning.
But if he does exist, then the universe and the world will be vastly better off because people were given hope and hope was realized because of it. I personally would feel lots better for being able to believe that I was something other than some fancy kind of fertilizer. And then I knew that the perfect words to rebut your position would be something like, "Fuck you, Mr. Poopy Pants.'"
God interceded at this point, "Mr. White, I don't believe that's appropriate language to use considering the surroundings."
"Sorry, Lord, I just couldn't handle someone trying to use reason to argue that you don't exist while he's sitting at a table in your house."
" Apology accepted. Now you two hug it out! That's a command."
Later, when they were cleaning up after the symposium, Jesus picked up one of the questionnaires from a table. It had the name Doug White written at the top of the page in cursive. There were a bunch of doodles on the page but where the answer space for the third question was "What is your favorite/least favorite quote?" there was also some writing.
First, there were the crossed out words - He who smelt it, dealt it. On the next line, also crossed out - Lucy, someone got some 'splaining to do.
Then finally, scrawled in red ink - Get'er done.
Jesus picked it up, read it, then crumbled it into a ball and tossed it the black plastic bag he was carrying. He chuckled to no one in particular, "Get'er done! Now that's some funny stuff right there!"