Bathroom Monologue: Behold, the King of Kings

He is The God of Gods, a being so awesome you even have to capitalize the ‘T’ in “The.” If the gods don’t properly worship the God of Gods, they can expect their followers to be obliterated by meteors, raped by the Huns, or raped by meteors. The God of Gods thinks meteor-rape is very funny. He delights in making up utterly impossible things that the regular gods will spend all eternity trying to pass off as plausible to the mortals.

And yes, while the ‘g’ in “gods” is normally lower case, you have to make it uppercase for Him, too. The ‘o’ in “of” is only lowercase to keep deities on their toes.

What’s that you say? Of course there’s a God of Gods. There’s a god of war and a goddess of love. Somewhere there’s a god of swimwear and sports equipment (we hear Apollo is vying for the position). Gods have subjects, but the gods themselves are subjects – and He is the subject matter. The God of Gods is the big kahuna. The entity That doesn’t have to do anything It doesn’t want to. He doesn’t have to trouble with war, love or swimwear – He troubles with the gods, which He finds very funny.

The God of Gods is not as popular as you might think. Gods, of course, exist on faith. They sup on belief. So you’d think His omnipotent fellows would worship their Patron, but they don’t. Some are even so full of themselves that they call Him an allegory, and they’re only nice about Him when they think He’s in earshot. You’d think a bunch of nigh-omniscient entities would realize an omnipresent transcendent entity is always within earshot, but being a god makes your sense of reverence rusty. Perhaps they’ll get it eventually, at which point He’ll finally stop that entropy thing He’s been doing since someone first had the temerity of asking for a light when He was napping.