I used to dread being asked whether I believed in God. Either answer aligns you with an entirely new set of certainties. Say yes and you’re certain of a myth, you say “God bless you” and mean it quite literally, you commit to a wild insanity of faith. Say no and you’re an atheist: confident, assured, and certain of the scientific method and all of its own twisted ideas—string theory, infinite universes, emergent consciousness, equally strange, equally alien, each requiring its own version of that insane faith. I know now it’s certainty itself I have a problem with. Certainty doesn’t feel like
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