The theologian began with the assumption that humankind is created in God’s image, and proceeded to reverse-engineer God’s being from the psychological image of mankind.

He concluded that the Seventh Day was the most strenuous day of all for the great workaholic God. On the Seventh Day God constrained Himself from further creation and thus created stability.

The theologian dreaded the coming of the Eighth Day, the day that God would resume His ex nihilo creation with renewed enthusiasm.

He reflected on the last 5,700 years of reality in stasis, and humanity’s struggle to understand it. He tried to imagine humanity’s first Monday morning on the job, against the background of what had been from a cosmic perspective, an idle afternoon.

Humanity would wake to a new reality that would change faster than our collective capacity to learn. We would think, but the thoughts would not work, since they pertained to a nature superseded an hour ago (in part by the act of thinking). We would manipulate the world with increasing skill and shape it to our satisfaction, with growing dissatisfaction. We would explain the world with increasing precision, but the explanations would fail to explain the manifest inexplicability of the situation: that our helplessness grows with our expertise, as if the two were grafted together. Maybe they were never separate.

Like an infant we would stare out into a swirl of progressive chaos. New beings would appear out of nowhere, but, having no words for them, we would be unable to recognize them as real or distinguish them from fantasies or memories. Our knowledge would smash into these beings, break into conflicting opinions, and in churning debate, grind each other into powdery silt before disappearing under the foam. Our sense would make no sense. Gradually we would grow oblivious even to the possibility of making sense. Only a dumb awareness of an absence would remain, and that would disappear, too, negated by the self-evident fact of nothing missing.

God would press ahead, dividing, reunifying and articulating — all the while declaring His every act “Good!” in a language humanity will never learn.

The theologian feared that we would never emerge from our second infancy. In rude moods the theologian referred to Eighth Day humanity as the Great Idiot.