What if angels don’t give a damn about us? What if we’re trying to be good for a god for whom we are no better than ants? What if we’re condemned to our fate by our imperfect nature? What if this is god’s greatest irony, a creation followed by casting off, like an artist doing crap paintings to get through a crap day? Am I god? If so, can I destroy all creation? Nothing to see here, move along.