Once upon a time the young god spoke into the void, clapping his hands:
	"I must have amusement! Make me stars!" And so there was. Next he called for earth,
solid and firm, so there were planets. But the planets were cold and empty, so he called for
life, and there was. The life was stunningly beautiful. Lush plants, exotic animals, chillingly
lovely fish swam in crystal waters, with skin like jewels.
	The young god grew angry. He had been born of great beauty and placed in a position
of power, but he was cruel and selfish in spite and perchance because of his handsomness. He
grew jealous of the perfection he had created.
	The young god raised his hands. Everything he thought of greater beauty than he
withered and died. Carping and whining for forgiveness with their dying breathe, the young
god ignored 
	The young god decided to use more caution. He made a proud, angry race of ugly
monsters who he would use to kill anything he deemed more wondrous or lovely than he. He
created, unknowingly in his image, human beings.
	Unable to see the similarity between himself and his creations, the young god grew
amused by these pathetic creatures. He could have been said to almost fall in love, as much as
his cold, proud heart would permit. For countless eons they were his diversion. He created no
more after these strange, sad creatures. He could not take his eyes off them.
	They seemed to be complaining forever on and on about how their lives were not
complete without money or furniture. But when they got what they wished for, (the young god
permitted it, on a few occasions, it amused him) it was never enough. They would fill their
home to the brim, then sit with their possessions, becoming little more then wax figures. There
were muleheaded maidens and pigheaded fellows. The young god bid them to be married. He
gleaned his greatest amusement from this. The couples would bicker all day, then after they
had collapsed from exhaustion, the young god would fill their dreams with memories of the
great beauty he had destroyed not so long before their creation. 
	The children they raised were haughty and spoiled, trying only to keep from becoming
like their parents. Often they were lazy, good for nothing, but every now and again one child
would create a work of great beauty, revered by some. This enraged the young god, no mere
mortal should have ever been able to create beauty with the meager tools he had given them,
only destroy. So he sent others to deface and destroy the thing of beauty, whatever it may
have been. 
	More often than not, the angry, young god would end the creator's life, shutting the
door on him forever. This also inspired fear in the other mortals. They made laws and rules,
prohibiting true beauty. 
	They instead began to completely focus on the material world. This pleased the young
god. He now could observe his creations without the fear that one would become as beautiful
or as powerful as he, and he could meddle with their lives unnoticed, save for the vague, all
encompassing fear they had of him. 
	As time passed, he needed less and less to meddle with the humans to make them
miserable, they did it themselves! He only needed to sit back and watch as they devised new
and cruel ways to make others unhappy. Sometimes humans would propose a contest or two
wherein many would die or be injured, these were called wars, or sports. Other humans loved
to watch them, almost as much as the young god, himself did. The laws that had been made
about beauty had been widened to ensure not human was ever truly happy. The ones who
were, were often caught by a policeman and taken to prison. On occasion, people who made
others unhappy were taken to jail too. The young god made sure that they were the ones who
got out. The murderers, a couple of thieves, evil in general was allowed to run rampant, to
please the young god.
	Someday, I'm sure something new will catch this young god's eye and his stifling gaze
will be torn away from us, but it has yet to happen. Eventually he must see how like him we
are then, possible we may be destroyed. It would almost be a blessing. Perhaps he will grow
weary and abandon us, which would also be a blessing.
	Whatever may come, let us hope this angry. young god gives us a chance to regain the
lost beauty he so carelessly destroyed on this puny little rock called Earth.