Like God must feel, when HE’s holding a gun

(from)

So you see the problem he had now… the bigger your screen… the more interactive… the more you want to just… step into the scene. To actually be there. To be in it.

Innit.

So you see the problem he had – he couldn’t – he was God – separated from his creation by dimensional incompatibility… so he gave birth to himself, and became man. As it were. He became a little baby Jesuslet.

And what a fucking nightmare that turned out to be. It’s like the first (and only) time you go on a hydroslide and you wind up hurting your knee – “absolute fucking catastrophe”, he thought to himself afterwards, vowing never ever ever ever to do it again.

“Those people are a bunch of cunts – and the worst part of it is, a whole load of them started following me around like that Life of Brian – and they’ve been using me as an excuse to get up to all sort of peculiar shenanigans ever since… and they all seem to think I’m going to go back!. Fucking no chance.”

“Watch in on the telly – safety of my own home etc. Those people are a nightmare. Where’s the remote?”