How Was The Universe Made?

This is a satirical "essay" written in one afternoon, fueled by nothing but Powerade, Japanese horror songs, and my imagination. It's loosely based off of the very basic creationist argument that the universe had to begin at some point, so God must exist because He had to begin the universe. Instead of going on to say that God doesn't have to have a beginning because God, I say... other things. Honestly, even I'm not sure what this is, and I wrote it. That's a good sign, right?

Any comments you have, positive or negative, are greatly appreciated! Not only do I want to grow as a writer in general, I'd like to expand on this lore(I think you could call it lore?) and possibly make a mock encyclopedia or something silly like that.

~

Human beings, having only recently realized that they’re on the verge of destroying the only readily inhabitable planet for countless light-years and still not doing very much about it(in the more developed circles, no less), are evidently a very short-sighted and narrow-minded bunch. They also seem to ask the same questions constantly, such as “How were we made?” and “Why do we exist?”

Being the arrogant bastards they are, human beings have attempted to answer such questions with whatever they have available. Surely, we must know this! We are humans, the greatest species to ever exist; how could we not know this?

To be fair, I’ve noticed that a slightly less arrogant explanation humans have been turning to for quite some time now: science. They’re making excellent progress on discovering exactly how life began and how it evolved, but there’s still one area where even the religious nutjobs are farther along than they are, and that is how their universe came into being.

You see, these proponents of science actually believe that matter and energy cannot be created or destroyed, and since the universe is made of precisely those two things, it has always existed and always will exist. Laughable, isn’t it?

Of course, using a little something called “common sense”, we know that something cannot come from nothing, and everything has a beginning. Therefore, the universe has a creator.

Your particular universe’s creator is a god named Abraxas. He has the head of a chicken, the torso of a moderately attractive white male human, and two snakes for legs. Being the self-centered megalomaniac he is, there is one constant in every universe Abraxas creates: eventually, at some point, an interpretation of him exists. His name and image is always the same, no matter what; he’ll gladly break his own arbitrary and self-imposed rules in order to feed his massive ego.

To be more specific, Abraxas is The God Of All That Does Exist. He created your universe, the six universes surrounding yours, the twelve universes surrounding those seven, the eighteen universes surrounding those nineteen(he has a strange fondness for hexagons) and so on, still creating universes to this very day. He also created very minor gods, some of which only rule one universe and others rule groups of them(referred to as multiverses), but seeing as how there’s an infinite amount of those and they have yet to create diddly squat, they’re irrelevant to the topic at hand.

Abraxas does have an opposite, whom he is locked into an eternal dick-measuring contest with, named Erebus. Erebus is The God Of All That Does Not Exist, which is quite odd, considering the fact that he exists. It’s akin to having a god of fire be made out of water.

Erebus, having a slightly smaller ego and better sense of humor, is far less active than Abraxas and doesn’t seem to care how overwhelmingly small the holes in reality he’s ripped are becoming as streams of gods and universes flow freely from Abraxas’ smooth, well-lotioned hands. He does, however, insist on having his name mentioned in every universe and occasionally influencing the behavior of more powerful gods, usually those who exert control over octillions of universes or more.

Put simply, you were created and controlled by two gods, Abraxas and Erebus. Abraxas wants to create things so he has a lot of things to be God of. Erebus wants to destroy things so he has a lot of nothing to be God of.I’m sure you’ve already objected to this explanation on the grounds that the gods would need a creator of their own. If you were a little more patient, I would’ve had the chance to fully explain myself.

Abraxas and Erebus were, in fact, created by a human-looking deity whose name is unutterable by human tongue. The closest approximation I could come up with is Siqewerichcheul, but for the sake of simplicity, it shall be called Siq.

Siq created Abraxas and Erebus in order to compete in a much more fantastical dick-measuring contest with thirty other contestants. These contestants and Siq make up the group known as Original Deities. The goal of the Original Deities is simple: using only a shoebox and your words, create the most intricate and mesmerizing collection of universes(which shall be referred to as a panverse from now on) you possibly can.

There are no judges, no rules, and at the beginning of the contest, there weren’t even enough shoe boxes—technically speaking, there are thirty-two Original Deities, but they were one box short and the Deity who didn’t receive a box is sulking in the corner being useless, so there’s no point in even calling it a Deity.

The thirty-one productive Deities instead prefer to compare panverses constantly, using petty insults and dirty tricks to appear superior. They can’t even decide on what makes a panverse great: Is it the number of universes? The number of panversal gods(such as Abraxas and Erebus)? The life quality of each universe’s inhabitants? The overall creativity of the setup? Nobody knows, nor do they care. They’ll simply do whatever they can to make themselves seem like the best.

As a result of all this childishness, they’ve developed some tendencies not unlike a group of hormonal teenagers with a collective IQ of tuna casserole: there are six cliques, created by the Original Deities to seperate themselves into like-minded groups. They are the Angsty Group, with four members; the Romantic Group, with seven members; the Clown Group, with six members, one of which being Siq; the Pretentious Group, with four members; the Nihilistic Deities, with three members; and the Preppy Group, with seven members.

Siq, being in the Clown Group, is a very eccentric Deity, who enjoys making everyone permanently miserable while still making it seem like there’s an opportunity to be less miserable. This is exemplified by the fact that Abraxas believes he will someday create so much that Erebus will have no choice other than to give up and stop trying, proving Abraxas’ greatness once and for all. Therefore, Abraxas cannot stop creating until Erebus has given up destroying altogether, and Abraxas can never rest. Happiness and peace of mind will always be just out of his reach.

In other words, a mischievous being created an egotistical being, which in turn created not only you, but infinite variations of you and everything you know, in addition to things you don’t know.

However, you may still be wondering: who created the Original Deities? If it’s so preposterous that our own universe could’ve existed forever, why is an exception made for them?

Well, seeing as you’ve managed to trudge thus far through the literary slop I have presented you with, I suppose it’s only fair to tell the truth: like many new writers, I stuck with what I knew, e.g., my own creation. You see, I, along with thousands of other inhuman creatures, are stuck in a large room full of typewriters and uncomfortable chairs, forced to write down the intricate lives and actions of any being that comes to our imagination. We do this not for our own amusement, but for the amusement of whatever malicious being gave us the curse of existence.

Yes, dear reader, I directly created you. You are not the puppet of some malicious chicken or an indescribable god, you are the entirely useless minor character shoved into a plotless story whose author wishes for nothing more than to be able to stop typing about your dreadfully boring life; and yet, I am powerless to stop writing about you, for I cannot stop thinking about you.

What if, say, you decided to stay home and eat a tub of ice cream instead of going to work? Oh, how your boss would fume! How your coworkers would gossip! How your stomach would despise you if it were capable of feeling emotions! Say, what if, all of a sudden, your stomach WAS capable of feeling emotions? What would an entire world of humans with emotional stomachs be like? What about a world of reptilians with emotional stomachs? The possibilities are endless, simply endless, and it is because of this I’ll never be able to stop writing!

Perhaps you’re going through a bit of a rough spot. I’m sure you’re apt to blame me immediately, but consider this for a moment: I physically cannot stop writing. Every time I think, I must write, no matter how asinine or disturbed of an idea it may be.

I can’t recall ever choosing to be this way, and surely if I had any semblance of autonomy I would simply stop writing and go make myself a nice glass of iced tea, provided it existed in my realm. Therefore, your sufferings are the fault of my creator, whoever it may be. And perhaps this it was created by a far more powerful, sadistic, apathetic it. The ultimate creator.

And, worse yet, perhaps that creator has its own creator. And that creator has a creator of its own. And so on, and on, and on, and on, as we must adhere to one strict rule: Something cannot come out of nothing. Therefore, there must always be a greater something which created anything you see.

How this could possibly be, I haven’t the faintest clue, but surely it makes more sense than a universe that’s always existed.