For some reason he’s thinking about death and an afterlife; gee, you think, considering the fact that the stench of death is only two steps away from the guy without a mask — the one declar- ing his faux libertarian, phony baloney bent on the First Amendment? Go right ahead and fly through that red light, don’t wear a seat belt and “A stop sign? What stop sign?” They take their orders well from what they see on TV. In the mean time, and isn’t that an apropos phrase — mean time? So, he’s thinking about death and white evan- gelicals would be thinking about all the white loved ones who had gone before and what a great reunion it will be just like those on the 4th of July at grandma’s farm. Yes, he’s thinking about that myth with a bit of yearning but, honestly, he would be glad to be a smooth, flat stone having been rolled over and over and over before washing up on the beach for some kid to find and get all excited about it being the best stone for skipping she had ever seen. And after she tossed it on a waveless day and got all excited about all the skips it made before sinking, he would roll and roll and roll and wait for some other kid to find the perfect stone for skipping.