Say you met god after the rapture....?

[CP]

I'd join the inevitable third side that would form, attempting to defend the remainder of humanity from the supernatural battle. Reason with the divine warleaders if possible, if not... find a corner of the world they're least likely to actively fight in (probably underground somewhere) and dig in.

[leo-rcc]

you met god after the rapture....

[Hermit]

I'd tappity-tap the fingertips of my right hand menacingly with my cricket bat and say: "So you're the..."

O wait. No. This is not the right occasion to override my dislike of absurd hypotheticals.

[Svartalf]

Look moron, you set up the experiment, you knew the results in advance, if I've been what I've been and I've reviled you and whatnot, it was up to you to set things up so they would turn out different.

Now show that infinite mercy of yours or be done.

[Svartalf]

I wonder if a god dies every time you say 'I don't believe in gods'

Does your vajayjay die everybody tells you you're not a cunt?

[Deep Sea Isopod]

Say you met god after the rapture

I met god after the rapture.

[odysseus]

I'd tell him everything I did was his fucking fault if I don't have free will....

[mistermack]

I would just ask him, "who made you?" and demand to meet the real man in charge.
.

[charlou]

I would just ask him, "who made you?" and demand to meet the real man in charge.
.

It was a man ... and a woman ... they (thought they) fucked up, thus god. Sinners.

[Magnon]

…Have you not heard of that madman who lit a lantern in the bright morning hours, ran into the market place and cried incessantly: ‘I am looking for God! I am looking for God!’ – As many of those who did not believe in God were standing together there he excited considerable laughter. Have you lost him then? said one. Did he lose his way like a child? said another. Or is he hiding? Is he afraid of us? Has he gone on a voyage? Or emigrated? – thus they shouted and laughed. The madman sprang into their midst and pierced them with his glances. ‘Where has God gone?’ he cried. I shall tell you. We have killed him – you and I. We are his murderers. But how have we done this? How were we able to drink up the sea? Who gave us the sponge to wipe away the entire horizon? What did we do when we unchained the Earth from its Sun?

Whither is it moving now? Whither are we moving now? Away from all suns? Are we not perpetually falling? Backward, sideward, forward, in all directions? Is there any up or down left? Are we not straying as through an infinite nothing? Do we not feel the breath of empty space? Has it not become colder? Is more and more night not coming on all the time? Must not all lanterns be lit in the morning? Do we not hear anything yet of the noise of the gravediggers who are burying God? Do we not smell anything yet of God’s decomposition? – gods, too, decompose. God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we, the murderers of all murderers, console ourselves? That which was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet possessed has bled to death under our knives – who will wipe this blood off us? With what water could we purify ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we need to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we not ourselves become gods simply to seem worthy of it? There has never been a greater deed – and whoever shall be born after us, for the sake of this deed he shall be a part of a higher history than all history hitherto.’

Here the madman fell silent and again regarded his listeners; and they, too, were silent and stared at him in astonishment. At last, he threw his lantern to the ground and it broke and went out. ‘I came too early,’ he said then; ‘my time has not yet come. This tremendous event is still on its way, still traveling – it has not yet reached the ears of men. Lightning and thunder require time, deeds require time after they have been done before they can be seen and heard. This deed is still more distant from them than the most distant stars – and yet they have done it for themselves.’

It has been related further that on that same day the madman entered divers churches and there sang a requiem æternum deo. Led out and quieted, he is said to have retorted each time: ‘What are these churches now if they are not the tombs and sepulchres of God?’…
Nietzsche

[charlou]

…Have you not heard of that madman who lit a lantern in the bright morning hours, ran into the market place and cried incessantly: ‘I am looking for God! I am looking for God!’ – As many of those who did not believe in God were standing together there he excited considerable laughter. Have you lost him then? said one. Did he lose his way like a child? said another. Or is he hiding? Is he afraid of us? Has he gone on a voyage? Or emigrated? – thus they shouted and laughed. The madman sprang into their midst and pierced them with his glances. ‘Where has God gone?’ he cried. I shall tell you. We have killed him – you and I. We are his murderers. But how have we done this? How were we able to drink up the sea? Who gave us the sponge to wipe away the entire horizon? What did we do when we unchained the Earth from its Sun?

Whither is it moving now? Whither are we moving now? Away from all suns? Are we not perpetually falling? Backward, sideward, forward, in all directions? Is there any up or down left? Are we not straying as through an infinite nothing? Do we not feel the breath of empty space? Has it not become colder? Is more and more night not coming on all the time? Must not all lanterns be lit in the morning? Do we not hear anything yet of the noise of the gravediggers who are burying God? Do we not smell anything yet of God’s decomposition? – gods, too, decompose. God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we, the murderers of all murderers, console ourselves? That which was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet possessed has bled to death under our knives – who will wipe this blood off us? With what water could we purify ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we need to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we not ourselves become gods simply to seem worthy of it? There has never been a greater deed – and whoever shall be born after us, for the sake of this deed he shall be a part of a higher history than all history hitherto.’

Here the madman fell silent and again regarded his listeners; and they, too, were silent and stared at him in astonishment. At last, he threw his lantern to the ground and it broke and went out. ‘I came too early,’ he said then; ‘my time has not yet come. This tremendous event is still on its way, still traveling – it has not yet reached the ears of men. Lightning and thunder require time, deeds require time after they have been done before they can be seen and heard. This deed is still more distant from them than the most distant stars – and yet they have done it for themselves.’

It has been related further that on that same day the madman entered divers churches and there sang a requiem æternum deo. Led out and quieted, he is said to have retorted each time: ‘What are these churches now if they are not the tombs and sepulchres of God?’…
Nietzsche

Somehow, listening to Black Sabbath when I came across and read the above was most appropriate.

[Magnon]

http://www.google.com.au/imgres?imgurl= ... 59&bih=627

[Hermit]

I would just ask him, "who made you?" and demand to meet the real man in charge.
.

Turtles



all the way down

[stripes4]

I would ask him why he had to make my arse so fat

[Magnon]

...ONCE YOU WERE APES,
YET IRONICALLY MAN IS NOW MORE ‘APE’ THAN ANY OF THE APES...

Nietzsche