Divinity of Celebrity, The

Tony Wrigley clicked on 'Print Document," raised his hands above his
head and turned to his flatmate as if he were saluting a crowd at
Wembley Arena.

"Nick" He said, "Dumb old, dreary, dull as hell,
never-had-an-original-thought-in your-life-Nick, I've done it, I'm a
genius!"

"Is it finished it then?" Nick asked stoically, picking his nose. He
stood pigeon toed, flat-faced and characterless beneath his
bobble-hat.

Tony shook his head and sighed.

"Sharp as a tack, Nick" he said, "as usual."

Nick made a gormless, shrugging gesture.

"I don't get it."

"It is done." Tony said, with finality. "My masterpiece."

"I'll put the kettle on then." Replied Nick. His expression didn't
change.

Tony exhaled loudly and raised his eyes to heaven.

"I'm extremely proud of it!" he told Becky, hours later, in the
university refectory.

"I think it's the best work I've ever done."

Becky, a bookish, introverted young lady, attempted to look happy. She
wasn't very good at smiling, it was something she needed more practice
at, but she could see that Tony was excited and wanted to join
in.

"Perhaps you'll allow me to read a copy." She said.

"Why not!" exuded Tony.
"I'd enjoy a second opinion before I submit it. I'll meet you here at
five and then you can come round to check it out!"

"That would be great!"

Neither of them could have known that their plans concerned the creator
of the universe.

**

"Shit" Said God, curling his upper lip. "I don't know how far I can let
this go." He stroked the grey stubble on his chin and lit a
cigar.

"Does this mortal vex you so?" Asked the Archangel Gabriel, the
slightest trace of indignation in his voice.

"Yes." Said God. "While he kept his ideas to himself it wasn't too much
of a problem. But now he's going to spread them to the girl, she'll
probably tell her friends and then before you know it we've got a
crisis on our hands."

The Archangel looked worried. God was normally such a placid fellow,
but this matter seemed to be really getting under his skin.

"Why don't you just smite them down oh lord?" He asked.

God looked harassed.

"You know how it is," He said. "I try to steer clear of smiting these
days. I was vengeful and jealous back in the beginning, when I was
still relatively new to the job and full of grandiose ideas about
morality. Often I acted rashly. I smote the Egyptians and the Sodomites
and the Gomorrans, but did it do any good? Man still ran around
stealing, murdering and coveting his neighbours ass. So I stepped back.
I haven't intervened in life on earth since I started the Great Fire of
London."

He blew out a huge, frothy plume of smoke and furrowed his brow in
contemplation.

"Do you actually realise what's happening down there Gabe?"

"No, Lord."

"I feared this would come about one day&;#8230; I made man too
well&;#8230; He has dominated the planet too utterly. I should have
balanced things better, given him a bit more competition. Anyway, you
know the old human saying about a million monkeys at a million
typewriters and by the laws of probability one of them writing the
complete works of Shakespeare?"

"I do"

"Well in a similar vein, after 10,000 years of man's philosophical
development, ten millennia of trial and error, this Tony Wrigley has
got it."

"Got what, oh Lord?"

God cleared his throat and fixed Gabriel coldly with his brown
eyes.

"IT."

"You don't mean&;#8230;"

"&;#8230;I do"

The Archangel Gabriel went very pale.

"Jesus." He said, grimly.

**

Tony met Becky in the student bar.
A couple of pints of subsidised lager lifted the veil of social
incompetency, that intellectuals so often draw over their lives. Becky
moved closer to Tony.

"What's the paper called then?" she asked, taking off her glasses,
looking mildly flirtatious.

Tony was immediately struck by how attractive her eyes were without
magnification.
He visibly swelled with pride, taking a sip of beer and a long breath
before announcing, "The Divinity of Celebrity."
Becky enjoyed the melodrama.

"Sounds fascinating." She said.

"Its an original theory of course" trilled Tony, "one that I've
developed over the last five years or so. But you'll see it later. Why
don't you tell me what you've been up to?"

Becky screwed up her nose impishly.

"I've been researching for a paper on the social construction of
Feminism via women's magazines and visual media."

"Oh" Tony looked unimpressed.

"Of course its very trivial compared to your work!"

He liked that.

"Drink up!" He said. "Time for the revelation."

They gathered their things and got up to leave.

"Just one thing." Tony said.

"What?" Becky seemed concerned.

"You may meet my flatmate Nick. Just to warn you in advance, he's a
total loser, a dropout. Not a brain cell in his head. If he speaks to
you, just ignore him."

"OK" Becky said. She was unused to being involved in such intricate
social interactions and felt flattered.
"Whatever you say."

**

God was keeping a keen eye on Tony and Becky when Hermes appeared
panting, his winged trainers smoking from activity.
"Great Zeus" Hermes said.
"I bring the latest sin figures. Yet more evidence of man's spiritual
descent to Hades."

God's face bore an utterly apathetic expression. Disillusionment shone
from his eyes. He pointed at a table next to where Hermes stood.

"Pass me my glasses, will you?" He said.

Hermes did as he was told.
Some time passed. God appeared deep in thought. Hermes cleared his
throat loudly.

"Tell me your news then." God sighed.

"Fornication, fellating and buggery are up by 9\\\\% on last month,
great one. Adultery has reached such absurd proportions that we've
stopped measuring it. Covetousness is now at almost 100\\\\%
saturation. Robbery and Theft are committed on a daily basis by 52\\\\%
of people and worse still, self worship is increasing at a staggering
rate. Since the episode with David Icke&;#8230;.

"&;#8230;..a sorry affair." Said God.

"all of them seem to be getting into it. It appears that the modern
human-being actually prefers to worship himself."

"But Michael Jackson is still popular is he not?" God asked, suddenly
anxious.

"Less so than before"

"And what of Tom Jones and Madonna?"

"So, so." The Archangel made a fluttering gesture with his hand.

"Surely Westlife still attract adoration."

"Even their light is dimming, master. Forsooth, these are Godless
times. The fashion now is for DJs."

"But I gave them no talent." Said God, incredulous.

"They manage without it Lord.".

"This situation is worse than I thought." God said.

**

Tony took Becky up to his tiny flat and made some freshly ground
coffee.
They drank their Colombian blend and made academic small-talk for a
while. Then Becky, emboldened by caffeine and still feeling her two
pints of lager said.

"Tony, can I see it?"

"Now?"

"Yes Please. I'm dying to."

Tony nodded solemnly, walked over to his desk and returned with a sheaf
of paper. He handed his thesis to her with a smug smile.

"Enjoy," he said.

**

God convened the meeting on the pool patio at the back of his house,
bringing his minions to order by using the hammer of Thor as a
gavel.

"Silence!" He bellowed.

"Occupants of heaven! I bring you here today to discuss the gravest
crisis we have faced since the dawn of time!"

An awed hush fell over the assembly. Demigods, immortals and acolytes
exchanged anxious glances. "Has Satan conjured great centres of sin in
which man can live in filth and degradation?" Asked Krishna, trembling
with fear.

God looked at him dismissively. "Get on the trolley." He said. "That
happened ages ago."

The divine Buddha, who was hovering in the lotus position about three
feet off the ground, spoke next.
"Has man finally denied the perfection of his true nature and begun to
use his energies for destructive purposes, revoking humility and
allowing his mind to be clouded by selfishness, greed and jealousy,
thus abandoning forever the road to inner-peace?"
His bottom lip quivered as he spoke and a sheen of sweat glistened on
his hairless head.

"You need to get out more." God cried, indignant. "Man's always been
like that."

"Are the commandments forgotten and the people I led to the land of
milk and honey once more roaming the wilderness?" Asked Moses, frantic
with worry.

God rolled his eyes upward and tutted audibly. "Give me strength." He
said.

"Irie!" Through a thick cloud of smoke in the corner, the immortal Jah
made his contribution.

"Let the wicked, who is wicked, be wicked still." He said.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" cried Gandhi.

Jah looked at him, red eyed.

"I and I, rastafari" He croaked.

"Ignore him" Said Wodin, in typically aggressive fashion. "He's
tripping."

"At least people still believe in him" chirruped Mother Theresa, who
always took sides with the underdog.

"PLEASE" cried God, rapidly growing exasperated. "Let us not squabble
between ourselves. We have enough to deal with as it is. A young
intellectual has uncovered the knowledge that will lead to man finally
coming to terms with his relationship to heaven. I fear that once this
knowledge becomes common it will lead to our final downfall."

"Are we talking about the knowledge?" asked Muhammed.

"Yes" God looked stern.

"Well why hasn't something been done to stop him?"

"It's the age old question. Interventionism or Laissez-Faire, how
should a God behave?"

"I know, it's tricky" was all the true prophet of Islam could
offer.

"Will everyone please turn their attention to the big screen," God
said. "I have brought you here to see how things develop. When a
conclusion is reached, we shall decide on a course of action."

The lights dimmed overhead and the gathered masses of deities and
deified turned to the enormous screen behind the pool which was now
showing live pictures from Tony's flat.

**

Tony sat cross legged on the sofa, chewing his left thumbnail. He
scrutinised Becky's face as she read, analysing every tiny reaction.
Was that eyebrow raised in scepticism or interest? Is that disapproval
showing in her furrowed brow, or merely concentration?
Becky read for a very long time. Twice Tony had to leave the room, the
tension becoming too great to bear. Almost an hour had elapsed before
she made a little noise, took off her glasses and put the manuscript
down. She looked shell-shocked and stared blankly into space.

"Well?" Tony asked, eager for admiration.

"I don't know what to say." Becky spoke slowly and her face was
expressionless.

"Does it change the whole way you look at things?" He prompted.

"No"

"What did you think of it?"

"I thought it was&;#8230;."

"&;#8230;yes&;#8230;"

"&;#8230;well ...unconvincing."

A great cheer went up in heaven. Tony tried not to look too
deflated.

"You didn't agree with the hypothesis?"

"Its not just that Tony" she said. "It's the whole thing. You assert
that Jesus was a prototype rock star and that all the great religious
leaders, by engendering hysteria and idolatry set the trend for rock
stars of recent times."

"Its undeniably true!" Tony protested.

"OK!" said Becky, "I'm not arguing with that part. I suppose it's
reasonable enough. But to turn the thing around and state, by proxy,
that therefore rock stars are simply puppets of God is silly,
ridiculous even."

"Atta girl!" Said God, exchanging winks with Elvis.

"But that's not the whole point." Said Tony, desperately. "You're
criticising from a very superficial level. You have to go deeper than
that Becky. You have to see the spirituality, the communion in fans
coming together to pray at the feet of their chosen one. There's a bit
of God in that Becky, don't you see? In these modern times God is
dying. Through selected immortals, placed before us, to receive our
adoration, he can illicit the praise, the worship, that he needs to
sustain himself. So he sends angels among us to give the joy that can
bring us closer to him. The crux of it is, that God only exists through
us. Without praise or belief, he disappears."

Becky looked in wonder. The intensity on Tony's face was something to
behold. It ironed out the slackness in his jaw and the dimness in his
eyes. Self belief made him beautiful.

"Don't you see?" He implored again. "I've taken the basic hermeneutic
standpoint and&;#8230;"

He wasn't able to finish his sentence. Becky threw off her cardigan and
dived on top of him. Soon they were rutting like wild animals.
Aphrodite watched the screen with a little smile. Bacchus, sitting next
to her, crossed his legs to hide the bulge in his trousers.

"And there lies the problem!" Cried God. "Man has shown us in the past
that once the methods of worship become overused, he ignores them. We
have avoided this problem in recent times by disguising worship as
something else. But if this irritating little smart-arse starts
spreading the truth around, then we're back to square one."

There was a great awkwardness among the dwellers of heaven. They
shuffled in their seats and mumbled nervously. The situation was
clearly a cause for great concern.

"The girl didn't believe him." Said St. Francis of Assisi. "I don't see
what the problem is."

"Even when the truth seems absurd it is still the truth." God replied.
"She will realise that in time and so will others. The seed is sown.
Either we allow it to germinate, or we tear it from the ground."

"I still think we should just smite them down" Gabriel said, sitting at
God's right hand.

"Nobody's doing any smiting," replied God. He was beginning to sound
annoyed.

"This liberalism is getting out of hand. I fear simple discouragement
will not suffice" said Muhammed, prepared as ever, to adopt the hard
line. "We must be firmer."

"Exactly what are you suggesting, prophet?"

"I suggest three of us be chosen to make this visitation. We destroy
the document and take their memories. The chances of the truth being
discovered again are remote."

God smiled. Once again you have spoken wisely Muhammed. I shall take
your advice."

"But who shall be the three to make this visit?" Asked Pope Pius
IV.

"I shall retire to my room and decide." Said God. "Thank you"

The assembled crowd slowly dissipated, chattering and arguing about
what they had heard.

Tony temporarily forgot his thesis and the puzzling riddle concerning
the true nature of God. He had never in his life had sex remotely as
good as that which he had just had with Becky. The two of them snuggled
together on the floor and fell asleep.
God meanwhile sat on his huge four-poster bed, smoking a cigar,
pondering who to send. It didn't take him long to decide.
The holy triumvirate were summoned and dispatched to Tony's flat on the
most important mission in the history of heaven and earth.

Tony awoke sharply from restful sleep, to see Nick, long faced and ugly
in his bobble hat, standing over him.

"Wake up," Nick said in his grating Brummie accent. "I just got back
from my night shift and found you on the bloody lounge floor."

Tony pushed him away.

"Get lost," He said, almost spitting the words.

Nick headed to the kitchen.

Becky, wearing only a pair of panties and a bra, was brushing her
tangled hair by the window.

"Alright sweetheart?" Tony asked her.

Becky turned to face him with an adoring smile.

"Yeah, you?"

"Couldn't be better&;#8230; I was having the weirdest dream last
night though."

"Go on?" Becky looked quizzical.

"Yeah. I was walking through the park and I met Kurt Cobain, Sid
Vicious and Jimi Hendrix. They told me to give them my thesis, leave my
studies and learn how to play the guitar. I was getting so into it, and
then Nick woke me up. It was so vivid. It felt real."

Becky didn't know what to say. Her lip shook for a while.

"I had the same dream!" She said eventually. She was so touched that
they had shared the experience. Tears pearled down her pink
cheeks.

"Do you think it means something?" She looked a little awed, as if the
thought had humbled her. "Is it a message?"

God bit his fingernails. So did Gabriel.
"What do you think?" The angel asked.
God looked ready to explode. Gabriel had never seen him so angry.
"Things were going so well until this Nick woke them. Now its all back
in the balance. Mark my words Gabriel, if this mortal has foiled the
plans of the almighty he shall face the terrible wrath of
heaven!"

Gabriel couldn't help but give a little smile. He liked the sound of
that.

At last Tony answered. "No, it's not a message Becky. It's just a
dream, a subconscious manifestation of self-doubt that was buried
within my psyche. I'm going to go hand my thesis in now. You
coming?"

They both dressed as quickly as possible and hurried out of the flat.
As they left, a terrible thunderstorm erupted suddenly in the peaceful
sky.

Nick, finding himself home alone as usual, went to the toilet. After
re-zipping the flies on his brown corduroys, he went over to the
mirror. Taking off his bobble hat, he allowed his lank, greasy hair to
fall about his acned cheeks. His features bore a hang-dog, defeatist
expression, his little round shoulders hunched inside a C&;A
jumper.
With great care and laconic elegance, he touched the tip of one of his
horns with a delicate finger.
"Sharp as a tack" He said, grinning a huge, dirty smile.
"Sharp as a fucking tack."

15/8/99