According to legend, a certain deity somewhere has the following history:

• In the beginning, he created angels. Soon afterwards, a third of the angel population enacted a coup against him, and he had to hastily send them far away from his kingdom.

• The deity created two human beings. They too soon rebelled against his commands, and once again, he had to hastily send them away from his garden.

• The population on earth grew. But everyone there was going against his commands. So he drowned the entire world, save for one family.

• The old man in the family saved from the floods made alcohol as soon as the floods ended, drunk himself silly, and danced around naked. The deity had specifically chosen this old man as the future hope of mankind.

• Sometime later, the deity looked down upon Sodom and Gomorrah, didn’t like what he saw, and he rained fire and brimstone on everyone there. Except for one family, which the deity thought was righteous. In the next two days, the old man in that surviving family had drunken sex with his own two daughters, impregnating them.

• The deity’s favourite people got enslaved in Egypt, and he sent someone to rescue them. As soon as those people were safe away from the Egyptian slave masters, they promptly melted down their jewellery, crafted a golden calf, and worshipped it. They completely forgot the deity who had saved them.

• Many thousands of years later, the deity decided to send his own son down to the people, to teach them how to be good again. And the people pounced on the son, stripped him naked, whipped him senseless, then nailed him on to a tree, in front of his earthily mother.

At what point should a deity admit that he probably is just hopelessly bad at creating things, or making things obey him?