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Taking it to the next level
I wrote a couple of days ago about the dizzying array of Oysterian personas, and then yesterday he added another one to the repertoire. It's kind of my fault...
On our way to meet friends at the zoo:
Oyster (out of the blue): You know, I'm actually the workshopper who made the world.
Mama: You made the world?
Oyster: Yes, I made everything.
Mama: Really?
Mama: *drives a little further; is cruelly exhausted; starts babbling to make conversation*
Mama: You know, there are lots of stories about workshopper gods. There's an Irish one called Goibniu, I think, and a Roman one called Vulcan, and I'm pretty sure there's one in the Scandinavian tradition as well.
Oyster: Yes, I'm a god!
Mama: You're a workshopper god?
Oyster: No, I'm just ... god. Like, the Christian sort of god.
Mama: Oh. You're the Christian god? Cool. I think you're usually called Yahweh or Jehovah.
Oyster: *keeps up stream of talk about how he made everything in the werreld*
Oyster: You know what the most difficult thing for me to make was? The tiger.
Mama: Because it's so fierce?
Oyster: Yeah. I had to secretly tie its jaws shut while I was making it so that it wouldn't bite me.
[We arrive in the Phoenix Park and start making our way to the zoo.]
Oyster: *holds up a fist wherein is tightly clutched a piece of white cotton yarn*
Oyster: This is the key to everything!
Mama: Really?
Oyster: Yeah. It's a key that can open any door or any other thing! So if we accidentally get locked in the zoo when it's shutting, we'll be able to get out.
Mama: Handy.
Oyster: Wait, I have to open this tree. [sound effects] Some aliens were living in it and they wanted to go home.
Mama: That was kind of you to arrange it.
Oyster: The woman who made me helped me make the world too.
Mama: Oh, there was a woman who made you?
Oyster: Yeah - she made me, and then she married me. She's my wife, and we made the world together.
Mama: Cool.
Oyster: We're from England, I think. But she's in Africa at the moment.
[We arrive at the zoo and find our friends, who are intrigued to meet the Christian god.]
Oyster: *runs through various permutations of the game, opening up our legs and tummies with the key to everything, remarking on his creations, etc.*
Friend M (just 4): *contradicts*
Oyster (indignant): Mama, M isn't believing me.
Mama: No, it doesn't look like it.
Oyster: But! I made him! He has to believe me!
Mama: Well, not really. Even if you made him, he still has a mind.
Oyster: But I made his mind too!
M's dad: That's the thing about making creatures with minds, though. They go off and think for themselves.
M's parents and Mama: *try not to laugh*
Oyster: Well, I have a controller that I can use to make him do what I want. I left it at home, is the only problem.
Mama: Ah. That's a problem, all right.
Those are all the specifics I can remember. He kept the game up to varying degrees all afternoon (oh, wait, including explaining to me (when it rained) that he doesn't do weather and couldn't talk to the weather god because he was up in the sky and we didn't have an aeroplane).
Processing his lack of omnipotence, would you say?
On our way to meet friends at the zoo:
Oyster (out of the blue): You know, I'm actually the workshopper who made the world.
Mama: You made the world?
Oyster: Yes, I made everything.
Mama: Really?
Mama: *drives a little further; is cruelly exhausted; starts babbling to make conversation*
Mama: You know, there are lots of stories about workshopper gods. There's an Irish one called Goibniu, I think, and a Roman one called Vulcan, and I'm pretty sure there's one in the Scandinavian tradition as well.
Oyster: Yes, I'm a god!
Mama: You're a workshopper god?
Oyster: No, I'm just ... god. Like, the Christian sort of god.
Mama: Oh. You're the Christian god? Cool. I think you're usually called Yahweh or Jehovah.
Oyster: *keeps up stream of talk about how he made everything in the werreld*
Oyster: You know what the most difficult thing for me to make was? The tiger.
Mama: Because it's so fierce?
Oyster: Yeah. I had to secretly tie its jaws shut while I was making it so that it wouldn't bite me.
[We arrive in the Phoenix Park and start making our way to the zoo.]
Oyster: *holds up a fist wherein is tightly clutched a piece of white cotton yarn*
Oyster: This is the key to everything!
Mama: Really?
Oyster: Yeah. It's a key that can open any door or any other thing! So if we accidentally get locked in the zoo when it's shutting, we'll be able to get out.
Mama: Handy.
Oyster: Wait, I have to open this tree. [sound effects] Some aliens were living in it and they wanted to go home.
Mama: That was kind of you to arrange it.
Oyster: The woman who made me helped me make the world too.
Mama: Oh, there was a woman who made you?
Oyster: Yeah - she made me, and then she married me. She's my wife, and we made the world together.
Mama: Cool.
Oyster: We're from England, I think. But she's in Africa at the moment.
[We arrive at the zoo and find our friends, who are intrigued to meet the Christian god.]
Oyster: *runs through various permutations of the game, opening up our legs and tummies with the key to everything, remarking on his creations, etc.*
Friend M (just 4): *contradicts*
Oyster (indignant): Mama, M isn't believing me.
Mama: No, it doesn't look like it.
Oyster: But! I made him! He has to believe me!
Mama: Well, not really. Even if you made him, he still has a mind.
Oyster: But I made his mind too!
M's dad: That's the thing about making creatures with minds, though. They go off and think for themselves.
M's parents and Mama: *try not to laugh*
Oyster: Well, I have a controller that I can use to make him do what I want. I left it at home, is the only problem.
Mama: Ah. That's a problem, all right.
Those are all the specifics I can remember. He kept the game up to varying degrees all afternoon (oh, wait, including explaining to me (when it rained) that he doesn't do weather and couldn't talk to the weather god because he was up in the sky and we didn't have an aeroplane).
Processing his lack of omnipotence, would you say?