From time to time, I experience a crushing sorrow when reflecting on my own mortality and its implications. In these moments that I am the most emotionally hostile to religion because I am so acutely aware of how little time I have to BE. In the context of our brief existence as “ugly bags of mostly water”, life and its ultimately futile attempts to have some universal consequence before its inevitable return to oblivion seems a tragic and cruel trick to give to a temporary pattern of matter.