Holy shit, I made it to heaven!

Me: Wow, I can’t believe I’m in heaven! Hi, who are you?

God: God.

Me: Holy shit! I’m standing here talking to God! Sorry, I don’t know what else to say.

God: That’s fine, nobody does. What did you think of the trip over?

Me: Pretty awesome. I assumed that when I died I would just float up slowly while a choir sang to me from the clouds or something. I didn't think it would be...

God: A humongous water slide? I know. How fun was that?

Me: Super fun. So now that I'm here, what should I call you? God? Mr. God? Your Holiness? Captain Creation?

God: No need for any ostentatious titles. You can just call me Mighty Lord And Master Of The Universe.

Me: Oh, okay.

God: I’m kidding! Just call me Dave.

Me: You’re kidding again, right?

God: No, that time I was serious. I want you to call me Dave.

Me: Um, okay… Dave. No offense but I thought you’d look more like a, you know, Norse deity or something, big muscular body, white flowing hair, thick beard, a fierce admonishing scowl on your face. Instead you look more like a…

God: Skateboarder, I know. I love skateboarding. Anyway, come on in. You want a skateboard too?

Me: I don’t know how to skate.

God: You don’t have to know how in heaven, you just skate.

Me: Wow, like the Matrix? Okay here goes… you’re right, thanks, this is fun!

God: So how do you like heaven so far?

Me: Nice. Real nice. Um…

God: Yeah?

Me: Well… it smells of perfume. A lot of perfume.

God: Oh right, I can tone down the perfume and the air fresheners a bit, no problem. Anything else?

Me: Yeah, there sure are a lot of flowers… not to mention all the fountains and marble and rainbows and kittens and gold ornaments and velvet furniture and waaaay too many columns everywhere. Plus there's a lot of harp music in the background. Not that I’m complaining, but the whole place feels kinda like an Egyptian holiday resort.

God: Okay okay, I’ve been wanting to remodel for a while, everyone complains it's too kitsch. I spent a lot of time designing the water slide in, so now I can start focusing on some other stuff. 

Me: You should also probably cull some of those peacocks and swans. There's bird shit all over the place.

God: Duly noted.

Me: And that beach over there is just way too crowded with old people. Who are they?

God: Oh, those are all the Old Testament prophets. They are all like literally thousands of years old. That's their beach.

Me: Wait, am I the only one who's new here right now?

God: For today, yes. Not many souls make it up here, so congratulations.

Me: I don’t mean to cause offense or sound ungrateful or anything, but to be totally honest with you, I never really thought I’d be here. In fact, I never even really believed there was a here.

God: I know.

Me: To be totally honest, I never even believed in you.

God: I know, I know.

Me: …or even that there was such a thing as a soul, or angels or prophets or holy books and all that stuff. So I’m really really surprised I’m here.

God: I know all that. I know everything, seeing as I’m omniscient and all, if you don’t mind my pointing out the obvious. So don’t worry about it. Everyone is always surprised they’re here. In fact, that is the reason why you are here. Ooo half-pipe! Do it!

Me: I can’t do a half pipe.

God: Come on just do it.

Me: Really? Okay… WHOA! I CAN’T BELIEVE I JUST DID A HALF-PIPE IN HEAVEN! FUUUUUCK!

God: Gnarly!

Me: Awesome. Wow. Um, so what was I saying? Oh yeah, so I have no idea how I, of all people, ended up here. I mean, there are people who spend their whole lives prepping themselves for heaven, trying to avoid hell, following scriptures and whatnot, listening to preachers, trying to live by all those rules and laws in your holy books, fasting, praying, abstaining from fun stuff, not coveting oxen and the like…

God: I know. That’s how I weed out all the ones that I don’t want in heaven. Look, I’m God, and I get to choose who I want to spend eternity with over here. So I choose not to choose the ones who would go for all that stuff. Ollie!

Me: Whoa, cool ollie, I don’t think I can…

God: Do it, come on.

Me: I don’t… okay… here goes… WHOA! I CAN DO AN OLLIE!

God: Yeah you can!

Me: So you’re saying heaven is basically for… people who don’t believe in it?

God: Exactly. Heaven is for people who couldn’t give a fuck about it, or me, or any of that stuff. Last thing I want is a bunch of uptight self-righteous holier-than-thou religious nuts running around here being all preachy and annoying. They are no fun. I made the mistake of letting a few in once. Nightmare. See, when you’ve spent your whole life in the compulsive and selfish pursuit of saving your own soul for all of eternity, you don’t just finally let loose, ease up, and be cool once you find that you’ve succeeded and that you are in heaven. You continue being what you have always been and the only thing you know how to be: a prig. I’d be like, “Congratulations! You did it! Here, have a beer that never gets warm, smoke this foot-long spliff that never goes out, get completely naked, and let’s jump off that tire swing and into the heavenly waters until we’re giggling like little girls swimming with rainbow-colored unicorn dolphins and having sex with mermaids,” or whatever I decided to create that day in heaven, depending on how baked I am. But instead they’d be all offended and appalled, going “Oh no, I couldn’t. Naked? No thanks. Beer? No way...” HELLO!? You just wasted your whole life trying to beat death, avoid eternal damnation, and get into this place so you can have fun and be happy for eternity with nothing to worry about ever again, but now that you’re here you’re just going to keep being the same old enormous miserable buzzkill you’ve been all your life? Fuck that! That’s why I don’t let them in anymore.

Me: Fair enough.

God: I couldn’t even get them to believe I was God. They kept thinking I was Satan.

Me: Wait, how do I know you’re not Satan?

God: Do you like it here?

Me: Sure.

God: Then who gives a shit?

Me: Good point.

God: Triple sideflip coming up, here we go…

Me: No fucking way, I cannot… Wow! I just did a triple sideflip!

God: Up top, bra.

Me: Up top. Wait, so where do religious people go if they don’t go to heaven? Do they go to hell?

God: No, of course not. I’m not a total asshole. I just send them to limbo. It’s nice enough there, suits them fine, they don’t seem to know the difference. They all think it’s heaven anyway.

Me: Isn’t limbo just something made up by the Catholic Church?

God: Totally. But I really liked the idea, so I actually made a real limbo. Except it doesn’t just have, you know, Greek philosophers and stuff that Dante put in it, it also has all those religious people. Like I said, they don’t know the difference, so it’s all fine. The philosophers are a little pissed off, of course, and as you can imagine the quality of philosophical discussions in limbo have really deteriorated with all those religious people thrown in there, but the philosophers kind of just try and stick to themselves to avoid all the religious folks with their “If you found a watch lying on the ground would you think it just came about by mere chance?” arguments.

Me: So heaven is just for atheists?

God: No, not all atheists. I don’t let arrogant bible-bashing science-above-all windbags in here. They also all just go to limbo. Christopher Hitchens is there as we speak, arguing endlessly with religious people. There’s no way I’m putting up with all that arrogant drivel here.

Me: Oh. I guess you haven’t read my blog, then?

God: Your what?

Me: Nothing.

God: I’m not good with all that computery technology stuff. I'm more of a carve-commandments-on-stone-tablets-on-top-of-mountains kind of guy. Oh shit, here comes you-know-who. Just try not to pay attention.

Me: Who? Where? That guy on that beat-up old bike? The one with a can of beer in his hand and that half-burnt cigarette dangling out the side of his mouth, wearing that long white wine-stained robe?

God: Yeah, him. Just keep skating the other way.

Me: I think he saw us, he’s coming over.

God: Ugh. Here we go.

Guy On Bike: Good morning motherfuckers. Or good evening or good night, I don’t fucking know up here since we traded the sun for constant fluorescent heavenly light. What’s up?

God: Not much, just skating and showing the new guy around.

Guy On Bike: Cool. Aren’t you going to introduce us… dad?

Me: Wow, you’re…

Guy On Bike: Jesus Christ, yes. Let the trumpets sound, let the angels sing, it’s JC. I see you’ve met my loving father. What a nice guy, right? What a cool awesome nice guy.

God: Look, don’t start this again…

Jesus: Oh I’m sorry, start what? Complaining about how you had me tortured to death by a bunch of sadistic neanderthals wearing sandals and feather helmets? That little incident I can’t somehow just get over? Should we talk about skateboarding instead? Hm? How about the weather? Maybe we can talk about the weather? Here goes: the weather today is perfect, like every other fucking day in heaven. There, done. Oh hey, here’s a funny thing that happened to me the other day I GOT CRUCIFIED!

God: Just calm down.

Jesus: Oh, I’m calm. In fact I’d say I’m surprisingly calm for somebody who was nailed to a log and left to die an excruciating death on top of a fucking hill. I think you’d be hard put to find anyone calmer than me, considering the circumstances… which, by the way, also involved me getting a spear jabbed into my ribs and a vinegar-soaked sponge getting shoved into my mouth. I’m like the fucking Dalai Lama times six thousand right now in terms of calm, dad. You know how the Dalai Lama has had to endure exile from his homeland? Poor Dalai Lama. Well, I can relate to that kind of pain, because YOU HAD ME TURNED INTO LIVING VULTURE FEED!

God: Look, I told you already, it was all part of my plan. You were going to die for the sins of mankind and they were going to…

Jesus: They were going to what? Were they going to be like “Oh, wow, thanks Jesus, I can’t believe you had to go through all that shit for us, it must’ve really really sucked, the least we can do is consider you our lord and savior”? Is that what they were going to say? How many of them did say that?

God: I don’t know, like two billion…

Jesus: Wow, two billion. That’s, what? One third of everyone? One third. Thirty three percent. I bet ninety percent of that thirty three percent don’t even go to church. Nice. I wore a crown of thorns as I carried a cross on my own back up a hill while being whipped and mocked, then I got nailed to that cross and was left to die a slow, humiliating, and agonizing death while people laughed and tortured me. And that only rallied about thirty percent of people? Everyone else was like “Myeh, I don’t know.” Nice fucking plan, dad. What would I have had to do to get 50% on board? Be raped in the butt repeatedly by a pig while an eagle ate my eyes out of my face? What about 75%? Lord forbid what in your name I would’ve had to do to have 100% of all people finally go “Alright, Jesus, you are our lord and savior, now please just make it stop!” Seriously, what kind of sick perverted misconceived plan was all that a part of? And then you go on about how perfect you are. Um, sorry to break the news to you dad, but YOU ARE NOT PERFECT. There, I said it. GOD IS NOT PERFECT.

God: That makes no sense. If I wasn’t perfect I wouldn’t be God, would I?

Jesus: Maybe you’re a shitty God? Here’s a question, if you’re so perfect, how did the Holocaust happen? Was that just a little whoopsy daisy on your part? How did Captain Perfection create a world where that kind of shit happens?

God: I’m ignoring you now. Besides, you seem to forget that I suffered too because you are partly me, remember?

Jesus: Oh please. Seriously? Who buys that whole Father-Son-Holy Spirit trinity hocus pocus? I’m supposed to be part Holy Spirit? What is that even? Is that when you fart lavender-scented rainbows that turn into pink stardust-sprinkled unicorn eyes? Or is it basically just a precious term for your jizm? What the fuck is the Holy Spirit? 

God: Um, it’s… you know… one of the three things you and I are. It’s like, the spirit of me that travels through you into… um…

Jesus: See, you can’t explain it can you? Because it’s just a another stupid make-believe thing you stole from the Catholic Church. Am I right? 

God: No, not really. I would’ve thought of it anyway. I don’t take that much from the Catholic Church.

Jesus: Oh please, you barely have any original ideas anymore, you just steal everything from the Catholics. Purgatory, limbo, the Trinity, transubstantiation. It’s like they’ve brainwashed you. 

God: Well, they have a lot of good ideas.

Jesus: Really? Transubstantiation is a good idea? You put a wafer into someone’s mouth and that’s supposed to literally turn into my flesh? You think that’s a solid idea? Seriously, you’ve become a total Catholic and you don’t even know it.

God: Look just chill out, will you? Go have fun, ride your bike, take your mind off all that stuff. You’re in heaven now, just relax.

Jesus: Relax?! I have to go back down there at some point because you promised them I would return! “Second Coming”, you call it, remember? Thanks for that, by the way. How am I supposed to relax after what happened the first time around? How do you know it’s not going to be even worse? I was traumatized by all that, and now I can’t get it off my mind that I have to go back down there and relive all that shit at some point. Plus I bet you won’t even let me do the whole Second Coming gig in any place civilized like Canada or New Zealand or something. You’re probably going to make me pop up smack bang in the middle of that whole shit show they call the Middle East. Great. Looking forward to that one. I thought the Romans were a bunch of assholes, who will I have to deal with next time? Fucking ISIS? I’m just going to float down on a golden ray with a big song and dance routine singing “I’M BAAAAACK!” and they’re going to literally rip my limbs off and turn me inside out until I’m wearing my lungs as earrings. I’m going to wish I were crucified instead of whatever they’re going to put me through. Or what if I have to show up in Jerusalem between a bunch of Israeli Jews and Palestinian Muslims, none of whom give a shit about me, by the way?

God: Just… it’ll be fine. Probably. Relax. 

Jesus: By the way, when was the last time you called mom?

God: Mary? Um, I've been so busy, you know how it is.

Jesus: Really? You just knock her up with a big load of Holy Spirit and get a teenage virgin pregnant then walk away like nothing happened? You are such a deadbeat!

God: Alright look, I gotta go.

Jesus: Oh okay, bye dad! Have a great day! I’ll just stop being such an unreasonable little crybaby about everything! Have a great time riding your skateboard! Number One Dad Forever! 

God: Okay, he’s gone. Sorry about that.

Me: Boy, he seems pissed. He also seems very drunk. Should we help him get back up on his bike? That was a big spill he just took.

God: Eh, whatever. He’ll be fine. What’s he going to do, die? Empty pool coming up!

Me: Alright, this is going to be fun, here we go… whoa! I’m getting the hang of this skateboarding stuff.

God: Nice Frontside Air!

Me: Thanks! Hey, who’s that guy with the umbrella?

Noah: Oh hey guys! Great weather we’re having, am I right?

God: Oh, hi Noah, yeah, good weather yet again, just like every other day.

Noah: Yep. No rain! Not a drop! Certainly not forty days and forty nights worth! I hope that never happens again. Still, I always carry an umbrella juuuust in case.

Me [whispering to God]: Is he a little pissed about the whole flood thing?

God [whispering to Me]: Yeah, he's obsessed with the weather. I think he kind of lost it after the whole flood ordeal. In hindsight, I did put a lot on the poor guy's plate. He had to build the ark real quick, watch everyone around him drown to death, collect all those animals in the boat and then live with those creatures on a stormy sea for 40 days and nights. I think he had a breakdown and just never recovered.

Noah: Yep, not a drop of rain. Beautiful beautiful weather today. Boy, sure is good to be out and about on firm ground on a fine day like today. Say, have you ever had to sleep next to a seasick hippopotamus one night and then under an elephant with diarrhea the next?

Me: Um, can’t say I have, no.

Noah: I have! Boy. I have.

God: Anyway, nice seeing you again Noah…

Noah: Hey, have you ever had to fight cabin fever, scurvy, dehydration AND a Jaguar in very confined quarters from which the only escape was to throw yourself to the mercy of a planet-swallowing ocean that had engulfed whole mountains?

Me: No, no I didn’t.

Noah: I did. I did that. I totally had to do that. That happened to me. Hey, do you know what a boat full of baboons, pigs, otters, rhinos, and orangutans smells like after just two days, let alone forty? Can you even remotely imagine what that smell is like? Can you?

God: Okay, we really should be going now, catch you later…

Noah: Have you ever had to eat a unicorn out of boredom and hunger?

Me: What?

Noah: I have. I ate the unicorn. It was delicious. In fact it was so delicious I ate the other one as well. Boy, great weather we’re having, huh guys?

God: Yes, yes Noah, great weather. See you later buddy. Take it easy.

Me: Man, he did not look well. Does he even know he’s completely naked?

God: I just let him be. I feel kind of responsible for that. Oh here come the angels.

Gabriel: Hellooooo Senor Supremo! How are you today, mister hunky big guy!? Ooooh, who’s this scrumptious young man you’ve got here? Aren’t you going to introduce us?

Michael: Mmmhmmm, hunky and deliciouuuuuuus! Hello sailor!

Me: Hello.

Azrail: Gaby, Mikey and I are about to top off our tans and then maybe go for a little skinny dipping in the manna pool. Wanna join us, girls?

Me: Um, that’s okay.

God: Yeah, we’ll catch you guys later, gotta go.

Azrail: Suit yourselves, bye ladies!

Me: Wow, they were…

God: Yeah, I know…

Me: Super gay.

God: Very very gay, yes. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but yeah, way gay.

Me: What do they do, if you don't mind me asking?

God: Well, technically they're supposed to be answering people's prayers, but we're so backed up that they kind of just gave up. We just all kind of leave the prayers to chance now. It seems to work out fine. When what people pray for actually come true they think we answered their prayers, but when the prayers don't come true they don't seem to stop believing in us or blame us or anything either. They just keep praying. It's bizarre. So anyway, we realized it makes no difference whatsoever whether we answer their prayers or not. See that enormous mountain over there?

Me: Yeah.

God: Those are accumulated prayers over the last 10,000 years. It's all just piled up there in that giant heap, everything from "stop the rain!" to "make it rain again!" to "fix my knee!" or "help me score well in my math final!" or "help me find a husband!" or "please don't let the sabertooth tiger eat me!" or "have mercy on us!" and a whole lot of "help my team score!". Boy there's a lot of prayers about sports teams. Why do people assume I give a shit about their sports teams?

Me: That's a lot of unanswered prayers. Surely you guys could answer some of them?

God: The angels are all "Whateverrr!" so forget them. And me, well, I guess I could answer their prayers instead, but, you know...

Me: You'd rather be skateboarding?

God: Bingo.

Me: Hey, now that we’re alone, I always wanted to ask you a question, do you mind?

God: Oh I know what you're going to ask. It's what everyone asks. No, we're not in the Matrix.

Me: No, that's not what I was going to ask, although that's good to know. What I was going to ask was, what does it all mean?

God: Huh? What does what mean?

Me: You know, the big question, the answer to the ultimate mystery of existence. Life, the universe, everything. What does it all mean? What’s the meaning of life?

God: Oh, right, the meaning of… well… um… you know… just… uh… hmmm. Okay, here goes: believe in peace and brotherhood of man… um… love each other and… love will save the world… be respectful… cherish life… live everyday like it’s the last day of your…

Me: Oh my God, you have no idea, do you?

God: Um, no. Not a fucking clue.

Me: But you’re God! Surely if anyone knows, it should be you! You just made everything for no reason?

God: Well, no. Or yes. I don’t know. I just made it all because… you know… because… like, why do kids love Lego or train sets? That sort of thing I guess.

Me: So we’re basically your minifigs?! Is that what you’re saying? This is depressing.

God: I don’t know. What was I going to do, sit around and twiddle my fingers?

Me: Wow. So the meaning of life, the reason behind the mystery and wonder of all existence, the secret of the universe is, in God’s own words, “What was I going to do, sit around and twiddle my fingers?” That’s all you’ve got?!

God: Okay okay, I can do better. Here goes: Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.

Me: Oh my God, are you quoting Dr. Seuss?

God: Pffff, what? No.

Me: You are. I remember that line from my kid’s books.

God: No no no. Well, he may have written it first but I thought of the same idea, so it still counts as my idea. Also, never regret a day in your life because good days give you happiness and bad days give you experience, so…

Me: Is that a book of inspirational quotes in your pocket?

God: What? This? No, it’s…

Me: It is, isn’t it? Here let me see. Oh my God!

God: No wait, give it back! Give it back to me right now!

Me: You’ve got post-its and bookmarks all over it. Unbelievable. Here it is, here’s the exact quote you just gave me. Do you just memorize Hallmark cards?

God: Okay, look. I don’t fucking know what the meaning of life is, okay? Every fucking soul who comes here asks the same fucking question and I’m fucking sick of trying to answer it so I just have some go-to answers at the ready. Is that a sin? It’s not like they aren’t kinda true in a way, right?

Me: Oh please. We have all that meaningless pseudo-philosophical semi-religious new-age drivel down there precisely because we’re all clueless and need something to give us hope in the face of certain death and annihilation. One would assume that once they are dead and they see the light and go to heaven and meet God himself that they would finally be given the answer to whatever all this life business is all about. But instead I find out God is just a skateboarder who goes by the name of Dave and doesn’t know dick. Pathetic.

God: Okay, fuck it, you know what the meaning of life is? Here goes: Try and be nice to people, avoid eating fat, read a good book every now and then, get some walking in, try and live together in peace and harmony with people of all creeds and nations and…

Me: Now you’re just quoting Monty Python. Ugh, forget it.

God: Well, Monty Python were the closest anyone got, really.

Me: Whatever, I don’t care anymore.

God: You know, life is like a box of chocolates…

Me: Oh shut the fuck up.

God: You’re the one who started it! You’re all “Dear God, what’s the meaning of liiiiife!”

Me: My mistake, I’m never bringing it up again. Fucking hell.

God: Hey come on, forget about all that deep and meaningful shit.

Me: Yeah, but…

God: Come on. You know what would cheer you up?

Me: What?

God: A triple loop.

Me: No way. Seriously?

God: You can do it.

Me: Alright I guess. Sure. WHOOOOOAAAAAAA… WAHOOOOOOOOOO!

God: Fuck yeah. Feeling better now?

Me: Yeah, I guess.

God: Are you ticklish? Is someone a little ticklish?

Me: Stop. Stop that. Hehehee, stop! Hehe.. hohahee… don’t!

God: There’s that smile! Now come on, let’s go drop water-filled condoms on Mother Teresa’s head. She hates that!

Me: Okay!

(For Bill Rosenfeld and Tufan Tolga. Enjoy the skateboarding, guys.)