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Even on that longest, most important day at my cottage, a year or so before, when I finally got to ask God a single hard-won question, even that day there were almost no new topics. I did finally slog through my torpor to a question though, just seconds before Dan reentered from the last and culminating trance of the day. I didn’t like my question. I wasn’t satisfied at all that it matched the opportunity. But I was desperate and it just popped out. Its answer was the end of my quest. I would continue to read and argue and search, but more from habit and curiosity than burning need. That answer was the real beginning of my nihilism. “Can what you learned from your experience,” I asked him, “all this special knowledge, can it help us, does it have any practical value, does it do any good to know it?… Can it stop the pain?” “No.”
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