The Father of Teeth

Text for today: II Caries lxi-lxxiii

In the beginning there was light, said the Father of Teeth, and by that light God was revealed to Himself. At this revelation God recoiled in horror, for He was in the image of mankind, which meant that He was neither omnipotent, not omniscient, nor wise, nor just, nor loving, nor powerful, but merely a local and temporary fluke of evolution with a talent for tribal hatred. Shrieking with rage, said the Father of Teeth, God closed His eyes, but the light shone through His eyelids; God covered His eyes with His hands, but the light shone through His fingers, and even through the bones and the marrow, so that He saw just as much as ever. So God clawed at His eyes, said the Father of Teeth, with fingernails grown like black scimitars from an eternity of contemplation, and amid much screeching and squelching and snapping He ripped His eyeballs from their sockets and hurled them away from Him. I caught them and ate them, said the Father of Teeth, although He didn't know I was there; and the void was convulsed with His agony, and darkness was upon the face of the deep. You can see, said the Father of Teeth, why the poor old bastard felt the need of some distraction.