Our esteemed colleague and beloved friend Don Ardell forwarded an interesting exercise he received from his friend, a fellow Robert G. Ingersoll enthusiast. The Great Agnostic was asked what he would do if he passed on and discovered there was indeed a God. The Christian god, of all the possibilities. Ugh.

Q: If you died and somehow found yourself face to face with Jeezus Haploid Christ Incorporated, what would you say to him?

I have to admit my instantaneous reaction was to imagine myself getting right up in his grill and saying FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING FUCK. And not just because I’m a New Yorker and that’s how I greet everybody. It’s probably no secret ’round here that I detest Christianity (though I do not detest all Christians) with the burning passion of ten thousand UY Scuties. Cursing Jeezus out would succinctly convey my feelings perfectly well. But upon further reflection, a more thoughtful (though no less enraged or revolted) reaction might go something like this.

All right, Jeezus. What do you have to say for yourself?

Wait, never mind. If in 2,000 years neither you nor your followers could make one single coherent case for your existence—to say nothing of your much-touted benevolence—I have zero interest in anything you have to say.

See, it is not lost on me that you have a long-running scam whereby you “save” people from yourself. It’s quite the racket: apparently you so despise your own handiwork (humans) that you would unleash upon us the most heinous punishments imaginable for doing exactly what you knew in advance with 100% certainty we would do. Then, when even that wasn’t enough to satisfy your insatiable bloodlust, you came up with the most sadistic punishment ever devised: squirrels. Wait, I mean hell. Hell. Our only alternative to that cruel fate is spending eternity with you, along with the ghostly remains of a lot of shitty people who, inexplicably, think you’re the bee’s knees.

What the fuck is wrong with you? No wonder we atheists took such great comfort in believing that death was merely oblivion. Christ.

And the ticket to gain entry into this perpetual shitshow? We have to actually believe that the sole creator of the entire universe sent his own son (who is also himself) to Earth to sacrifice himself to himself so that he could, finally, forgive humans for being exactly as disappointing to himself as he himself made them. WHAT.

None of this is worthy of respect, much less worship. It is the behavior of a spoiled toddler who throws a tantrum when he doesn’t get his way and then smashes all his own toys.

Now to be fair to you Jeezus, I despise humans too. I really, really do. But I don’t go around murdering and torturing them with wild abandon, insisting they obey my commands no matter how morally abhorrent, and demanding they never, ever eat shrimp. WTF, Jeezus?

Shrimp are fucking delicious.

Perhaps worst of all, your entire scam is based on a bald-faced lie: that you died for our sins. Putting aside the morally reprehensible principle of vicarious atonement, according your own autobiography, you, Jeezus, did not die. You did not die for my sins, or for anyone else’s sins either, because you did not die. By my reading, you had a really rough weekend (hey we’ve all been there amirite?), after which you rambled around for a while punking a bunch of people, and then flew up into the sky to become king (co-king? tri-king?) of the entire universe forever and ever. Whatever else that may be, it is the opposite of dying.

Oh, and one more thing (though I could go on all day…). You “immaculately conceived” forced a woman to birth yourself into quasi-mortal existence. Who even does that? I’ll tell you who does that: forced-birthers, rapists and enslavers of women, that’s who. Nice company you keep there.

I must insist that you immediately remand my non-corporeal remains to hell, where at least I will find myself in the excellent company of fellow infidels, heathens, freethinkers, anti-theists and other assorted non-Christians. An eternal existence there cannot possibly be worse than enduring one single day with you, your most despicable clergy and their insufferable followers.

Bye Felicia.