Good morning, this is the Hammersmith Apollo, how may I help you?
Hello, I’d like to book a few dates at the Apollo please in December.
Ok, may I ask who’s calling?
Yes, of course, this is God
I’m sorry, who’s speaking?
I just told you, this is God the Almighty, maker of Heaven and Earth etc etc
Is this one of those prank calls. You’re not Derren Brown doing one of those hypnosis things are you?
Derren Brown is Godlike in many respects I grant you, but he is not THE God, that happens to be me, and I’d like to book the Apollo for a comeback tour. I’ve been feeling a little bored recently – eternity isn’t what it’s cracked up to be. The last really interesting thing I did was bring the universe into being, but that only took a week and, apart from some pretty spectacular stunts in the glory days, things have gone a bit quiet. I try to keep busy though; a bit of light weeding in the garden of Eden, polishing the stars, you know general heavenly housekeeping, but mostly I just potter about in my gromit slippers. Anyway, the thought crossed my mind to maybe get #unbored at the Edinburgh Festival, perhaps doing a little celestial improv, but then I saw the ecstatic reviews for Kate Bush and thought that’s more like it – why not give it a go? Admittedly, a 2,000 year wait is a tad longer than 35, but just think of the level of expectation and the ticket sales. I’ll call the show ‘The Second Coming’, obviously, and we’ll make full use of social media – #the second coming, @theoneandonlygod etc.
I notice Kate’s show is a real family affair, with a starring role for her beloved son Bertie. I’ve been thinking along the same lines myself, but my beloved son is having none of it. He says his last appearance on Earth was a disaster, and he’s not going through that again just to boost ticket sales. I don’t blame him, but a double act would have been nice. A comedy trio would have been even better, but the Holy Ghost wanted top billing, so it looks like it’s going to be a one-God show.
Like Kate I lost confidence over the years. I started getting stage fright, which explains the lack of miraculous appearances during the last 100 years or so; and, no, it’s got nothing to do with massive leaps in scientific discovery, leading to a growth in Atheism thank you very much. Mind you that Richard Dawkins chap isn’t helping with his God Delusion bunkum is he? I mean, honestly, who needs the Devil when you’ve got old Dawkins on your back? And don’t get me started on Ricky Gervais. That tweet of God account he chats with isn’t real you know. I can’t even access the internet, because apparently Virgin are all a bunch of atheists, judging by their replies to my emails requesting an internet account. And why does everyone think I look like a cross between Einstein and Old Father Time – doesn’t George Clooney ever come to mind?………….Are you still listening, you’re very quiet.
Unfortunately yes, I tried hanging up 5 minutes ago but there’s something wrong with my arm, I can’t seem to move it.
Ah, that’s the Will of God that is, I’m willing you to stay on the line with the Divine Will of God.
Ok, I get the picture. This could still be Derren Brown though. You could have hypnotised me so I can’t move my arm and I’ve forgotten all about it.
Will you stop obsessing about Derren Brown. No, I COMMAND you to stop whining on about Derren Brown. In fact I’ll smite down the next person who mentions Derren Brown; wait, I just mentioned Derren Brown three times. Good God that’s four now – remind me not to take my own name in vain – and, obviously, I’m not going to smite myself; that would probably lead to some kind of anti-matter black hole or something, swallowing up the entire universe; but what do I know, I’m no Brian Cox.
I’m going to call the police on my mobile, with the arm I can move, and tell them there’s a nut job claiming to be God on the phone.
Am I detecting disbelief here? Ok, what’s on your desk.
Err, a phone, obviously. A cup of tea, a laptop, pens and a bottle of Volvic water.
Look at the water.
Right I’m looking. It appears to have been replaced by a rather nice bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape.
Never fails that one, the old ones are the best. Anyway about my one-God show. I’m working on the all important image. There’s a bit of a problem there, as no-one seems to know what I look like; even I don’t know what I look like. I think I might be some kind of shape-shifting, ethereal, cloud type thing, which is good because I’m thinking of morphing into George Clooney. Most people can’t tell the difference between George Clooney and God anyway; and I don’t think the old burning bush image would work too well in this day and age, let alone getting it past health and safety. Like Kate, I won’t allow photography. My image is sacred and I can’t have every Matthew, Mark, Luke and John posting it all over the Net, even if everybody thinks it’s George Clooney.
I know my Volvic just turned into wine but I think I should tell you I’m an Atheist.
Really? That’s a surprise……..NOT. What don’t you like? All that smiting, plagues of locusts, floods, that kind of thing? Well that was the Old Testament me. I like to think I’ve mellowed with age, moved on as it were. I mean I ‘ve kept a lid on that massive volcano in Yellowstone for years – mind you, a wrong word from you and BOOM, that’s the planet gone – just kidding! I can see where you’re coming from though; the world’s a depressing place. My son’s been on happy pills ever since that unfortunate incident when he was 33, claims he’s got post traumatic stress syndrome. I don’t know why I’m telling you all this; must be the aeons of time I’ve gone without speaking to another living soul. I see dead people all the time of course, that kid from the sixth sense has got nothing on me, but somehow it’s just not the same.
Right, this is getting really weird. While I wait for DB to spring out from behind the filing cabinet and tell me this is all one of his clever jokes, I might as well ask when you want to book the venue; then I’m going home for a lie down and a visit to the doctor.
That’s the spirit. I was thinking the 24th, 25th and 26th December – I like to do things in threes – and what better time to make a comeback than on my son’s birthday. Between you and me though my son doesn’t ‘do’ birthdays. Apparently he has ‘issues’ with the circumstances surrounding his birth – conceived out of wedlock, massive age gap between me and his mother, and I didn’t even stick around to pay child maintenance. I said look son, you’ve been hanging onto this for over 2,000 years, why can’t you just let it go? But he wants us to appear on the Jeremy Kyle Show, feels it’ll be cathartic. I said you’re barking up the wrong tree of life there, the ancient Greeks did Catharsis, we do Confession. I must admit his mother and I drifted apart after the immaculate conception, but what could I do, she married somebody else.
I thought I’d end the show with a Q&A session, that seems to be the thing now. You know, I could explain why death and disease seemed like good ideas at the time. Why I bothered creating the slow worm. Why prayers seem to go unanswered (that one’s highly technical). Anyway, if you could pencil in those dates for me that’ll be fine. I have to go now. I’ve got a few more calls to make then it’s time for a nice glass of wine, and my son just ordered in the loaves and fishes – the Holy Ghost is whinging ‘cos he didn’t get a look in. Anyway, Blessings to you and the rest of mankind, and see you live at the Apollo!