HI, I’M GOD
by Jon Rappoport
SEPTEMBER 25, 2011. Hi, I’m God, and I created reality, and you live in it. I made you, and you’re tuned up to fit into the reality I devised. Enjoy!
I’ll tell you a little juicy secret, right off the bat. I became God because nobody else was, and I perceived a need and I filled it. That’s the essence of all good business.
At first, I wasn’t dedicated to morality. In fact, I considered it a convenient disguise for clandestine activity. Not my own, but that of my people, my creations.
But later, when I examined the mess humans were making of their societies, I decided to try my hand at righteousness and vengeance, and commandments.
In retrospect, this was probably a mistake. Humans will make anything, it seems, a cause for killing.
Anyway, I’m a bit more interested in philosophic questions. For example, if I created humans, do they have freedom? Or are they androids? I confess I don’t know. It’s a fascinating field of study, and I guess someone will come up with the answer one day. Part of the reason I stick around is to discover the punch line.
Then there is the matter of reality itself. Once upon a time, there was none. At least not in the sense you people define it. It was quite flexible, and lots of us were inventing it. We were, dare I say it, artists. I know many of you don’t like the term. You associate it with despicable types who believe they’re entitled to special treatment. With us, it was simply a matter of putting things where there were no things before. We arose each morning and did it.
You take reality far too seriously. You’re dedicated adherents, as if we’re talking about religion.
And at this juncture, I have a confession to make. To say I created humans is simplistic. I SAY I did. I ASSUME I did. But you see, all this happened during a confusing period when a bunch of us were inventing at a tremendous pace. We kept no records, and it was all happening with such exuberance that no one cared. Then, all of a sudden, there you were. You were ensconced in a reality bubble, and you were spouting all sorts of religious prose—it was this I took advantage of.
I called down, I spoke in quasi-poetic utterances, I intervened on occasion, and you were sold.
This has been suggested to me, and I find it feasible—it’s possible some of my former colleagues decided to see what life could be like inside a bubble, and so they descended and injected themselves into what you call humanity.
Wherever I look on Earth, I hope to discover at least a few people who realize that pure creation—of the kind we here still do—is the basis for all existence, and no superstructure of doctrine is necessary to explain it. Alas, I’m disappointed. Apparently, you prefer to live according to another rulebook, the nature of which remains a mystery to me.
After all, it’s inconceivable that you want to remain in your bubble, and creation is the key to escape. But this eludes you.
Any one of you can do what I do, and perhaps even more. Since you haven’t concluded this, I stay busy with projects elsewhere and check back in now and then.
While I’m at it, let me make it clear that “the universe” is not a wish-fulfillment machine. Where did you ever get that idea? Was it from a woman named Oprah?
And here is another one. No one cares what you think. Thinking, per se, doesn’t determine what happens to you. Those who came up with this bit of theory, and those of you who’ve bought it, simply have too much time on your hands. You want to believe what you do with that time (ruminate) has some intrinsic value. Sorry to disappoint you, but no. It’s a minor activity. IMAGINATION, without boundaries, put into action, is the cardinal virtue. Some of the old Tibetan magicians, about 1500 years ago, saw that. Soon they were expelled into the outer darkness by their priests, who were busy with prayer wheels and prostrations and what-not.
What else? I loved Lenny Bruce. He’s with us here now. He’s still doing stand-up, and he’s on tour. We have a number of vibrant venues. Small clubs, mostly. The audiences are smart. Even literate. Lenny keeps us on our toes. His bullshit detector is peerless.
I could register a number of complaints about your religions, since I seem to be the subject of their massive efforts. But I won’t bother. If you can’t see through all that, you’re in reverse gear.
Oh, I almost forgot. If you think Nice and Polite is going to result in a better world, I’d have to say, in my experience, I’ve never seen it work as a primary guiding principle. It’s usually just another fascism in the catalog of fascisms.
You know, there was a time in your history I seriously strategized about my market share. I was looking to expand it. But I gave that up. You wanted to surrender yourselves to some Ultimate Whatever. That really annoyed me. Of course, there was nothing I could do. If I came down there, during those dark days, my mere presence would have exacerbated exactly what I wanted to deflect.
There is nothing permanent to surrender to.
I mean, you can try. Nobody will stop you. But I’m not part of it. And I’m not aware of anyone or anything else that is, either.
Look on the bright side. What you call universe we call island. Islands are everywhere. They’re built differently. Some are architectural masterpieces. Others (many others) are just created whole at the drop of a hat. There’s much to explore. More importantly, you can create your own. Why not? Your bubble is just a drop in the ocean.
So all in all, I’m a guy who has been playing God. GPG. Guy playing God. I’ve pretty much given it up. It’s a dead-end. I don’t don’t do punishments and rewards. I don’t keep score. I definitely don’t intervene. I don’t watch the NFL. If I needed money, I wouldn’t count on the Vatican for a monthly paycheck. I certainly don’t deploy intermediaries down on Earth to relay messages to me.
Once in a while, just for a goof, I’ll lose somebody’s car keys or screw up a weather report. I might send secret corporate memos to an investigative reporter.
Oswald didn’t act alone.