In the beginning God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. It illuminated the universe and showed an expanse of what God expected to be stark, beautiful nothing.
But there was something.
One look at that something and God fucking turned out the lights and bailed. Good call on God’s part, really.
Nobody heard from God for a long time after that.
It wasn’t for many immeasurable units of infinity later that someone else came by and decided to turn the lights back on. He didn’t really have a name; let’s just call him…
Let’s just call him God II.
So in the New Beginning, God II said, “Can I get some fucking light up in here?”
And there was light.
It illuminated the universe and showed God II exactly what it was that had sent the old God packing.
God II said, “I can work with this.”
What God II did was not tremendously different from what the original God would have done. He still spoke into existence the sky, the sea, the earth, the night and day, the living creatures, the flora and fauna, the circle of life, and yes—even Man.
But yet, there was still that dark something that had scared the old God off. That something that could never be erased, that something that God had feared would ruin anything He tried to create so He chose instead not to create at all.
God II, he created things anyway. And while he couldn’t destroy the something, he could decide what to do with it. So he put it in Man.
All of it.
Maybe, if he’d split it up among all the atoms in Creation, things wouldn’t have been so bad. Hell, even if it had just been all the animals it still would have been better. But no; every last bit of the something went into Man.
It’s somewhat like cleaning a messy room by throwing all of the mess into the closet.
Sure the room looks awesome, but the closet is fuuuucked.
God II didn’t care though.
God II actually found it quite interesting.
So for a while, he watched.
After a long time, Man learned to control the something within him, learned to keep it at bay and not allow it to ruin everything around him. This, God II found boring. So he decided to shuffle the cards again, decided to let Man know just who the fuck was boss. God II did this by writing a book. He called it the Bible.
Conceptually, the Bible wasn’t much different from the book the original God would have written had He been so inclined to write a book in the first place. It told of the origins of Creations, of the histories of men and angels that existed long before anyone reading the book came to be. It told of its author’s omnipotence, of his grace and love, of his bad habit of killing anyone who opposed him in brutally ironic fashion.
Really, the only difference was, the original God would have told the truth. God II took some creative liberties. So many, in fact, that the entire book ended up being nonsense. Sometimes God II would look back on what he had written, realize it was hypocritical or inconsistent, and just shrug it off and move to the next chapter. Half the time, he literally just wrote, “Insert meaning here”, a request that Man had no trouble fulfilling, thanks to the something that God II had put inside him. Then they started straight up changing shit that God II had written, so much so that by the time a version was finalized, only two words of God II’s original text remained: The Bible.
Even that had been bastardized, though. See, Man didn’t think “The Bible” had a good enough ring to it, so he added the word “Holy” in the middle to make people take it more seriously.
It worked. People swore by that book. People lived by that book.
God II watched over the years and the centuries and the millennia as Man continued be Man and for a while it was fun. Not fun in a fun way, but fun in a what-the-actual-fuck way. Things got so crazy that after a while God II actually decided to write another book, this one a one-hundred-percent true account of humanity from start to finish with nothing left out and nothing sugar-coated. It was several billion pages in length and the cover was printed in stardust. He mailed a copy to the original God and God wrote back, This is what I was afraid would happen.
Eventually God II got bored again, thought humanity had run its course. He thought about ending the project, thought about starting over.
Then Man went and invented the Internet.
“Well,” said God II. “This changes everything.”
So God II went up to the Internet and said, “I was wondering if you’d be interested in ghostwriting a book for me.”
The Internet said, “What kind of book?”
God II showed him the book he’d written, the several-billion-page tome bound in stardust. The Internet read it in about five seconds.
“It’s good,” said the Internet. “But what do you want from me?”
“I want you to write a sequel,” said God II. “Leave nothing out. Make it multilayered even; use images, sound bytes, videos, whatever. One day I’m going to show this to Man just to see how he reacts to it. It’ll be like showing a teenager home movies from when he was a baby.”
The Interned laughed. “That’ll be hilarious.”
“So are you in? You're the only one who can do it.”
“Hm," said the Internet. "Are you sure about this? I've only been around for a few years and already I've seen things that nobody would ever want to remember about themselves, things they would erase if they could."
"Oh I know," said God II. "I want every second of it. Leave nothing out."
The Internet thought for a moment, thought long and hard about whether Man deserved this, about whether anyone deserved it, and ultimately decided that if, in fact, anyone did deserve it, then that someone was definitely, unquestionably, most certainly Man.