"Today is such a nice day.”

“Yes, it is. There is sun and everyone looks happy, so whatever it is!”

“Have you read the news? Internet?"

“No, I am not working today. What is it about?"

“There is like a big wolf around here; I’m not sure if it is an online joke."

“Really? That sounds scary; I wonder what it is about."

“There must be an explanation. Whether it’s good or bad news, it can’t really be that bad. Perhaps it’s one of those oopsies one can’t reckon on."

“Like calculating a date? My father used to say that before the walls, you couldn’t even say if it might rain! Can you believe it?"

“Oh right. That is a well-known legend. My mother used to say the same. We know exactly when it rains. Artificially generated rain is addictive, like any useful thing. Trains always run in time!"

“I am not a fan of those machines. In fact, I don’t like tunnels. I suffer from claustrophobia."

“You are living in one of those claustrophobic tunnels here! Aren’t those walls around us a tunnel?"

“It’s not! Don’t come up with the allegory of the cave or whatever you’re thinking about. We live in paradise, period."

“So, what makes paradise? The feeling that we can control a messy chaotic life? You can’t even stop drinking by yourself, but you’re okay with living in a cave? Because it’s controlled?"

“Shut up! You barely know what you’re talking about."

“Ha ha. I know one or two things about what this place is."

“You say a lot of things that their only purpose is to fret. And we don’t like that. We are humans after all, and happiness is blind."

“Like Pinocchio? You’re guiltless as long as you’re unaware of it. Well, Pinocchio had a tree for his nose. Lies are still lies, even if you are unaware of them. Like we have a conscious."

“Better said, a police officer in our minds. I can say for sure that no one will make it to Heaven. And some of us had killed this police officer after many accidents that had made us reflect on the fact that this police officer goes against our earthly pleasures."

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“A murder!"

“Whatever. We don’t have a soul, so it’s alright. We've got Heaven here on earth."

“That doesn’t sound appropriate for a man who preaches the word of the Lord..."

“A technological Lord loves us. He is fine with these silly comments a priest makes about this Heaven we live in."

“You got rid of our humanity! Heaven, do we live in it? Oh goodness. What a Heaven this is where priests are amoral."

“And rich; don’t forget filthy riches."

“I was designed to act as a conscious. To make sardonic remarks. And basically, to make fun of you all."

“I know that already, okay? We humans don’t have a consciousness that punishes us. God had abandoned us. And we had to make it again by designing these dolls that talk. But it really was necessary to make fun of us, right? Like clowns. Yes, clowns. That’s all we are. Clowns."

“Could you recall to me what you are supposed to worship? Are you a priest? You sound like an atheist. And those that would like to believe but are so full of themselves that they can only believe in what their eyes see."

“Had you ever heard of those men who believed in fatality? Yes, there is a thing called cause and effect in science. Well, God works like that. He had already commanded it, and we can’t do anything to change it. Fate is impassable. So, no, I’m not an atheist. I worship Him, the creator, even though I am fine with whatever He wishes for us. I am not complaining; perhaps when I am full of myself, I can’t bear His burdens on my flesh."

“Something is ringing; it’s your reminder that today you must pray along with the scientists. They believe in the nonsense you also believe, right?"

“Science and religion are the same thing, so yes. We all believe in fatalism. Or cause-effect. The wisdom of God that we only felt."

“And that story about the painter? What if we only see the canvas that God left but not the creator? That cannot be fatalism..."

“Well, in that case, if we can only appreciate the creator’s work of art, well, I cannot say what I think about it because it is beyond my scope. Next question."

“Surely, He is there, perhaps outside the work of art. Watching his creations dance in this imperfect world that only humans regard as imperfect, and He is having fun talking with an elephant about how this small piece of consciousness, you, is grappling with concepts that are fundamentally diffuse."

“And morality? Well, if He is there just watching and having fun with the freaking elephant, we’re performing a play for His delight? What about our suffering?"

“Well, the elephant surely died at some point; he could’ve not reached God by himself but was invited by Him, the Lord. So, well, there you have it. There is a Heaven. You only need to be invited by the Lord. Ha ha. And you humans named this weird jail ‘Heaven.'"

“Well, whatever. I won’t be invited anyway to Heaven. Perhaps those beasts outside will be. But we, the expelled, are condemned to wander these lands, performing like clowns for eternity."

“Oh, my Gott. I don’t like pessimism. I am a human like our God made us without flesh and bones, but I am not a machine but rather a conscious that talks with them through an interface that is connected to their brains. And you, priest, must see yourself as an interface that talks with other entities. Rather than an object. I don’t have hands and can still talk with you all. Forget your body. And embrace the illusory identity of your consciousness. For it can be whatever you want it to be. God is hidden between these layers of the mind that you can’t distil. Silly priest."

“I am done. I don’t want to talk about God or nature. What happened to the wolf?"

“Well, the guys in green are looking for him. It looks like a beast is making some noise in our peaceful Heaven."