His name -- Bob. Bob the creator of all that is or ever will be. Humans amused him most of all. A creature torn within by hate and love, compassion and cruelty, capable of profound tenderness and generosity while yet forever striving to impose its will upon not only others of its kind but on all living things wherever they may exist. A supremely domineering, aggresive and vicious life-form. They knew not that will was his alone, that they had not the power to affect genuine change. Yet, they tried, all the more forcefully for their failures amidst great loss. Carnage deterred them not; loss of life and limb, devastation of all structure -- symbol and substance of civilization -- were seen as necessary sacrfices for the greater good, however that may be defined.
Bob found this endlessly entertaining. They lived within the envelope, so could not know of their folly, of their hopeless attempts to transform the way they are. Only he could do that. Only he, Bob, the all-powerful overseer of the universe.
However, one day, Bob was dozing in his garden when suddenly he was awakened by loud discordant noise. He was deeply concerned as he forbad discordance in his outer realm. He immediately propelled his mind into the ether, searching for the source of this egregious offense. Scouring the many worlds on which intelligent beings lived and had their being -- there's lots so it took some time -- he homed in on one particular human residing in one locale. His moans and cries within his soul were abominable, bone-shattering, nerve-racking, to say the least. With his mind on full alert, Bob dove into the inner law of this creature, the world of which he was in charge. He sifted, analysed, classified and separated until at last he saw. An ache. An all-abiding odious twisted malignant misaligned ache the likes of which he had not created. Surprise filtered down and through his very nature, his law unto himself.
How could this be? he asked to no one in particular, being a recluse and loner. He preferred it that way. Whence has this come? He sat in his garden listening to the sobbing, the anguish, the crying, and wondered of the source. Truly, he said aloud, I did not want this. Some pain and suffering is necessary to learn the value of life's better half, but not this, no, not this, I did not want this. He thought some more. Has this come about on its own? Has it grown from a seed of its own, shaping this deep agony into its twisted ugly form? Who has allowed this to happen? Certainly not I. I would never wish such on my creations.
Bob continued to think throughout the day. As dusk fell he finally arrived at a conclusion. There can be no other, he said to himself. Bob talked to himself a lot, it went with the territory. The humans have turned their backs on life. They wage war with it, with what I gave them, infused into them, bestowed upon them. The heartrending torment, the distress and despair so plagued him he thought to banish it forever, for all time and space, wipe the slate clean and begin anew, fresh. Perhaps he had made a mistake, he thought; mayhaps he was not perfect after all. A crisis of confidence passed though his formidable mind like a shiver of ice. In that instant he saw, he confronted the source of the trouble.
The soul of mankind had become corrupted by its greed to be him. To aspire to Bob-hood. How could he have allowed this? In the beginning, he had purposely withheld the failsafe. In his enthusiasm to create such a being, he had deliberately left out himself. He gave them free will to do that which he believed they would automatically aspire to. How perverse! he declared in a booming voice that shook the trees and bushes and very ground on which he stood.
In that very same moment, he decided to correct it. He couldn't stand to hear this misshapened pain anymore. He decided to bring an end to the cause of this all too-unnecessary suffering. In his mind, he separated the good from the bad. Not an easy task, to be sure. Some would evolve to a higher consciousness; others, devolve to the animals they apparently wished to emulate and eventually find release in extinction. It would take time, nothing happens overnight. He set the wheels in motion, then laid back on the soft, sweet-smelling grass in his favorite meadow, and waited.
Bob could afford to wait; he had all the time in the universe.