The sun heated Maricopa County to 120º F that day, which released the toxins into the soil. The poison traveled to the rest of the country, but in Phoenix the flora began to die immediately: the saguaros, mesquite, Joshua trees, crucifixion thorns. All gone.

God had told me to skin the world alive, and I did by turning the Earth acidic. By the time the kids started coming out from school, parents were ready with pogo sticks and stilts to pick them up. The kids thought it was fun until they started to fall on the ground. Very few of them survived.

Food and water started to run out, and then all the vital public services began to crumble. Water went unprocessed, raw sewage filled the streets, and there was no electricity. People started to eat their babies, but worst of all there was no air conditioner.

God, who was falling out of fashion at the time, had always resented the Earth’s lasting firmness of purpose, and all the meaning humans imbued her with. By creating a catastrophe of this scale, He hoped to teach people to accept the meaninglessness of the universe. He hated the metaphoric readings of creation, the pagan impulse of ascribing meaning and intelligence; for example, crabs are not crabs but the devil. That kinda shit.

But what made him lose it were the little charlatans that called themselves his messengers and would say things offensive to morality and truth, and to him in particular. For example, that 9/11 was God’s punishment for allowing abortionists, feminists, and gays. To start with, God was a Noam Chomsky type of hardcore liberal and a radical feminist. He made many mistakes during the first seven days and abortionists were his attempt to rectify some of them. He was an atheist too. He preferred a sort of vaguely Buddhist meditation practice with no epistemological commitments. Anyway, he had already given them a story thousands of years ago that delegitimized suffering: the story of Job. He also sent them his only son. Since they loved attributing meaning to things, he thought they would have figured out that what died on the cross was the very thing they thought guaranteed the meaning of their lives: God!

The Earth, who does not need to conceptualize to exist laughed at God’s neurotic obsession, ordered him to bed, and made a note to refill his Xanax prescription. She was relieved to hear that he had finally bought the lie that Jesus Christ was his son, and would hopefully now stop accusing her of sleeping around.

-Mictian Carax

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