When we were younger my sister and I quite enjoyed horsing around in our back yard, with a bunch of friends from up and down the road. We would tie our blonde hair into a ponytail and put a loop of twine in our mouth. A chimeric equipage, horse and rider both, we were still kids about to learn the facts of life. It was around that same time my dad, the doctor, pulled me aside to inform me that although he considered himself a cultural Christian he did not believe in an afterlife and had no faith in an interventionist God.