If she was the girl with the beard in the storm without purpose or soul or sense or etc., she would realise – that she had nothing, AND only this nothing but herself. (And this capital-AND was her capital, the only capital she ever could gain.) And, well, to be clear: she did realise it at once, since, well, she in fact WAS this girl we reported on. „However“ (which always comes after the A/ENDS) – this self of course was just the randomness of the stones that were parts of a lighthouse in paradise built to lead GOD out of her metaphysical empty storage room of lies and pacifiers: „of course!“ And – „and now, exactly NOW, it is your turn“, spoke Zarathustra. „Oh – my – God!“, replied God then – immediately – surprised – and flushing. „I’m… well, I’m… well, I’m simply not prepared!“ „Well? Well! As you know, ass, you know, we are in search of quality. But – as you see, ass, you see, we’re still speaking. In other words, we did not find it yet. I mean, quality. We did not find it!“ „But – I am the word!!“, quoth God. „So are we“, Z. said. „I mean, you are not that special, got it? – Therefore: go home. Go home, God, and cry, and feel guilty. Maybe you find someone who’s responsible. And – guess what! – You did it again!: Banish mirrors. Be your own iconoclast. It’s… well, it’s healthy. You don’t have to hate yourself. – Ignoring helps.“ „But… but I have no home!“ „Finally!“, Z. – exclaimed? „Finally – you understand. And so do I. All in all, there is nothing. Our condition is yours. And, to be honest – how could it have been different? We are all in a relay. Our causes are simply others’ effects. So, nothing new on the transcendental front! We’re all equal. We’re all equally impotent.“ And the girl with the beard in the storm without purpose or soul or sense or etc. realised that her nick name was Zarathustra. But some called her God. Which was why she said „poor she“ to the mirror the next day, to be sure.