If you’re an evolutionist, you might as well be dead. No, seriously, hear me out. You’ve got no existential crisis to worry about, right? No moral dilemmas, no pesky conscience whispering sweet nothings about right and wrong. It’s all just survival of the fittest for you—eat, reproduce, repeat, until you drop dead and fertilize the next cycle of “progress.” Forget God; your deity is a double helix, and your only gospel is the number of offspring you can churn out before your expiration date. It’s not nihilism—it’s just… efficiency.