Thanks. I'll be online soon. I just moved from Fla. To Pa.
Thanks for the info, Terence.
Funny. I went to Catholic school thru 8th grade. The nuns were good teachers. One fine day in choir practice, I realized I didn't /couldn't believe it. Both sides of my family are fervent, instinctive, untroubled Believers.
I found my stance in junior year HS, w/the help of a terrific English & French teacher.
Everybody feared Mrs. Rigsby but me. The sternly attractive Southern lady took a shine to me. Loaned me books. Assigned me college-level term papers. Introduced me to Camus.
I developed my own ontology. From which I've never wavered, even in the worst of VN and the worst to come.
I'm an Agnostic Existentialist, Camus-Kafka Division. The Absurd. Sisyphus. The Void. The Frightful Mystery.
I know nothing, believe nothing (except the US Founders and their bequests to us). Science keeps finding new horripilating mysteries. Yet I go on.
One night my company was deep in the jungle. Surrounded by an elite NVA Regiment. We were surely going to die.
We, mostly boys 18 to 22, solemnly shook hands and said Farewells to each other. Went to our emplacements to die.
Obviously didn't happen. My best guess is the NVA thought it was a ruse, a trap. Maybe it was, with us as bait.
Never thought about God or the afterlife, just Camus.
That's my little story. Best -- Rich
17 hours ago