No, it is clear, given the rampant scathing skepticism around here, that not everyone buys into Rapparree's assertion that it was he who Authored Us All. Just look, for example, and the long chain of scathing condescension, criticism, and derogation some of us have levied on his weary person in our fathomless ingratitude. One is forced to wonder, once the first avalanche of guilt and self-abnegation clears away, why a Cosmic Author suh as Himself would author such a furbelow as a carping critic from California, a gaunt and gumptionless granola gummer with the sand of a seaturtle's spineless spittle? Why would He, the all and powerful One, generate such fractious feeble-minded febrile frivolity in his Flawless Space, and have such minor minions behave in such jackanapes manner, tossing sarcasm, scurrilous and scrofulous condemnation and barbarian barbs at his very Raiment of Perfection?

And yet it cannot be question that such is the case.

One can only conclude that He, the One, the All-Powerful, the Author of Us All, is himself tormented by a self-esteem worn a bit ragged along its very seams with self-doubt, a worrisome deep streak of abnegation of self-worth, a smidgen of Self Shaming Sneers and Snarkery riddling the gigantic hollows of his vast Mentallity, like a flock of vipers nested in the basement underpinnings of a giant Temple.

In my temporary and capriciously disingenuous pose as an independent voice, I invite your thoughts on this most profound and cosmic paradox, to know if anyone sees how it might, itself, be paradoctored.

A, humble and humiliated mock-up of the Mighty Rapparee