Autogenesis 13

There are God and I, seated above him, laughing at your nothingness.

Taken literally, the sentence is absurd, and that very excess is the key to reading it.

Symbolically, when God remains silent, it is not to explain the world, but to reveal to the creative artist the immensity of the infinite that surpasses all human understanding. For it is indeed the artist, the one who creates in turn, who occupies this strange place. Facing the blank canvas, the artist knows the same silence attributed to God. By placing himself above God, the speaker adopts a posture so excessive that it turns against him. This laughter spares no one—not even the one who laughs, nor the artist who dares compare himself to God.

Dogma is the sophistication of bestiality when it ceases to be a search for truth and becomes a mechanism for protecting certainties.

The title’s sentence therefore does not seek to demean faith, but to overturn the reader’s gaze. The “nothingness” it targets is not merely that of others; it becomes the nothingness of every human certainty, including the certainty displayed by the creator who speaks.

Mathius TO’ERAU, the Suréviste.