Okay, so I love talking about atheism and religion, and clearly I seem to have a fixed agenda…what a horrible person I can be. I have a tendency to be inflammatory when I see things that, well, inflame me. The story of my dear Hypatia from the previous post is no exception. At any rate, I decided that the religious creed of Christianity does have one thing correct, and that is the need for a day off once a week. I had been studying with my head nearly literally inside books for so long, 23days or more even, that one day, suddenly, I felt something in my body, something that was not good. My heartbeat felt strange. Today I neglected all forms of anything related to schoolwork. I did nothing. I watched Jonah Hex which was fun. The main point I am making is that I have so much to do it’s sickening, yet to protect myself physically, I had to exert a marked effort to “not do” schoolwork, period. I am already starting to feel better, and in the process, I thought of all the other delectable items that religion has brought for me and my life. Stories of ghosts, paranormal activities, superstitions, seances, vampires, spirits, dragons, transcendentalism, werewolves, mummies, spells, exorcisms, etc., they all are bred from the realm of religious dogma. Hooray for that, though I’m sure once I start re-engaging the world of European history and having to be exposed to more stories of women, and people in general, suffering at the hands of religion, I will be inflamed again. Yet paradoxically, yes, I owe my love of writing ghosts stories to the presence of religion then, so really, what’s a guy to do? How do I make sense of being a ghost story writer?