This is a story that I found several years ago on a newsgroup. I thought it delightful, and so decided to put it up, here. Enjoy or hate, you choose.
There once was a Hindu god named ExNhilo. ExNhilo was before all other gods and there was nothing besides him. One day he grew bored and decided to invent Time. It is not clear what day he invented it, or what he did before Time began. It was also not clear how he could have reasoned logically before Time began, since that requires the sequencing of thoughts one after another. But all those things did not stop ExNhilo, as there was no one else to stop him.
After another while, ExNhilo grew restless and decided to invent something to amuse himself, for his own pleasure. So he fashioned a race of people after himself, creating them from dung, cow manure. One of these early people shookhis fist at him, so he decided to consign all of them to a season of injustice followed by an eternity of torment. In the first season he allowed some to go relatively pain free, while others he confined to a complete season of misery. He was quite satisfied with this arrangement, though the inhabitants of his universe were distressed by their final prospect of torment at his hands.
One day some of the inhabitants held a meeting and decided to elect the wisest among them to go to ExNhilo and ask him to stop the injustice, especially to stop his torment of their loved ones who had entered the second season of their lives. ExNhilo laughed at them. He reminded them that he was there first and that he would do whatever he wanted to and that there was no one to stop him. Then he chided them for using the minds that he had made and their naive belief that he, ExNhilo, would act in any reasonable manner.
Saddened, the wisest ones among the Dung, as they called themselves, returned back to their people to tell the sad news. There was much sadness that day that was added to their sorrow. But they took comfort in this one thing, that despite the present injustices of their season, they would all equally receive torment in their second season. They would all hang together as it were.
ExNhilo was not surprised by this strange twist of events by which the Dung were comforted. Indeed, he had anticipated it. Not to be out done, he sent out a new proclamation to his kingdom. From now on, he would no longer torment all equally. He had decided to only torment some, the majority, and he had decided to reserve happiness for a few. When asked how one might obtain the second happy season of life, he smiled and told them that he had already decided who would enjoy the happy season and who would remain to be tormented. He said he had decided not only for those present inhabitants, but also for their children. To prove it he showed them two books where their names were written in either one or the other.
The Dung pondered this happy proclamation for awhile. Eventually some wondered who was it that ExNhilo had chosen for happiness. Some said it was their family, while others thought naught. There became a great clamor over all the kingdom, as each family hoped that they might be the ones chosen. They were no longer united in their second shared suffering, but divided. And ExNhilo smiled.
Eventually some petitioned ExNhilo again, this time that their names might be recorded with ones destined to happiness. ExNhilo smiled again, explaining to them that it was now impossible to change his mind, that the books had already been written. Someone asked if he could use whiteout for the one book, and add his name in the other book in the margins. ExNhilo just patted him on the head and reminded him that he was made out of dung and that he was foolish in thinking that he could reason with his god. The man sadly went away.
Those were indeed dark days in the land of the Dung. Some youths were incensed about not knowing their future fate and grew frustrated. They started talking badly about ExNhilo and challenged his right to be their god.
ExNhilo smiled. This time he introduced Religion.
Again, he had all the people come together for a new proclamation. Every one was now required to practice a hundred and seventy one rules during their season of misery. He explained a hundred and twenty of them, and then recessed for lunch. After lunch a young boy asked if ExNhilo would be pleased with him if he managed to keep all the rules all of his life. ExNhilo patted him on the head and assurred the lad that he could not keep all of the rules that ExNhilo had thought of, and that even if the boy did, then he would still withhold his favor because he was made of dung. Now some thought this strange so they left the meeting early. Other studiously copied the next forty seven rules, but by then it was supper time. ExNhilo closed the meeting early without covering the remaining four rules, and by then they were all in agreement that it didn't really matter anyway.
That weekend the elders met together to discuss the new state of affairs. Some decided to start a new institution for the promotion of the new one hundred and forty seven rules. Others thought that would be pointless and opted out. The majority, however, thought that it would at least provide some relief from the tedium of their season of injustice and joined the other elders in forming a new society for the promotion of the rules.
Generations of Dung passed. Most entered into an eternal season of torment at the hands of ExNhilo, while a few passed indeed into a state of happiness as ExNhilo had promised.
Eventually ExNhilo grew discontented with the Dung. Many had embraced his new rules, albeit imperfectly, and were finding a strange comfort in the mistaken belief that he might be merciful if they only tried to follow his rules. They had forgotten that he would never be pleased with dung, and furthermore, silly creatures, he had already written the books of misery and happiness.
And so he made a proclamation and sent it out across the land, for by now the Dung had multiplied across the face of the earth. "Hence forth", he declared, "you no longer need to follow these rules which you do not follow and can not follow anyway." But the Dung were used to Religion by now and drew ready to revolt. "But how can we enter into the season of happiness?" They asked back to ExNhilo. ExNhilo thought this a silly question, since, as you know, the book of happiness had already been written. ExNhilo tried to ignore their messengers from the village elders, but still they petitioned him.
Excerabated, ExNhilo suggested that they try reciting a mantra, and he gave them a few different versions to pick from. He called it "The Sinner's Mantra". Many of the Dung gladly recited it, thinking that by so doing they might be put into the book of happiness. Their hopes would rise, until they discovered that their life after reciting the mantra was no better off than before they recited it. Then they would recite it again and again until their hopes would rise for a time, only to fall later. ExNhilo smiled, as their names had already been written, silly Dung!
Eventually ExNhilo died of self-inconsistency and life was thereafter much happier.
Fred Eichelman 1997