Hunting Big G.

Something Mel said tonight gave me an idea for a novel. Let’s suppose that today’s generation of children has been born with a much higher level of spiritual awareness than earlier generations, and has extremely advanced, though latent in most, psychic abilities. And then further suppose that those abilities are so high in certain gifted individuals that they are capable of accessing the celestial plane, and that some catastrophic event has developed the gift to full potency.

OK, this group of individuals accesses the God realm in order to find God and take him to task over his cruelty and crimes against humanity as evidenced by the Old Testament. When they get there they find that God has seen the writing on the wall and gone missing, and that a party of angels is preparing to hunt for him with the intention of bringing him to justice at some supreme celestial court. Maybe they are led by a hugely wise, compassionate and liberal individual who has been cast in the role of fall guy for thousands of years. The humans are enlisted to help in the hunt here on planet earth, while other gifted beings are to become ground operatives in other parts of the universe.

But this is going to be some job. God is, after all, the granddaddy of magic. He could be hiding as a rose bush in an English garden, an obscure rodent in the jungles of Sumatra, a stone in the wall of the Taj Mahal, or a grain of sand on a beach in California. He might even be hiding in the magma at the centre of the earth. And that’s just on one planet. What about the rest of the cosmos?

How would this celestial intelligence agency (unfortunate initials, maybe) begin the job of second guessing God’s hiding place? And how would they recognise it when they came upon the spot? But find him they do, and bring him back to face the music. And then the trial begins…

It would take a special writer to bring such an idea to fruition – someone with an ordered and disciplined mind capable of linking complex strands into a coherent picture, someone possessed of an academic propensity who is practiced at holding a wealth of facts and data in their memory bank, someone with an encyclopaedic knowledge of history, the Bible and legal procedures, a person of high intellect and imagination.

I couldn’t do it; I’m not smart enough. I’m a drifter, a dreamer, a cynic, and something of a simple iconoclast. Besides, I’m lazy. But I know somebody who might be able to bring it off, given maybe another twenty years or so.