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.