Downloading God

6/22/05

by Diane Sprague

Moses got the best of me the other day. His sharply written retort to my argument irked me to no end. He dared to call me sniveling, little, and crude. I was going to respond to his smug post immediately with as much disdain as I could muster, but I decided to restrain myself and plan my attack with intelligent creativity. I could not allow my message board reputation to be diminished by giving anything less than a purely brilliant reply that would ensure that everyone would clearly see that it was he, not I, who was incapable of reasoned, rational thought.

So where to look for an image to accompany my masterful putdown that would once and for all show Moses to be the feeble-minded, insignificant bug that only haunts these boards to bolster his inflated sense of importance? Hmm...Moses...what a grandiose handle for such a tiny, wretched fool. Maybe a ridiculous picture of a mouse bringing down tablets of stone to his tiny next of vermin would illustrate my repulsion for this brainless braggart.

I went to the search engines and entered the words: Moses, mouse, and Mt. Sinai. A site came up called From the Top of Mt. Sinai. Since I needed something ridiculous and outrageous to illustrate my cutting response, I figured that was as good a place as any to begin my search. I went to my site. The page was dark, with occasional pictures of white lightening bolts flashing in the background. It showed the mountain towering above a tiny link written in deep blue Arial font. It said: Right Click to Download God.

Although I envisioned the possibility of loading tons of nasty spyware or viruses onto my system, my curiosity go the better of me. I right clicked the link. It would probably prove to be an unimaginative picture of a white bearded old man, but who knows? Maybe it would be something I could use. It was 8 MB. Perhaps it was a video of an old man dancing to the Hallelujah chorus. Or maybe just a clip of some performance of a popstar made by some deranged fan. I patiently waited for the download to complete. Open or Save. I opened it.

My screen change to a fuzzy gray. Just that, a fuzzy gray screen. No words, no images, and no commandments. I shouted some blazing profanity when I realized that this gray screen took over my whole computer. It was a virus after all. I pressed control, alternate, delete. Nothing. I fruitlessly pounded my keyboard. The gray stillness persisted. I pressed in and held my power key. Still the grayness remained. I yanked the power cord from the wall. Nothing changed.

This was impossible. I frantically smacked the monitor. What kind of deranged joke was this. How could there still be power? I sat back in my chair and took some deep breaths. Certainly, if this was the result of some malicious program, why would the developer pick a gray screen and call it God. Why wasn't more showing up? Maybe there was. I reached up and turned the switch on what should have been my dead speakers.

I heard the song of thunder. It was loud and foreboding. In the background, I could almost hear a child's voice. Maybe even my voice from long ago...a child lost in the darkness, counting between the thunderclaps. 1...2...3...4...Crack! 1...2...3...Crack!. I was overwhelmed by memories of my fear of storms and the way I soothed my fears away by counting and hoping that my numbers would go up higher each time to push the lightening to a safe distance.

On top of the screen a toolbar popped up with the words: File, Edit, View, Insert. I hesitantly reached up to hit file and then print. My printer started printing. I was shaking when I pulled the paper from the printer. On it were written just a few words, "Let it go."

The thunder sound stopped. The child stopped counting. I was surrounded by a calm sense of silence and peace. Nothing really mattered anymore. I could let it go. I laughed at the fuzzy grayness on my screen.

I did not know. I never knew. Nobody knows. Moses and I were just pretending we knew something. We were just making noise...just counting to push the thunderclaps aways, filling our screens with words, images, and malice to cover up the fuzzy grayness behind it all.

We wanted to forget we didn't know and we were frightened. But once it's remembered, the stillness and peace of the blank of not knowing was comforting. Maybe we did not need to fight it. Maybe we could let go.

I looked back at the monitor. An error box sat in the center of the screen with the message: We apologize for the inconvenience, but Windows has encountered a fatal error, but that's okay. It was a nice break from the ordinary. Please click any key to continue. Oh yeah, and you might want to plug the computer back in too.

I plugged the computer back in and pressed any key. My desktop came back up. I immediately went back onto the Internet. Everything seemed to be in working order again. I went on to my message board site. Moses' reply was still waiting for my response.

I clicked on his post, read his words, and hit the reply button. I started typing my response and slowly counted while I wrote the words.

1...I am finished with this. 2...I have nothing left to say. 3...Good luck to you, sir. 4...No one was right. 5...No one was wrong. I laughed at the silence at the end of my words. I reached the number five. No storms for at least a mile away. Maybe more. Perhaps in the gray stillness that surrounds us, we can leave it all behind. We can even download miracles.