Demiurgic Powers

‘And when did you first discover that you had special powers?’ The interviewer asked me, leaning forward keenly in his chair. He was young and stupid, but I supposed that I could not blame him for that. I took my time in answering. ‘Well – let me see,’ I drawled, ‘I suppose it was that time when I was eight and a half years old and one day it came to me that I hated the world and everything in it and so, in a paroxysm of childish rage, I instantly destroyed it and then recreated it to run according to my own laws, according to my own secret plan, and no one knew the difference because the analogue universe which I had created didn’t permit them to!’ My interviewer stared back blankly at me, momentarily confused. ‘Is that telekinesis, then, would you say?’ He asked, in a somewhat faltering tone. I explained patiently that it was not. I explained that telekinesis really had very little to do with it. I explained that that is not what this power particular power is called. The interview went downhill after this and I don’t believe I was ever invited back on the show again. Well – it’s not so much a matter of belief is it? It’s more a statement of fact – I was never invited back on the show. It wasn’t a very good show anyway. It was only a crappy daytime TV chat show which I don’t believe (in hindsight at least) to be a suitable vehicle for a man of my intelligence and sophistication. I don’t believe in turning everything into facile mindless entertainment just for the sake of distracting people for a few moments. It’s all very degrading, isn’t it? It’s all very pointless. I realise now of course that I should never have agreed to appear on the show – it is what you might call cheap trash of the worst and most despicable kind. It’s pure garbage from beginning to end. Rather like the analogue universe that I created when I was only nine years old, in fact. The first of many such analogue universes, I may add. The first of a long line of such universes. The first of what you may call a reiterative sequence of false worlds. Which means that I was also the ultimate author of that dreadful trashy daytime TV show, as appalling as it was, I noted with dry amusement. A fitting testament to my demiurgic powers. A fitting testament to my demiurgic powers…

 

 

 

 

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