Gott ist tot

Hey, it's Maureen's DH!! and this being my first official post I'd like to state to the anonymous readers: I don't think you're all cowards, only if you seek to defame and slander under your anonymity; that is cowardly and holds no respect. Anyway I have been honoured with an invitation to post here at MBB, and I've accepted!

So, there we were, our 8yro daughter and I, in the dining-room and she asked a question apropos the Mad Hatter and his head twirling capabilities whilst he was futterwacken. Thereupon I explained and this conversation ensued:

'The Mad Hatter, darling, is a fictional character, just like in a cartoon they can make it look like his head is spinning; but it really isn't.'

'What's a "fictional character"?'

'Fictional characters are people, animals, things, that don't really exist; like Santa Claus.'

'Santa is real!'

'Well then, like the Easter Bunny.'

'Dad! the Easter Bunny is real as well.'

'OK, then like who?' I ask my knowledgeable daughter who is looking up at me, eyes full of retribution and scorn for proclaiming the myth, and she pauses to think, and looks away. Her gaze returns carrying in it's wake a glint and a grin.

'Like God?' She almost whispers.

'Well, yes.' I reply, proud and shocked. Previously all of my theological discussions with our little angel have been more along the lines of god's existence being up to the individual and if she wanted to believe in god that that would be OK with us. I continued 'Don't you believe in god any more?'

'Well, I did, but then we went to Scitech and they said that everything around us came from the sun. At church they told us that everything comes from god. So, I don't think that god is real.'

Our conversation continued of course but ended with the same sentiment: Gott ist tot.

God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it?

—Nietzsche, The Gay Science, Section 125, tr. Walter Kaufmann

Or a more contemporary take:

God is dead,

and no one cares.

If there is a hell

I'll see you there.

—Nine Inch Nails, Heresy

Here's to our fictional characters (or should that be Fictional Characters?)

T.