I'm a third-generation atheist, so I had no trouble with my family attempting to fill my head with fairytales. When I was seven, a kid about my age began to tell me about this fellow named "God" who lives in the sky and can see everything we do. I thought it was a remarkable story that he had invented, and I laughed appreciatively. But he didn't appreciate my laughter, which confused me terribly. When I got home that afternoon, I told my mother about the encounter. She got a very sad look in her eyes and asked me to sit down. She told me that most adults grow up believing in this particular fairytale. I was right on top of it, and said, "But you told me the truth about Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny. Didn't these grownups learn the truth from their parents, like I did?" At this point, her face became even sadder. She told me that most people grow up believing that God is real, and if I ever tried to explain to someone that God is not real, they might actually start beating me with sticks and bricks. Fortunately, I understood that part of the conversation, so I never tried to talk a religious person out of his religion--well at least until the late 1960s, when religion was out of favor. And by now I understand that you simply cannot get a religious person to understand logic and science. They're morons, so the best you can do is to treat them like morons.