Both of my parents, as I grew up in the 80s, were not religious. I did go to Sunday school at the behest of my grandparents who were all quite religious, but I never believed in any of the beliefs they were peddling. I can completely understand the need to believe in something, as the alternative is existential dread. As I wind down my life, heading to a void, I don’t find that discomforting. I don’t find all of history before I was born discomforting, so why would I find all of history after I die discomforting?
English mother fucker, do you speak it?