Gourd knows the effort seeped from the need to participate in The Eat. Gourd knows you want to live as in an egg carton of certain compartments and Gourd regrets that absolutes can not be so. Gourd encourages you to reach for the ideal with all of your strength.
In the beginning, there was silence, mostly. Somewhere, in an inexplicably obscured state of existence, there was a place we call The Ethic Expanse, and it was a bit noisy. (We're pretty sure it's still around.) For the purpose of storytelling, though, let's just say it was very very quiet. Within the confines of our perceptive boundary (which isn't at all unimpressive, mind you) there was absolutely nothing.
There was only The Expanse, and in it, only Gourd - a lonely, pseudoomnipotent God, and His terrifyingly tacky furniture. You may think me a bit ridiculous in my analysis of the cultural worth of aesthetics before culture existed, but this furniture was (and is) celestially tacky - beyond the ability to please any sense (no matter how unfathomably perceptive or imperceptive) belonging to any being.
Gourd, in His being the first being, was a bit finicky. He tended to "really get in a mood" from time to time, but was generally pretty emotionally healthy (in the widely-accepted human sense,) all things considered. Though both He and His Expanse were of immeasurable size, He often felt stifled and crowded by His divine furniture. For eternity, he'd been forced to look at it, and had inevitably formed an infinite pool of aesthetic opinion on its ungainliness.
Despite His boundlessness, Gourd eventually (or "eventually's" metaphysically infinite equivalent) found Himself unable to contain His opining any longer. For a place to relieve Himself, He created the first feminine being and the first wife - Hot Ball.
In the beginning of their marriage, Hot Ball was simply glad to exist, and elated at pioneering the idea of companionship with Gourd. However, she came to realize that His stream of sulking subjective communication regarding His objectively awful furniture was (in all likelihood,) infinite, and that she - a great, sexy sphere of gases and thermonuclear fusion - was not.
To Gourd's surprise, Hot Ball began forming her own opinions on the furniture.