Yesterday I took a slightly different tone with the Almighty, and cursed him to hell and back.
The standard form these prayers are suggested to take is of a gentle request, a humble beseeching. I’ve not had any results worth mentioning with that, so I thought I’d branch out and try insulting, offending, and denigrating him, hurling the kind of language and invective skyward which would make a dock worker… shrug indifferently at how unimaginative and tame my attempts at verbal abuse were, I imagine. But still. I got pretty mean.
I’ve talked before about why there’s no good reason to privilege the hypothesis that God takes any particular form, or wants any precise thing from us, or responds to any of our actions more than others. Christians suggest I should ask him to inspire me and enter my heart and whatnot, but maybe the god who actually exists isn’t like that. Maybe he doesn’t respond well to banal obsequiousness, but could be goaded into a reaction by sufficient taunting.
So I spent a few minutes telling him what a worthless piece of shit he is and where he can shove his omnipotence.
No luck there either, it seems. Back to normal today.