Pointless Man

I am an atheist.  I make comics and write a blog, both entitled 'Pointless Man'.  From these bare facts, one may arrive at two questions: 1) Do I believe life is meaningless? 2) In order to remain consistent and coherent in my thinking, should I believe life is meaningless? and a corollary: 3) If I take life to be meaningless, should I (or be considered) a nihilist? The short and overly simplified answer to these queries is, "No." Religions tend to hold there must be some great arbiter (or set thereof) in order for there to be meaning.  Those who think so will naturally assume atheists either admit to no meaning at large or else have made a mistake somewhere along the line (aside from not adhering to some particular spiritual dogma), but it is not necessarily so.  After all, few will deny me the ability to comprehend what I have written so far or that I have a purpose in doing so.  Nor is it clear how a deity must be around for me to write this, understand

Robin , Chapter 8 Previous Chapter Few of Lance's fellows stayed on with Robin.  There was general agreement amongst the deserters that bear attacks, little girls, and fires were ill omens in a forest.  Those who remained were loyal, if not to their new leader then at least to their hunting grounds.  They were further united by their somewhat conflicting emotions of love for Robin's theatrical displays and fear of her long sword. Down from a high of thirty scoundrels, Sherman now held six thieves, Robin; the three Wills: Will Scathelocke, (a wrestler of some repute), Will Scarlet (Robin's wayward cousin, it turned out), and Will Stutely (a former derivatives trader who had decided he should be more honest with himself), none of whom would agree to go by 'William'; the one Bill, Bill Mayer, who guarded his singular given name with wit and a tongue as sharp as his knife; and John Jack Johnson, whip quick, just as thin, and the last person anyone would have expec