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We were also competing with the rest of the human race. ‘There are many, many stupid people on this earth,’ my father said. ‘They are not born stupid, they are made so through their enslavement to material things, to the petty concerns of the world. The brain is one of God’s greatest gifts to us, and to abuse it is an act of gross ingratitude. Yet most people are stupefied by the world. I hope, Gideon, that you will not be one of them.’
‘That’s the trouble with funerals, isn’t it? One of the biggest days in your life and you can’t be there.’ ‘Not if you think like a poor benighted Scot. Think like a Mexican and you never know, you might make it.’ ‘You sound almost as though you’re admitting the possibility of something beyond the grave.’
Kite-flying is a double-edged experience, at once liberating and a reminder of your earthbound nature. The kite is a part of you and yet not a part of you, it is like having your soul on a long string tugging at you, attached to your body and yet with a life of its own. The temptation, of course, is to let go.
‘And does God feel the same?’ I asked. ‘Probably. I feel sorry for him actually. What’s in this for him? If things are going well, people forget about him. They unchain the swings, turn the churches into casinos and mock anybody who still believes in him. He’s a very easy target. And who does he get left with? Fanatics and maniacs of every faith and every persuasion, who want to kill the heretics and blow themselves to pieces in his name. I feel sorry for God, I do. I mean, what a thankless fucking job.
