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In the Beginning, there was the Void. Inexplicably enough, there was also God. How this came to be is best left for another time, when you are in a mental state more conducive to the imparting of such information. Explaining this is a Difficult Concept, and requires much mental, um, fluidity, much willingness to forget what you were thinking about just a moment before. Think of it as a Mental Adventure. An adventure to Find God. Drunk or stoned is one good way to start such an adventure, although there are those who possess a Natural Ability to understand such things without exernal stimuli.

As I cannot assume that you are in either of those states, and nor may I assume that you are just Naturally Blessed , perhaps we should just ignore that part and get on with the story.

So there sat God, bored as all bewillickers, looking at the Void. God can do that sort of thing. You couldn't, because a Void is just a void, and there is nothing to look *at*. You would think that would be a problem for God, too, but it isn't. God transcends these human limitations. So there he is looking at the Void, and all of a sudden he's feeling real nasty and ornery. Really, really pissed. You don't want to even know this kind of pissed. I'm sure you think you've had a royal hair across your butt now and then, but trust me on this one: when God is pissed, it's a sight to behold. Awesome, as they say.

Now you might wonder why God would be so ripped. After all, talk about sitting in the cat-bird's seat! Talk about having the whole enchilada in the palm of your hand! Talk about being Numero Uno, the Big Boss, Mister Big, and all that! You wouldn't think the Dude would have a care in the world, would you? Hell, if you or I were sitting there, we'd just pop up some suitable companionship of the opposite sex and make that old Void a rocking, happening place, wouldn't we? Man, would we ever!

Well, boopy, it's just not God's style. We don't really know if it's Primary Impotence or what, but the Guy is just not interested in a raucus time. Maybe he doesn't even have the equipment, if you catch my drift.

But don't get the idea that this is why God was red-faced and steaming. You see, you have to stop thinking of the Heavenly Father in your puny little human terms. Sure, you or I would be pissed if we hadn't had an orgasm in All Eternity, but God is made of different stuff, and that's not why he was pissed.

No, the problem was the damn Omni-stuff. Not the silly stuff, like making a rock too heavy too lift. That's child's play for a God. God just *transcends* all that, you see. You understand that, don't you? No? Well, get back to me when your mind is more fluid and we'll work on it. For the moment, just accept on Pure Faith that it wasn't monstrous rocks or Immovable Objects vs. Irresistable Forces that was chomping at God's toesies. It was something much worse. It was...

Omniscience. Yup, amazing as it might seem to you, that's what had God gnashing his teeth and tugging at his forelocks. Sure, I know: you'd *love* to know tomorrow's lottery number, wouldn't you? But God doesn't care squat about that: what the hell would He need with $50K a year over 20 years? You've got to start using your *head*, man. God has no use for money, and he certainly doesn't care whether or not he has a chance of scoring with that red-head in Accounting either. By the way, you don't. Just thought you'd like to know.

I see your little brain cells flashing at each other. You think God was worrying about our Free Will, don't you? Come on, admit it, that's exactly what you were thinking, isn't it? Well, you are wrong. At that particular moment, God hadn't even got far enough to worry about that little wrinkle yet. It's kind of a no-brainer for a God anyway. You don't understand how Free Will and Omniscience can possibly both be true at the same time? Man, you are a major pain in the butt, you know that? OK, Ok, so maybe there is a teensy little problem there. Maybe we just redefine Free Will, then. What do you think about that? Or maybe we just sweep the whole issue under the table and redefine Omniscience. Heck, maybe we just redefine both of them, and while we're in the mood, we'll just redefine Ducks, too, and then where will you be? Looking pretty stupid, if you ask me. I've seen Michael Siemon redefine this stuff in less than 300 words, so if he can do it, you can just imagine what short work God would make of it.

Look, the point is that this was not what was bugging God. So just keep it in your pants and we'll get on with the story, OK?

Jeesus. Where was I? Oh, yeah, I was about to explain why God was all torn up over this Omniscience thing.

You see, Omniscience means God had already Been There, and Done That. You think you're a little bored with the daily grind? You haven't even begun to understand the problem.

Been There, Done That. Seen it All. Sees it All, in fact, right now, in blazing Multimedia 128 bit full motion video and Quad stereo sound. Outside of time, inside of time, beyond time. All over Time like spaghetti on a plate. God's Experiencing it, man, he's grooving with the beat, but it's all Right NOW from where he sits.

So he's, like, stuck with it? I mean, it's all there. It's all laid out and He knows how it's going to come down, how it *is* coming down, how it *did* come down, and it's all the same thing, you dig? It's a Happening, but it's also a Done Deal, a published work. It's like *over*, man.

So God, the Big Honcho, the Ultimate Man, the Essential Buck Stops Here Guy, is pretty much helpless.

"Helpless?", you laugh, "How can God be helpless?". Well, you're right. He *could* stick his finger right into the middle of 1492 and send the Nina, the Pinta and the Santa Maria into a nice mid-Atlantic whirlpool, and then it might be another 30 or 40 years before someone else got up the guts and the financing to try again. That would tend to change a few things, and probably mess up some very nice mnemonic history aids as well.

But if he did that, then his vision of the whole rest of eternity would have to change, too. There would be ripples fanning out for hundreds of years. Sure, they'd all die down and become less important over time, and the moon walk would likely still come off at about the same time, but...

But the point is that things would have changed. God's Omniscience would snap right into place and it's All There, and He's There, and it's all copacetic, spaghetti all over the plate as usual, God in His multi-transdimensional glory, all just as groovy and earthy and crunchy as all get out.

But... what if He did something else? What if he reached back and just flicked his finger at that bullet heading for old JFK's neck? What if he did that? Hell, you don't know, do you? You could maybe take some guesses, but you'd probably be wrong, and you'd certainly never grok the fact that this little finger flick would ultimately lead to the reintroduction of tri-corner hats as the ultimate in fashion for men in the 80's. You wouldn't know that, boopy, but God would, 'cause that's what the Dude *does*. That's his scene. Spaghetti on the plate, you dig?

So now here's poor God sitting there wondering if it's all worth it. There it is, all laid out for him, all our silly little lives, all our useless struggling, our foolish posturing, our petty cruelty and our sad little loves, and God knows he can change the whole damn thing just by sticking his little finger into the early 1960's and going .

Oh, yeah, you're thinking "Right on! Power to the Dude! Man, that's some trip!". Wrong. Man, you just aren't paying attention. We know he's got the power. He knows he's got the power. He knows what will happen if he flicks that little bullet out of the way. He knows whether that's good, or bad, or totally unimportant. But what he doesn't know is...will He do it?

You see, that's the problem. It's great being transdimensional, and polyunsaturated, and able to transcend tall buildings with a single bound. But if you want to know the future, you've got to leave it alone. Once you've set up the rules and projected where all the cookie crumbs are going to land, you've got to just let it happen, man. Because once you start messing with it, once you start thinking "Well, what if I just changed *this*", once you start that, well, all bets are off. That nice little eternal time line you've been staring at suddenly starts getting all gray and wiggly. The spaghetti is slipping off the plate man, 'cause the plate has turned into a g.d. dolphin whipping in and out of the waves of possibility like there's no tomorrow. And there *is* no tomorrow, or at least no tomorrow you can wrap your Godly self around, because you never know when you might decide to stick that damn finger in and give it a little flick.

"But He's God!", you wail, pathetic little thing that you are. Yes, we know he's God. But what we're dealing with here (what God was dealing with) is whether or not He knows if he WILL stick his finger in and change things. It's not that he can't, of course he can. And it's not that he won't immediately know every consequence of that action. But if the Dude already knows when and where he does poke his Omnipotent Nose into the Action, then he has no ability to do anything different. But if he does have that ability, then he can't know whether or not he will. Dig?

So that's why God was sitting there with sand in his shorts. Either he had to swear hands off forever, and just let it be, or he had to give up Omniscience. Enough to piss off the Pope, and then some. That's why God was in the Grand Daddy of All Bad Moods. The Big Boopy wanted to have his cake and eat it too (which is no trick at all for a God, you know, if you're talking ordinary cake, that is) and he couldn't. Or he can't, depending on how you want to look at it, and, as I've already told you, this is something you really *don't* want to look at.

So back and forth he goes. Give up Omniscience and enjoy mucking around with everybody's life? In a pig's rectum! What the hell good is a God without Omniscience? Ok, so give up messing with the script. Let it be as it will be. Hell, no. What the hell good is a hamstrung God? He's got to be able to rearrange the scenery any damn time he feels like it. No way. Not a negotiable item! So, fine, but now we're back to giving up Omniscience.

You can see why the Dude was ticked. If you'd had your own way for half of eternity and suddenly cottoned onto this little gem of a catch-22, you'd be clenching your cosmic fists just like God was.

Omniscience. No Meddling. Meddling, no Omniscience. Back and forth, forth and back, twist it upside down, wring it out, run it backwards through the wash cycle, up the flagpole, salute it, stomp on it, swear at it and kick it with a Cosmic Foot, but the problem just wouldn't go away.

So, there you have it. That's my whole story. I hope you liked it, and sometime when you are better prepared we'll talk about how the Dude came to be. You'll love that story... What? You want to know what he decided? Whether he gave up Omniscience or decided to bow out of the picture? Man, that's an irritating question. Don't you fricking understand?