Maybe that’s what my brain does to occupy the excess processing time? In high school, when I still remembered it, I used to recite the litany against fear. But that’s not quite it. When waves toss my little boat around and I ask myself why I’m praying—the answer invariably comes out, ``It’s never made things worse. So the Professor God isn’t punishing me for my weakness. Who knows… maybe it will work? Even if not, prayer beats panic as a system idle process.″
I am firmly atheist right now, lounging in my mom’s warm living room in a comfy armchair, tipity-typing on my keyboard. But when I go out to sea, alone, and the weather turns, a storm picks up, and I’m caught out after dark, and thanks to a rusty socket only one bow light works… well, then, I pray to every god I know starting with Poseidon, and sell my soul to the devil while at it.
I’m not sure why I do it.
Maybe that’s what my brain does to occupy the excess processing time? In high school, when I still remembered it, I used to recite the litany against fear. But that’s not quite it. When waves toss my little boat around and I ask myself why I’m praying—the answer invariably comes out, ``It’s never made things worse. So the Professor God isn’t punishing me for my weakness. Who knows… maybe it will work? Even if not, prayer beats panic as a system idle process.″