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I met God the other day

I was wandering about town and stumbled upon an old feller sitting on a bench at a bus stop. “Hello,” I said.


“Hello,” he said, “I’m God, how do you do.”

“That’s interesting,” I said, “I was just thinking about you.” And, not wishing to appear rude, I gently asked if he could prove it.

“Indeed I can,” he said, “what would you have me do?”

“Well if you are God, you know everything about everything, so let’s start with something easy. How about you tell me what I’m going to do next.”

God studied me from beneath his bushy eyebrows. I have to admit, he looked pissed off but heaved a great sigh before saying, “How the hell should I know, you’ve got free will, haven’t you? I gave it to you for Christ’s sake!”

“Fair enough,” I said, prepared, as I was, to cut him some slack. “So what can I get you to do that’ll prove you are who you say you are?” I asked.

He stared into space for so long that I almost gave up the will to live. Finally, he spoke, “There is one thing which, as far as I’m aware, will prove it to you.”

“Oh yes, and what is that pray?”

“You could ask me to tell you that I don’t exist.” He got to his feet, rather unsteadily I thought, and stepped up to the kerb.

“Oh, that’s deep,” I said, “God telling me there is no God,” I spoke to his back as he peered up and down the road, presumably checking to see if a bus was coming.

“Yes,” he said, scratching his stubbly chin. “I’m saying it will prove that the all-seeing, all-knowing everlasting God you see standing before you, does not exist. Off the top of my head, it’s the only thing I can think of.”

I was sceptical, “OK, but may I ask you a question first?”

“Of course, you may. Fire away.” He stepped off the pavement and into the road.

“Do you always tell the truth?” That’ll show him I’m no pushover when it comes to matters of deep philosophical hypotheses. I watched him pause for a moment before turning to face me.

“Hmm,” he said ponderously. “No. No, I don’t. But I do tell it as it is, was, and shall be.” His last words were almost drowned by a squeal of brakes and a sickening thud.

The old feller was killed by a white van that came out of nowhere. At the time of the accident, the driver was speaking angrily to the Child Support Agency on her mobile phone.

Existence is determined by the potential to not exist.


Comment below or write to me: rod@rivenrod.com

©Rivenrod 2016

Picture: Jon Cooper

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