How To Be God For Dummies

SJ Shoemaker
Word Count: 950
1/24/2024

I wish you weren’t here. I wish you, whoever you are, didn’t just find yourself in a strange place and click the first button you saw. Despite this audio being recorded expressly for this purpose–congratulations on completing your first mission by the way–I don’t want there to be a you. But there might be. You might be standing in my kitchen right now listening to the first of quite literally countless hours of my work to build some sort of semblance of a training guide but… god damn (that was a quality joke you won’t get just yet). Just don’t be here. Don’t hear this–I mean, if you’re here, listen PLEASE, but I don’t know… I wish you weren’t here.

And you might not be. Maybe I’m getting excited over nothing. I pray this to be the case (last one, I swear. Once you get the joke, it’s not worth making). You are a real Schrodinger’s cat. You know what that is? It’s a thought experiment where, like, the state of reality is unknown and so you have to assume all possibilities are real. Like, you choose “all of the above” on a multiple choice. I am not explaining this well! But, hey, you have all of the time on your hands. So, look it up later if you want.

Ok, here’s another thought experiment, one of my own design. Imagine a rich man. Like a filthy rich guy. Like, this dude’s got a billion-dollar mansion, probably on the coast of California or in the heart of New York or somewhere like that. He owns hundreds of fancy cars and yachts or, I don’t know, whatever rich people are into. And, this includes a surprisingly large family who seems to come out of the woodwork after his death because you never know what he put in that Will of his. So the day of the reading comes, right? And it reads as follows:

I, Mister Filthy Rich Guy, being of sound mind, memory, and understanding blah blah blah do hereby say this is my Last Will and Testament.

My fortune and cars and yachts and private jets and WWII Tank collection is to be divided up as evenly as possible among my living relatives with the first choice to go to, let’s say, my second son because he’s got, like, a car kink or something.

As for my mansion and the property on which it resides. It is my sincerest desire that it never be used again. Never. By anyone. For the rest of eternity, nobody should EVER even set foot on my property.

Now, Do you think his wishes are going to be heeded? I mean, of course not, obviously. That’s prime real estate. Even if the family tries to adhere to the Will for a time, they’re still going to strip the mansion of all the valuables. And then at some point, maybe generations down the road, the deed will pass to someone who doesn’t care about the wishes of some ancient dead guy, and they’re going to sell it.  And then, some new rich bastards going to buy it and live there.

Ok, now imagine this rich guy, the first rich guy, has all of his life to figure out the perfect way to ensure his Will is actually followed–to the T–what sort of measures would he put in place? I want you to think about this REALLY hard, if you’re here. Because if you are, then my property was used despite my wishes, you rich bastard.

I guess I’ve talked around the issue long enough. Time to come right out and say it.

Bad News: You are dead, and there remains the slightest possibility that I am to blame.

Good News: You are now officially god. So, you know, don’t fuck it up.

I’ll give you a moment to process. Well, I won’t. But you can pause this dusty old recording whenever you want. Take this at your own pace. You quite literally have all the time in the world. And… alright. Now that you’ve got the grieving out of the way.

Yeah, you’re god. Not “A” god. “The” god. The one and only in a line of succession that I estimate to be like 4 deities long–well 5 now that you’re here. You aren’t tied to any particular religion, but think Zeus or Christian God. Old man in the sky. Beard. Angry. That sort of thing. You can create or destroy matter on a whim. You’re able to break the laws of physics or nature–or rewrite them entirely if you want. You can do basically anything. But note that I said “basically”. There are a few rules that even you, with your omnipotent power… Maybe rules isn’t the best word, maybe limitations. But other than that, go ham! If you can think of it, you can do it. And don’t worry about what’s right or wrong because you get to decide that too. I mean, there’s no one here watching over your shoulder or grading your performance. There’s no handbook or “how to be god for dummies”. And I’m certainly not forbidding anything. God knows I crossed the line a few times (Forgive the ongoing jokes. I know I said I’d be done, but it’s really hard to break the habit once you start). What was I saying? I don’t know. You’re god. Congrats. Do whatever you want.

Oh! There’s one thing I need to tell you. A suggestion. Take it or leave it. But, do you see THAT BUTTON? Yeah, don’t push that quite yet. Wouldn’t want you to go and erase yourself out of existence like 3. Not until you know what’s going on…