Sorry? I wasn’t quite listening. What exactly is it impossible to prove the existence of?

The Universe evidently having had to do something, did something.

Well: would you prefer to be a different person or not?

Life (said Lucifer) is largely a question of sudden bad decisions.

The Omnipotent compelled to stratagems against his own creations!

I’m afraid the entire Universe gets on my nerves sometimes.

No. Surely sometimes the Universe seems to be an almost classical example of colossally misapplied effort?

Oh, yes. Love may perhaps be what the Universe is all about. (Or perhaps not.)

After all, what can an entirety be about? There is nothing left for it to be about.

Or perhaps All-That-Is, in (as it were) a moment of rare weakness, somehow merely collapsed into Existence?

For what is life at all, if not a sort of holiday from non-existence?

(Who’s to say it didn’t? You know all about such things, do you?)

If Cleopatra’s penis had been even half a yard longer, then the entire history of - eh? what?

No, I prefer to be lovely in the real Universe, thanks.

There is no other there.

But the actual world is in so many ways an interruption to God’s real work!

I prefer to be lonely in the real Universe, thanks. ...