Paradox Alley

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I don't know if God wears a beard. I've never had the pleasure of meeting Him. Frankly, I hope to delay that happy occasion for as long as possible.

The individual whose acquaintance I had just made didn't quite look the part, but I could have been persuaded otherwise right then. We had come a long way-all the way, it seemed, to the end of the universe. And here to greet us had been a surpassingly strange and beautiful creature possessed of a serenely transcendent, almost beatific aura. His foppish duds worked against the God image, though; I couldn't imagine the Supreme Being going around dressed like a Galactic Emperor out of some video space opera. And Carl, who stood beside me wearing a darkly subdued look, his fury temporarily spent, had seemed mighty sure of the identity of the person whose lights he had just punched out. I was fairly sure that Carl didn't think the guy was the King of Creation.

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