Though the fear grips my throat and causes my hands to quiver, I feel I must somehow deliver this terrible message. Let me describe the nightmare.

I stayed up late last night, reading about evolution. I had to read the words of fundamentalist evolutionists nightly in order to make the leap of faith and believe the outlandish theory. I laughed and smiled with wicked glee at the thought of my grandparents being monkeys, embracing the clear contradiction this poses in virtue of the fact that there are still monkeys… I prayed to Darwin and took selfish pleasure knowing believing that there is no morality, and so no wrong in blaspheming God’s Name. Like all evolutionist atheists, I secretly knew God to exist, but due to my hatred of God I made the faith-based wishful thinking leap of denying His existence. Having completed my nightly religious ritual (evolution is a religion!!!), I crawled into bed. Like all atheists, I counted 666 sheep and then drifted off to sleep.

The hunger. In my dream I hungered for the food of Truth. All my atheist friends were there. I was a starving man, and they would not give me a bite to eat. They laughed at me as I begged for food, but then I realized they too were gaunt with starvation, their sunken eyes and pallid faces betraying their malnourishment. Remember, food is a metaphor for Truth. I turned away from the sick gathering of atheists, pathetically unaware of their own hunger. Like coked up zombie runway models, they twitched and shuffled, their eyes offering only a blank stare, their souls having fled the body.

I turned and ran, but everywhere the atheists blocked my way. They pawed at me with cold hands. I crumbled under their weight. They collapsed on me and whispered falsehoods, “there is no god,” “the earth is billions of years old,” “we share a common ancestor with shrimp,” “pi is an irrational number, not 3,” “no dinosaur ever wore a saddle.” On and on they piled, and I was weak with hunger, unable to overpower them, unable to refute their bald assertions.

Defeated, I succumbed. “Yes. Dinosaurs were unsaddled beasts,” I said. The atheists fell back, satisfied that I was firmly among their ranks. I stood and wandered off. There was a great desert before me, and I began to walk on the hot sand. My hunger grew, and in the distance I could just make out an oasis. Driven by my hunger, I walked on, but I was doubtful, skeptical. I began to mumble the phrases I’d heard the atheists say. I spoke at first like a parrot, simply mechanically repeated what I’d been told. With repetition I began to inexplicably believe. But onward still I walked, toward what was surely a mirage.

My head hung low, I lost sight of the sanctuary. I was a zombie runway model, strutting with the false confidence of arrogance and faith-based atheism. I forgot my hunger. Then I set foot on cool grass. I looked up and gazed with sunken eyes. There stood my nightmare. A tree, not of life, nor of knowledge, but of nightmares. In bunches they hung, then upon me they fell. I saw through the tumult a familiar face, a Christian, shaking the tree. Freed from their branches the bunches collapsed on me, and I was surrounded by betabbed yellow monsters. Their far sides did have three ridges. On the close side there were two. In desperation I put up my hands in defense. I grabbed at the monsters. What fortune! They fit perfectly in my hand, as if one were made for the other. I had no trouble grasping them, their surface discouraging slippage. I looked closely, and something about their outer appearance indicated to me that inside there was food, nourishment, Truth. I pulled the tabs and peeled, expecting to be squirted in the face by the contents. Hark, it did squirt me not. The Truth of fruit was shaped perfectly for my mouth, and it was a veritable orgy of nourishment as I devoured the food. It was so easy, the monsters were lining up and curving their thrusting points toward my face. I was terrified. How could I, an atheist, account for this clear display of design? I panicked and began to gag. “Too much truth!” I shouted, refusing to accept it. But still the bananas rushed in, the tree still shaking from the Christian’s might.

I awoke in a sweat, and with great hunger. I ran to my fridge. They lept at me.

The Nightmare was Real!!!

This post originally appeared on The Official MU SASHA Blog. If you don’t understand this post, click here.

Find us on Facebook, learn more about Center for Inquiry On Campus, or see what resources are available to students.