text: The world is an absurd, anomalous, nonsensical place. The only part of the universe for billions of miles apparently capable of consciousness, and it’s all concentrated on this little wet rock that through the sheer statistical necessity of an infinite universe, happens to have all the goods needed for carbon-based life as we know it. Yes, Humanity, in all its glory, is the only part of the universe capable of observing itself, and we have only been here for a mere fraction of a fraction of a percent of the entire age of the universe. For all we know, it could end tomorrow. All it would take would be one orange-haired, argumentative, uneducated world-leader to decide that nuclear is the only option and then mutually assured destruction would wipe us out of existence just as quickly as we crawled out of our primordial goo. But enough doom and gloom, let’s introduce the protagonist of this story, Ernest John Griggs. Ernie was a simple American man, your “Average Joe” of sorts. He was born in a suburban Midwest town, raised in the church (though that certainly didn’t stick,) and was educated in the public school system. He was an ignorant teenage boy throughout high school, and was lucky enough to attend college, where he was able to gain a bit of self awareness and learn a few things about that wet rock he was living on with the rest of humanity. College was also where he discovered his love for Science, and where he discovered he was not nearly as intelligent as his ignorant high-school self had believed. You see, anyone who choses to master the sciences eventually comes to realize the impossibility of this task; as we humans simply are not evolved for it. That, or they go on to study theology, where they can truly have all the answers they seek, without the need for that pesky critical thinking. Anyways, to put things plainly: Ernest was a man of science, not of faith. It was this very fact that plagued him throughout his adult life. For when you are a person of science, you must rely only on what you can empirically observe before you can draw any conclusions, and one such thing that has yet to be observed is any sort of afterlife. And without any data (aside from anecdotes) to support the hypothesis of an afterlife, one naturally concludes the worst, that their very existence will come to an end one day. They will not see what great things humanity will go on to achieve (like mutually assured destruction,) and their entire existence will one day be forgotten, as though they never existed. This logic is what caused dear Ernie most of his stress in life, and ultimately what led to his demise. Now Ernest had always taken comfort in the idea that while there was no evidence of an afterlife, that did not necessarily mean it was impossible. At least that was what he told himself. Unfortunately, that comfort was fleeting, as his existential terror always seemed to win out, and it wore on him like Colorado River wore out the Grand Canyon. It caused him so much stress in fact, that despite his healthy diet and active lifestyle, at the age of 23, he had a fatal heart attack. It was cruel luck really, he had always prided himself on his health, an avid runner and plant-based eater, he hoped it would secure him at least a few more years than his fellow average American. Alas, he could not fight the overwhelming stress of his existential dread, and as he returned home from an uneventful 5 mile run, he was suddenly overcome with that seizing, tightness in his chest that was so characteristic of a stress-induced myocardial infarction. In his last moments before he lost consciousness, Ernest momentarily realized the situation he was in, and that he would soon be dead. As he collapsed to the floor in his entryway, front door still ajar, he muttered his last thoughts aloud, “Oh fuck.” For Ernie, everything went dark.