by Richard Nathan
LINDEE is seated though the entire monologue.
You ask if not believing in God makes it harder
to die. Are you kidding me? I've had three kinds
of cancer, they took my spleen out, I had to
have my hip replaced, and the artificial hip didn't
set right because I couldn't move out of the hospital
bed. I fought it all, and got better, found a good
man - or the base materials for a good man, which I
took the trouble to build into a good man, and then
the cancer comes back. If your God could treat me
like this while I'm alive, why should I think he'd treat
me any after I'm dead? You want me to be like
one of those women with an abusive husband
who thinks, maybe if I give him one more chance,
he won't beat me this time. Except you want me
to think, maybe after God kills me, he'll start being
nicer. Do I look that stupid? Yeah, they took a
tumor out of my brain, but the tumor wasn't the
part I think with. So no, not believing in God
doesn't make me afraid to die. If I did believe,
I'd have more reason to be scared. Hey, God,
how many more kinds of cancer you got
waiting for me on the other side? No, I don't
hate God. You can't hate what doesn't exist.
But I'll tell you who I do hate. Anyone who
tells you they will give you messages from the
dead, if you pay them money. You think the
dead would talk through people who are charging
hundreds of dollars from the people they loved
most in the world? Yeah, I'm going to help some
jerk steal a fortune from that boyfriend I spent
so much time on. I do not believe in life after
death. I do not. But when I die, if I could send
a message to a "psychic," I know just what
it would be. "Hey asshole, you try charging my
loved one one cent for the privilege of hearing
from me, and I and everyone else on this side
is going to spend the rest of your life shouting
in your ear what a worthless piece of shit you
are." That would almost make it worth dying.
Almost. Almost. Almost.
© 2005 by Richard Nathan. All rights reserved
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