(Being an Inspired Declaration of Gnostic Truth Directed Primarily At the Irreligious and Likeminded Fools)
as channeled by one Verne Robeson
Humble Servant of His Omnivorous Majesty
Even now, God congeals out of a thick swatch of black mist in the nether regions far above you.
He grins ferociously, baring ebony teeth that glint and glisten like horrible dark mirrors.
He tears a hole in the sky and stares down directly at you. He can see through you, and into you -- even in your smallest parts.
He watches your squishy organs quivering with the pathetic rhythms of your meager life.
Even the Golgi apparatus tucked within your most insignificant cell cannot escape His all-seeing eye.
He observes patiently, flexing His pincers... waiting for the prime moment to devour the delicate morsel of your soul.
When the moment comes, He will roll it daintily and efficiently in seaweed and rice, then chop it into bite-sized chunks.
Betraying eons of practice, He will dunk your soul in a mix of wasabe and soy sauce, plunk it in His mouth and chew with indescribable glee.
He will digest your essence for ten thousand years until your spirit is naught but a wisp of ether emitted in a cosmic cloud of flatulence.
You are nothing; you are less than nothing.
You are mere sustenance, food on the hoof: a piquant flavor, a succulent texture, a between-meals snack.