"When you're in a myth," the writer Franz Kafka once observed, "you believe it.   But if you step outside of it, you stop believing it."  So might say many people who do not believe in God about those who do.  As long as those who believe in God do not look past the curtain of their beliefs (think about Plato's allegory of the cave), these folks might suggest, the believers will continue in their, as the unbeliever would describe them, delusions.  But if these "deluded" believers could be convinced to step outside of their carefully circumscribed world, so the unbeliever might argue, perhaps they would see the folly of their beliefs and stop believing in the "myth" of God's existence.
     Perhaps.  But what if the myth is not a myth but reality?  And how would we, captives of our mortality, know it?
     Ironically, we will only know if we agree that there is something to be known.  And if the universe is a vast impersonal blast of dust and plasma--and we along with it--there is really nothing to know:  it's all an accident.
     And that's the biggest myth of all.