One Of The Best (Really) Short Stories...

The Solipsist by Fredric March

Walter B. Jehovah, for whose name I make no apology since it really was his name, had been a solipsist all his life. A solipsist, in case you don't happen to know the word, is one who believes that he himself is the only thing that really exists, that other people and the universe in general exist only in his imagination, and that if he quit imagining them, they would cease to exist.

One day, Walter B. Jehovah became a practicing solipsist. Within a week, his wife had run away with another man, he'd lost his job as a shipping clerk and he had broken his leg chasing a black cat to keep it from crossing his path.

He decided, in a hospital, to end it all.

Looking out the window, staring up at the stars, he wished them out of existence, and they weren't there anymore. Then he wished all other people out of existence, and the hospital became strangely quiet, even for a hospital. Next the world, and he found himself suspended in a void. He got rid of his body quite easily and then took the final step of willing himself out of existence.

Nothing happened.

Strange, he thought, can there be a limit to solipsism?

"Yes," a voice said.

"Who are you??" Walter B. Jehovah asked.

"I am the one who created the universe which you have just willed out of existence. And now that you have taken my place"---there was a deep sigh---"I can finally cease my own existence, find oblivion, and let you take over."

"But---how can I cease to exist? That's what I'm trying to do, you know."

"Yes, I know," said the voice. "You must do it the same way I did. Create a universe. Wait until someone in it really believes what you believed and wills it out of existence. Then you can retire and let him take over. Good-bye now."

And the voice was gone. Walter B. Jehovah was alone in the void an there was only one thing he could do. He created the heaven and the earth.

It took him seven days.

Blessed Are The Playmakers

Figured I oughtta write this dream down before I forget it, as it has the makings for a good story/play. Perhaps, even, The Greatest Story Ever Told...

 About two millennia ago, a theatre producer/con man, inspired by a seminar, decides to start a religious cult for fun and profit, as is all the rage of the day. However, he’s aware of certain characteristics a cult leader should have for mesmerising potential followers, and that he doesn’t fit the bill himself. So he decides to hire a puppet a leader.

In order to find the perfect leader to play his Son of God role, he decides – what better way than to put on a play to discover a genuine actor for the part?

He sets out to do this and posts ads in the paper (“must speak fluent aramaic and be conversational in Hebrew” – is all i remember from the dream). Getting frustrated with all those auditioning for the role, he notices a hippy carpenter working on the set and his gut says that’s the guy. He gets him to audition and he’s a natural. The producer signs him up.

The play’s a flop, as there was no effort put into making it good, but he dupes the carpenter-actor into taking the show on the road, remaining in character all the time “to hone his acting skills”.

He never does put on another play, telling his actor nobody wants to put on the show as they move from town to town, with each street rehearsal of his soliloquy gaining more and more genuine followers as they go. The actor wants to know why so many are following them from town to town. Producer says they’re fans of the show and a cast of thousands for the stage extras.

I woke up before I know if the producer succeeds or if it gets too big and he loses control, or if the actor starts to believe he is his character, or something entirely different happens.

I just hope this isn’t the plot for Joseph and the Super Starred Jesus Coat or one of those shows I’m not really familiar with. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done that.