They say God appeared in history and used it for his purposes, but if that was so he had no pity for men.

The time has come, the Walrus said. Perhaps things will become worse and then better. Perhaps there's a small god up in heaven readying herself for us. Another world is not only possible, she's on her way. Maybe many of us won't be here to greet her, but on a quiet day, if I listen very carefully, I can hear her breathing.

There were the phone calls and Elvis had asked me to visit him in Los Angeles. This was in 1962.

I mean, who wants to be the fucking goddess of macrame?

Written By Neal Stephenson

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