Atheist, agnostic, Christian, Jew, Muslim . . . Whatever. In this instance the term "whatever", I feel, is specific and appropriate. I'm an atheist, which for most means I don't "believe" in god(s). Then there are the agnostics who aren't sure either way. And, finally, we have the "believers". Doesn't matter what they believe in, just that they are set apart by those beliefs. The term "whatever" comes into play when we try to settle on just what it is we do, or do not, might, or might not, believe in.

In other words, what constitues a god?

Are there entities existing somewhere, or some when, in the unknowable vastness of this universe (or some other) which, if experienced by me, I would classify as a 'god'? Well, almost certainly so. In that instance I would have to place myself in the ranks of 'believer'. How could I not? Let's say I somehow drop back a mere 200,000 years but with full access to technology currently available, and approach a clan of h. sapiens as they scrabble about their day. How long before they begin to worship me? I think not long. Now imagine entities dropping back, for them, millions of years and paying us a little visit . . . An analogy I like goes something like this: I have a goldfish who lives in a bowl, which is situated on my kitchen counter. Every day I enter the kitchen, approach the bowl, and say, "hello Mr. Fish". The greeting is then followed by my placing a few flakes of food in the bowl. It doesn't take long before Mr. Fish begins to interact with me in this ritual. I approach the bowl, he swims to the side I'm on and stares (in his fishy way) at me, engaging/supplicating me in the only way he can; "believing" if he does food will be forthcoming. And,lo, he is correct. So, daily, Mr. Fish and I have, to varying degrees, social/intellectual intercourse. But do I care if he has been a 'good' fish that day? Do I reward him for having 'pure' thoughts? Nope. I feed him because I want to. The only sure way he can stop me from doing so is to die.

But what does my aquatic friend truly know about me? What does he understand of my life outside the kitchen? What does he 'believe' I was doing 10 minutes before my bowl-side appearance? Is his life not dependent on the whims and fortunes of my own; a life he cannot begin to comprehend?

His understanding of me, of my life, my power, and our relationship with one another, however, is more complete than my understanding of entities which mathematically almost surely exist in a universe(s) as unfathomable as that which we see around us. Are they, then, gods? Is god status based on power alone, on some omniscience as observed by a species who are, in some intances, still living as hunter/gatherers? Or is 'god' simply a word we humans use when we can't fathom the guy tapping on the glass?

If such is the case, I'm hoping he returns to the kitchen soon. Our bowl could use a good cleaning.