An odd conjurer he was, destined all the while
to make a world and then get rid of it,
hoping to stumble on some idea, some style
that would allow him to remain an idiot.
Thus he created – well, us, in a word.
But we screwed it all up, just as he knew we would.
To start all over from scratch once more he preferred,
for he saw that it was no longer good.
“How they forget the time when I’d spare not the rod!
I – whom they looked on as their father, their mentor,
called me, variously, Zeus, Allah, God.
And these…these self-satisfied little dissenters,
with their weak little bodies and strong little wits –
let them tumble headlong into their pits!
And let the earth roll back to its very center!”
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