What makes us think there is no God? This morning I was afraid of death, not the act of dying but what happens after, what we can never tell. And I thought I might be judged on what I’ve done and what profound adventures I have come into. I, myself, have not done much of anything at all. Well in this afterlife God would surely smite me for it. A life wasted — unlived. I might beg, “But what about my thoughts? I’ve had so many of those and Goddamn, they all scared me but I never stopped thinking at all.” And God might say “Even worse — a waste of a good brain.”