Quazy Quistian Question # 1

There’s just no nice way to say this. Even if there were, I probably wouldn’t use it, because, truthfully? I was born not only without the “god” gene, but also unencumbered by the “tact” gene.

Religion is dumb. That’s why it’s so much fun for us atheists to think up hard Questions for Christians. But I don’t understand why we spend so much time challenging believers about seemingly serious issues like, say, the Ontological Argument or the Euthyphro Dilemma. I’ve got a collection basket full of inane queries that need answering.

So I’m driving through town this morning, and an attractive woman in a red SUV whooshes past me in the right lane and cuts me off. I was already going a few miles per hour over the speed limit (well, in my book, twenty is “a few”). But this woman was clearly on some kind of mission.

Naturally, I leaned on the horn. I did this before I saw her two bumper stickers. On the left: Rejoice in the Lord. On the right: Honk if you’re not wearing any underwear.

Now, it so happened that I wasn’t wearing any underwear at the time. Sometimes, I’m just too lazy or too tired to dig through my highboy to find something to cover up my lowboys. But why my poor scrambled huevos should have been of any interest to a woman whose sunny side up was at least twenty-five years fresher than mine, was beyond me. Only her mysterious pal in the sky could know. When we were stopped at a red light on the next corner, she leaned her head and arm out the window, turned around to face me, and gave me what I at first thought was the finger. But it wasn’t. It was a thumbs-up.

I’d earned the approval of a beautiful Jesus-jumping stranger going commando just by sharing what she thought was a trivial confidence: Hey, I left my tighty-whities in my bottom drawer at home. And what aren’t you wearing, Sweetheart?

My angry impulse had resulted in a sweet, suggestive, smile — which I, of course, returned. And I wondered, “How embarrassed is she gonna be when the rapture comes and all of us forsaken sinners are left admiring her bare behind as it ascends to heaven?”

Anyway, seeing my response, she pointed toward the back of her car. I thought maybe I had a flat tire, or there was a dead animal in the road between us. I rolled down my window, leaned my head out, and shouted the most intelligent thing I could think of to say under the circumstances: “What? What?”

The woman turned almost completely around toward me, leaned over the back of her seat, placed her palms and fingertips together in the praying position, and looked up at the interior roof of her car. It’s impossible to know for sure what or who was up there, but a miracle happened. The light changed. I don’t know if that’s what she was praying for, but I saw it with my own eyes. When the impatient elderly couple in the Honda behind me let off a couple of feeble annoyed beeps, the woman must have thought the sounds were coming from me again.

As she raced away, the woman stuck another thumbs-up out the window. I half-hoped that she’d flash me at the next stoplight. But I did worry that she’d misinterpret my reponse to think I was trying to tell her “Christ is risen.” In any case, it never came up, because she was well out of sight within a minute.

This little story leads me to my very first series of inane queries: What do the pious think will happen to their clothing when they die? Do they imagine that they’re going to an eternal ectoplasmic nudist camp? Or do they anticipate an everlasting fancy-dress ball? Perhaps they think they’ll all be outfitted in identical choir robes without anything underneath. Sure, wise guys can dismiss this problem: Nobody is stupid enough to think that underwear’s gonna be an issue in the afterlife. But if religious people truly believe that each soul is unique, then any one of them, once dead, oughta be able to recognize others and distinguish between them.

OK, how? What exactly will those spirits be staring at?

I’ll tell you this: the attractive woman in the SUV will never trouble her pretty empty head about the Argument from Design. Where she’s going, design, at least of undergarments, won’t be a concern. There’s no way that she’s putting on a push-up bra any time during her vacation in infinity. The only question she’ll need to answer will be: Is it possible to honk when there are no cars around?

Quazy Quistian Question # 1:
Will souls need clothes in heaven? Explain your response.