Little Fingers! Read Online Free

worst, so many injustices, so
many cruelties, so much stupidity.
    In the end you
give up caring. You are employed for a special responsibility that
you undertook because these things really mattered to you, and you
become gradually overwhelmed by it.
    You have done
better than us, me anyway. You have cared in the first place. You
answered to your vocation. Sorry, Inspector, you have lost. I can
see it in your eyes as we talk, in your whole demeanour. You are no
longer trying to save the world. You are trying to solve a case for
pride and professionalism's sake.
    With my now
heightened understanding of the world, born of privileged glimpses,
I am in danger of becoming lost too. That is perhaps what we
recognise in each other. We are the damned as we sit at our table
talking.
    I did not
volunteer for this. I did not approach any humanitarian employer
with a bleeding heart anxious to shed my blood. I had insight
thrust upon me virtue of one God Almighty bang to the head, and who
is to say that it was not He who arranged it. I must have been a
prime target, the way I was living my life at the time. Maybe he
decided to make me privy to what was really happening in the world,
to see where I would jump. Would I turn my head away, or would I
address the real world?
    I cannot turn
my head away. Turning my head away does not tune down the voices,
the fears, the joys, the passions, the anger, the affliction.
Turning my head away does not allow me to escape for one second
what I admit I should have been paying more attention to many years
ago. If I had paid attention then, perhaps I would not be deafened
now. Deafened without the hope of becoming deaf. All man's
suffering is landing on my plate as a main course, with
Death-by-Chocolate scratched form the menu.
    I did not
choose this. Probably it was not chosen for me either. I survived,
and this is my price, not for survival, but for surviving. It is
the package I picked up on the way, and will never put
down.
    It is all
humanity screaming for something, and against something
else.
    Imagine you
were surrounded by a billion cabbies demanding justice and their
fare. That is where I stand, God love me. And he probably does, not
least for giving him the night off.
     
    * *
*
     
    Every time I
think of God I think of a man (because I am a traditionalist) who
made the world by mistake.
    I have no
specific “in” on this, so your guess is as good as mine, but that
is what I imagine.
    God is a man
who was absentmindedly rubbing some quarks together, and two quarks
made a quawk. He examined it a bit, and He started rubbing the
quawk, and it made a super-quawk. With a lot more rubbing He gained
an atom, and from an atom eventually He got a molecule, and from a
molecule a cell. Then everything was way out of His
hands.
    So I doubt
that He did it deliberately. I do not picture Him getting out His
pens and His papers, muttering “Let's get to the drawing board”,
and intentionally inventing life.
    Nearly all
great inventions come about by accident. True, the inventors often
had something in mind, but often not the same something as they
got.
    I am not at
all sure that God was after anything at all. He was just
fidgeting.
    Then this
thing grew bigger and bigger, like expanding foam except that it
was intelligent expanding foam. It learnt things, and it
adapted.
    God watched
all this in awe. It gradually dawned on Him that one day this
tumescent soup would be capable of rocket science and
cloning.
    He got very
excited. Well, you would be. Something He had created (His
fidgeting was now reframed as a deliberate act) was taking on a
life of its own. Think about it. Man has been desperate for
centuries to create a new life form, and God had achieved it in the
palm of His hand on an eternity morning while mulling over what to
do that day.
    Show any child
a patch of ground, and sprinkle seeds onto it. Take the child back
to the same spot a few weeks later, and there are seeds growing.
The child jumps up