Post #4284909

@datarama@hachyderm.io in 1991 I decided to read my way through the Biology shelf at my local library. The first book I got my hand on was “det selviske gen” a DK translation of the book on the photo (I know the author has revealed him self as a prick, but that was not floating around in my information environment in ‘91). I was 18 years old, just moved into my first parent free apartment, and had never met genetics nor atheism before. The notion that “the existence of live” does not = “god exists” was devastating. I spent a fourth-night wrapping my brain around how I was going to deal with the possibly that no god had willed me into life. I had based my right to exist on the thought that “well I’m alive and that must be part of god’s plan even though nobody seems to want me here” (the last part was not true, but genuinely how I felt at 18). I ended up deciding that I’ed keep god around for the sole purpose of giving me a purpose, but would keep him out of anything science can answer.