In the first place it is a practical problem: you live for a while, and then you die. I used to lie in bed thinking about how long a person has to be dead for. And it’s not like you’re waiting for something to happen. You’re just dead. Time goes by, and more time, and more time, and you’re still dead.
Sometimes I would think about God, and whether you got to meet him when you died, and maybe also your great-grandmother and George Washington. Or whether you would at least find out that there was no God — which would be interesting to know even if you wouldn’t be able to use the information since you’d be dead. (Of course, if you’re really dead, and if there’s no God, you wouldn’t exactly know that — but you’d sort of embody it. So that seemed like something.)
But — and this only occurred to me much later — none of this is true.
Next: more problems.