I had a dream. I saw the “wise” of the age crossing over the plains like a herd of wildebeests playing pipe tunes. I said to the young man at the rear, “Pray tell me child, where are you going?”
“I am following the wise, they play a fine melody to my ears.”
“And pray tell me, what is that melody?”
“God is dead, now we are free.”
“No, no, child, if they have killed God, there is no freedom. Just dark, empty oblivion where all things are permissible, and life is no more than a Sisyphean existence.”
“But take heart child, only the ““fool says in his heart, ‘There is no God.”” NIV