I have aborted myself from my mother’s womb 13 hours before I was due. And so you know, I have some defects.
We are god’s forsaken children; mere blunders even, borne out of a child’s play, we were molded from mud as any child does. We were merely the fancies of his lonely childhood. Now, he has grown older but time favors him without limits and the woes of his childhood are all forgotten, decapitated out of his neck. But he expects every human being to pay their dues, to offer some provision to their Lord and Creator. Yet preachers lecture blasphemy evil.
Humanity yields towards a phase of cipher rationality. Should man esteem faith before logic? Great men should be superior to humanity in contempt, in doubt, in knowledge, in destroying faith. Once upon a time God was created out of sheer desperation and simultaneously all of human reason had ceased to exist. But the age of reason is bound to set in and even God is King Canute; incapable of stopping the tidal waves of the greatest peripeteia, the beginning of rage for all things conventional, the revolt of the higher mortals against all things less, the death of God, and the expiration of his mystique. The death of God is the liberation of men. It demolishes the clustered bondage of thou-shalls and thou-shall-nots.
Even the walls have not heard the deafening battlecries inside the chest of this godless priest. How can something so painful be so utterly mute.
In the beginning there was a foolish boy called Yahweh who went out of his cosmic dwelling to fetch some stars. He played a trick on one and created little rocks to orbit about, he called this the solar system. He liked the blue one most and spat life into it and called himself the “lord of all creation.”