Arguing about God is pretty funny. Killing people for God would be fuinny too, except it kinda hurts. Dying takes the fun out of so much otherwise cool stuff. I like God, I think He's a he and a pretty okay guy. Jesus was the Antichrist, I'm pretty sure, and I'm working on that for a NSF Grant I'm applying for in January. I think I'll get it. My theory, not the Jesus one, the God one, is that He doesn't really like being God. I mean, how much fun can that be anyway? Knowing everything, doing everything. You know, as soon as you apply a little Aquinas to the guy, He stops making sense and not in a cool way, like David Byrne, but in a sucky way like...Oh, Dan Quayle? (same time frame? close enough) See...You ask a question like, "If God can do anything, can He make a rock so big He can't lift it?" and the answer is "Who cares?" He's God. He made the universe and pushed the start button and now it's out of control. Nobody is running the show least of all Him! He has no idea what's coming next or why, he's watching us like a long, long soap opera, I bet. Probably living in Jersey, in a little studio flat above a porn theater. His girlfriend is a dancer named Molly. She's hooked on everything, but that's why He loves her. She's an angel.
That's like the very smallest little tip of my theory of God and I won't argue it one way or the other. I only refine it, day to day, hour by hour. Last week God was a woman, an older lady who washes my clothes. She wouldn't admit it, of course, but I wasn't fooled. I showed her my tattoo and she smiled. She knew.
God's a tricky bastard, but I see right through Him!