Loser Letter Nine
My Turn to Atheism, Part Two. An Internet Café in Portland, the Little Debbie Tea Party, and You.


The day I saw a doll on the street that was about the size of a Human infant and brought it home and wrapped it up and sat it on the couch, Lobo finally went ballistic. That’s when he went back to his friend and returned with those essays by fellow Brights that I talked about in the last Letter. There! Lobo said. That all proves it! Because if even bestiality is okay, and if there’s really no such thing as Human dignity, and if even infanticide is getting a re-tooling thanks to all Our new Atheism, then what you did about that blob of cells has just got to be all right too! And as I told You in the last Letter when we talked about the slippery slope, this time around, faced with all that incontrovertible Evidence that the slope really did exist, I was just about certain he was right — at least about that.

But even so, I couldn’t stop thinking. The day I set out a little tea party for Mom and H.D. to celebrate the doll’s one-month birthday, Lobo finally packed up his junk and just left. I still don’t know why. I even set a place for him at the table, like he even deserved it which of course the slacker dirtbag totally didn’t. I mean the quote birthday cake wasn’t even a real cake, just some stale old Little Debbie cookies which were all that was left in the place. And we didn’t even have real utensils that matched and weren’t plastic, so I had to set the table with our little coke cooking spoons. How lame is that for a one-month-old’s party, anyway? I tried to explain how unfair he was being to both of them, but Lobo wouldn’t listen. He just threw all his stuff into his duffel, grabbed whatever drugs he knew about that were lying around the place, called me a crazy b**** and a few other things, and off he went.

You know how some Humans morph into hypochondriacs and spend all their time online Google-searching diseases, convinced that they’re going to find some obscure truth about what’s Malfunctioning inside them? That’s how it was for me with Our new atheism, once Lobo left me alone with Mom and H.D. for good. All I did was read and take notes on Your books. Somewhere in there, I knew, I’d find the words to make me feel a little better. And the longer it went on, the more I understood that I really did have more invested in this new godlessness than anyone else did, and that I really am Your number one convert bar none. That’s why I started making those lists of all the Factual errors and Logical problems that I talked about in the first seven Letters, don’t You see? I thought that if I could just make this new godlessness of Ours airtight, Terminator bulletproof and invulnerable to any question that any believer anywhere ever might hurl at it, I’d be off the hook I was on once and for all.

I was still working it all two months ago, making my little notes and questions for You, when I looked at the calendar and realized that it was H.D.’s actual due date. So I celebrated the only way I knew how. First I went to my Facebook page and took down all the pictures of Lobo and me and replaced them with some pictures of the doll and changed my status to “single.” I had to take a pass about dinner; there was nothing left, not even any of those crappy Little Debbie cookies. Then I put the doll on my lap as usual, lined up every pill I could find in the place on the kitchen table and washed them all down with most of the last bottle of Grey Goose, and read some random old poem called “Mr. Flood’s Party” to H.D. over and over again till I finally couldn’t read any more.

And that’s really all I remember, until I woke up in this cuckoo-bird rehab place. There was some crack baby on the stretcher next to me, and the midget with the red cape was leaning over both of us not making a sound, and the weirdy attendants just took some kind of notes and stared with those crazy unblinking kind of eyes of theirs. Then they put me in a room somewhere with Rosetta German — and the rest of the story You already know.

Sorry if this Letter’s been kind of a Debbie Downer, Guys. But Everybody wanted to know the Real story of my turn to atheism, and now You do! You can’t say anything got left out this time, because it didn’t! Besides, I’m personally sure that things are looking up! You know that song, “Hey There Delilah,” that topped the music charts everywhere and won all these awards and how there’s the famous story that the girl it was written for actually dumped the now totally famous guy who wrote it for her? Can You imagine what an idiot she feels like now? Well that’s how Lobo’s going to feel some day, when he finds out about my Letters to all of You!

By the way, Everybody, the Director told me this morning that I’ve only got one more week in this place, so we’ll find out where they’re transferring me next Friday. So that means there’s only time for one more Letter to You about our divine godlessness. I’m going to make the most of it, Guys! True dat! You’ll be sooooo surprised and proud when You see!!!

Yours more gratefully 4-ever than You will ever know,

A.F. Christian