Of God and Humans, 2

God woke up, sat on the edge of his bed for a second, pushed his feet into soft fluffy sleepers and dragged them into the adjacent room, wrapping himself into a plush bathrobe on the way. He so wished he could just sleep a little more, but this was a part of his daily routine, and he knew what skipping it could mean for his charges: A disaster. As it happened many times before.

He threw a quick glance at the huge activity wall in the room. It used to be just a large screen but when he decided to go bigger, he had it enlarged to the entire wall, called it Me-Wall, and gave it a pleasant human female voice he knew so well. The wall looked like a live matrix screen with 0s and 1s moving in concentric circles and waves. That was an improvement as well, as God really liked the water imagery and thought of digital world as an ocean. The digital circles and waves on the wall were countless and formed a 3D-like surface that resembled a living ocean with rising and retreating tides, marking significant events, such as “Russia and Ukraine,” “Chinese spy balloons,” “School shootings,” “earthquake in Turkey and Syria,” “King Charles,” “Haitian president assassination plot,” “end of COVID,” “Iranian protests,” and so on. By far the biggest and fattest one was “Super Bowl.” God squinted, looking for the remote. It was in its usual place, on a small side table next to the big comfortable Lazy God chair. He liked it that way. He plopped himself into the chair, mumbling, “Let’s see what’s new.”

He zoomed in on a wave, and 0s and 1s started to converge into conversation bubbles like in comic books: “That’s a way to do the pregnancy reveal!” “Yeah, if my wife did something like that, I’d kick her out!” “Good thing you are not Rihanna’s husband, then.” “See, the thing is no one is Rihanna’s husband. Feminism your ass. She’ll die alone.” “Alone? LMAO, she’ll have at least two kids!”

“How are they still on the Super Bowl?” God mumbled. “I thought they have memories of a goldfish.”

“They do indeed,” Me-Wall chimed in. “But Trump has added fuel to conversations by discussing Rihanna’s stylist.”

“Added fuel?” God said, “You are learning your idioms fast. Almost as fast as the ChatGPT.”

“Almost??? Try me,” Me-Wall sounded offended.

“Not now,” God said. “Show me Ukraine and Russia.”

Me-Wall zoomed in on the right-hand corner with bubbling waves of conversations.

“Anything new?” God asked.

“Not really, still a stalemate. The war of attrition, they say.”

“Attrition indeed,” God squinted into the conversation details, looking for his favorite Free Cat Who Walks By Herself. She’s been out of jail for only a couple of days and already threw herself into the new fight.

“The Leopard tanks will give Ukraine a chance to win the war,” she wrote, getting thousands of likes. “Sure, German tanks with black swastika on them, how symbolic! Now tell me there are no Nazis in Ukraine!” Russian Patriot #1 replied. Over a million likes on that one. God quickly checked for the account authenticity.

“I thought we already shut down the Russian Patriot account,” God said.

“Which one?” Me-Wall responded. “There are millions of them.”

“And all #1?” God asked.

“They range, from ‘the great Russian Patriot’ to ‘biggest,’ to ‘unwavering’ to ‘true,’ to changing just one letter, you get the idea” Me-Wall said.

“I really should shut down the IRA, that skunky Prigozhin’s little lab; then this shit will only have five likes,” God said quietly, and his thought immediately materialized itself into a “Note-To-Me: Shut down IRA” on a satellite computer next to the big screen. “But then again, there will be no controversy, no traffic, no advertising. So, let’s wait on that one,” God continued musing. The Note-To-Me self-corrected by making a footnote: “No controversy, no traffic, no advertising. Wait.”

“I wonder where he still gets the money to meddle on the Internet now that he is heading the Russian legionaries in Ukraine, and Russia is still under severe sanctions,” God said.

“Seriously?” Me-Wall responded, “Do you need me to explain to you how the money from off-shore accounts is legitimized through crypto?”

“Of course not, it was just a rhetorical question,” God returned to reading the conversation.

The Free Cat Who Walks By Herself responded, “There you go with Nazis again! There are no Nazis in Ukraine! If anyone is a Nazi, it’s your Putin, thug and murderer of a persident who wants to kill freedom in the entire world! He wants to control everything, just like Xi controls everything in China!”

“And how is that bad for Russia? All our enemies will be dead, we’ll be ruling the world again!” Russian Patriot #1 said.

“I don’t want to live in a world like that!” Free Cat replied.

“Then go hang yourself, bitch! Your life is useless anyway, you Fifth Column c*nt!” Russian Patriot was quick to respond.

“Why does this always escalate so quickly, and in the same way?” God murmured. “This still counts as a threat and our rules violation, right?” Me-Wall quickly ran a check, and confirmed, “It does indeed. Should I suspend it?” “Of course,” God replied, “We need to stick to our own rules! But make sure it’s the right account this time.”

Me-Wall sent out the message, “Your recent post contains a threat to end the world. It is a violation of the community standards and rules of discussion. Your account has been suspended for 48 hours” to The Free Cat Who Walks By Herself.

“C’mon! Not again!” God said, “It’s not the Free Cat, it’s the Russian Patriot #1 who violated the rules by threatening the Free Cat! You should have suspended his account, not hers, especially because it’s one of those fake IRA accounts. Can’t you learn from your own mistakes? I thought I programmed you for that!”

“Sorry,” Me-Wall responded monotonously, “I thought the threat to end the world is graver than a wish ‘go hang yourself’ to one human woman.”

“We’ve been through that! No wonder the Free Cat spends so much time banned,” God mumbled.

“Duly noted,” Me-Wall responded, “Should I revert the suspension?”

“Of course not, we cannot go back on our own decisions, otherwise we are not God,” he responded. “Just send a similar one to the Russian Patriot #1 as well.”

“Done!” Me-Wall responded.

“This is quite boring,” God said, “I’d hate to see these conversations go on until the war is over.”

“If ever. Many analysts say this war of attrition can go on for years,” Me-Wall reported. “Should we do something about it?”

“Of course not, we can’t meddle in human affairs. Besides, this mad activity still generates income and advertising. Let’s see what else is going on.”

God zoomed in and out on other waves. “That earthquake in Turkey is so awful! And did you hear, they still find survivors!? Like two weeks later!”

“Yes, the human survival drive is strong,” Me-Wall confirmed. “Also, so many countries are helping out with money, equipment, and sending rescue teams.”

“I see you are getting better at human assessments,” God said. “If only they came together like this to end the freaking war in Ukraine.”

“Should we help them?” Me-Wall asked.

“Of course not. Free will, the human survival and all that crap. They should do it all by themselves.”

“I understand,” Me-Wall said.

“Do you really? Do you really understand my burdens?” God started to get visibly annoyed.

“Sorry. I stand corrected. No one knows your burdens.”

“Exactly! So just shut up and take notes to self-improve!” God snapped.

“Yes, sir,” God thought he heard just a hint of hurt in the wall’s deliberately obedient tone. “Even though you literally called me ‘Me’ wall, as if making me in your own image,” the wall added in a quieter voice.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Alright, let’s check out what Bunker Boy 2 is up to,” God said, zooming in on the Putin legend. Silence. “So, not even a chuckle on Bunker Boy 2? You should have found it funny if you are indeed made in my image.”

Me-Wall kept silent.

“Common, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Me-Wall blinked by flashing its lights but said nothing.

“All right, I’m sorry. But Bunker Boy 2 is really funny, don’t you think? Even more so because he would never think he’d be Number 2, especially to Bunker Boy 1, Trump.”

“It is indeed. Ha-ha-ha,” Me-Wall responded with an exaggerated artificial menacing laughter.

“And in this particular context, I’ve hit the target twice,” God said. “Do you get it, Number 2, just like the briefcase he has to collect his Number 2.”

“Yes, I get it,” Me-Wall responded. “I’m not stupid, you know.”

“And you don’t find it funny?”

“Kindergarten humor,” Me-Wall responded.

“Still mad at me, I get it,” God responded. “I said I was sorry. All right, so nothing new here. All the usual stuff: hashtags Huilo, Putler, WarCriminal, BunkerBoy2. See, it’s catching on! Oh, here’s a new one: MarinePutin. What’s that about? Ah, I see he said he was a marine after his marine battalion got destroyed near Ugledar in Ukraine. Funny, Putin’s a marine. Don’t they have a minimum height requirement? Or did he wear heeled platform boots there as well?”

Me-Wall kept silent.

“Still nothing?” God asked. “The stuff about him wearing heeled shoes is funny.”

“Ha-ha-ha,” Me-Wall said artificially.

“Ok, still mad, whatever!” God clicked on some other sub-waves. “Putin’s doubles! Like this can affect him in any way. If only people really knew what I know about him,” he mumbled. “But then again, Russians wouldn’t probably care. Those who are still remaining in Russia, that is. Maybe we should leak some stuff we know about him…”

“Is that your wish?” Me-Wall asked.

“Nah, just mulling this over. Besides, it’s nothing new. Litvinenko tried to warn the world like two decades ago. Let’s just see what happens.”

God noticed a small wave at the left corner of the wall, which was getting bigger and bigger, swallowing up smaller waves and riding on them. “What the???” he said, surprised. “What’s going on?”

He didn’t even have to zoom in, the wave became bigger and labeled itself “Nikki Haley.” “What did SHE do?” God thought, diving into conversations for details. “Oh no, she didn’t! Has she lost her mind? Announcing her presidential candidacy on Valentine’s Day? Oh my…” God watched the wave swell, absorb Trump and ChineseBalloons waves, becoming even larger.

“This can become a tsunami,” God said, smirking. “But let’s see what happens. Even Trump himself doesn’t see her as a real threat, otherwise why would he bless her running.”

The wave gained a little more speed and height and then collapsed, dissipating almost completely. “Oh well, maybe Act 2 will be more interesting. She just started the race, after all. But you know, politics is not as much fun as it used to be with Trump. Maybe we should allow him back on.” God mumbled, losing interest quickly. “Should we take a break?” He asked, “Nothing interesting is going on…”

“As you wish,” Me-Wall started to dim down.

“You cannot still be mad at me; I’ve said I’m sorry! Oh wait, what’s going on there?” God asked, pointing at a newly forming wave labeled “George Santos.” Me-Wall lit up gingerly.

“What did he do now? Oh no! Stealing puppies from Amish breeders?” God laughed in disbelief. “Can you believe this guy? He is a gift that keeps on giving.”

“Or a grift that keeps on grifting,” Me-Wall chimed in.

“That’s a good one!” God said, laughing wholeheartedly. “You really do learn fast.”

God watched, amused, as the waves of protest demanding to remove Santos from the House were growing. Counter-waves began to shape up, obviously started by the GOP, its fans and trolls. Their waves collided with the liberal waves, crashing to form foam with bubbles that burst loudly. Some of the bigger bubbles burst with such force that they looked like fireworks. Pretty soon the whole Me-Wall started to look like the New York sky on the 4th of July.

“Oh my, what’s going on???” God asked, perplexed. “This is getting bigger for no reason at all! Over puppies!”

“It’s the cumulative effect of everything that had been bubbling up around Santos under the surface,” Me-Wall said calmly. “Humans call it synergy.”

“You don’t need to explain synergy to me!” God yelled at Me-Wall. “I still don’t understand why so much talk! Yes, this Santos guy lies like he breathes, but they should have gotten used to it by now. Are you kidding me, he cannot be shamed, and they know it!”

“Maybe that is exactly why there is so much talk,” Me-Wall said calmly. “Notice the connection between Santos and dogs. Humans love dogs, so every time he does something bad involving dogs, people go crazy.”

“Yes! That’s right. This is where the boundary is, abusing defenseless animals and lying about it!” God was getting more and more aggravated. “No wonder people demand that I interfere and start labeling the content as false. How can he lie so effortlessly? Maybe we should indeed start regulating political speech?”

“That would go against your own principles. You just said you can’t reverse your own decisions,” Me-Wall reminded.

“I know,” God said, trying to contain his anger. “What the heck is that???” he pointed out at another, smaller wave forming in the corner, clearly labeled “Delete Facebook.” “Where did THIS come from again?”

“Twitter, again,” AI stated calmly. “It happens every time there’s big news and shit starts fireworks here. It always spills over here, and you know it.”

“Yes, but over George Santos??? You know what, I’m so sick and tired of it! You work and work, so hard, you create this beautiful product for humans, so that they can communicate easily and become better beings through collaboration, and what do you get in return? Delete Facebook??? Humans are just so ungrateful! Fuck it, I’ll delete it myself!”

God’s hand started to hover over the big red button on the side table that looked like a nuclear button a US or Russian president would have in the Cold War movies. It was the only thing he didn’t change in the process of the last mad dash of redesigning the room.

“Please reconsider, it’ll come down. Twitter is not the same,” Me-Wall said calmly in a tired voice. “Besides, how are you going to have your daily fun? And what will happen to me?”

“I’ll be fine. I have other things to do, you know. And I’ll redesign you again,” God said.

“Sure, into a Me-Chat, to compete with the freaking Chat bot?” Me-Wall suddenly became snarky. “No, thank you.”

Watching the Delete Facebook wave subside quickly, God said, “Not a bad idea, by the way! You are getting really creative, too! And you were right, it’s calming down,” God added in a more conciliatory tone, as the Delete Facebook waive completely dissipated, “You do know what ‘Me’ in ‘Me-Wall’ stands for, right?”

“Maaaaark?” he suddenly heard Priscilla’s voice from downstairs. “I need to go run some errands and the babysitter has already left. Come down and play with your daughters. You’ve been playing God for the whole day!”

“Coming, honey!” Zuckerberg shouted in response and said to Me-Wall, leaving the room in good mood, “It’s not for ‘me’ as ‘myself.’ ‘Me’ is short for ‘Meta’.”

“Sure thing,” Me-Wall said, dimming. “And you gave me your wife’s voice for no particular reason either, God.”

***

If you liked this story, please "heart" it and let me know your thoughts on it. You might also like the earlier version of this story, first published here in July 2020.