A truth seeker crawls up out of a swamp of blatantly dogmatic bullshit onto a surface of slightly less dogmatic bullshit, searching for truth.  Is this surface a continent, or just an island?  He can't know until he explores it.  He builds a plow out of logic and common sense, and cuts thru whatever can be debunked.

He plows thru rotting corpses of respected bullshitologers who sold out, and their zombie children still singing their praises;  also simple quitters who just got tired and settled for faith in dogma.  He wonders if he should have remained one of them, but knows he can't, because he already tried his best, and failed.  Faith-zombies offer him shit, honestly thinking it's food.  He offers to help them build a plow.  They pelt him with turds.

He looks for a God, hoping for a grinning daddy, and finds only what looks like the ass end of a much bigger truth seeker behind a bigger plow, cutting thru God knows what.  Did he just say, "Follow me"?  Nah...  Is this Guy real or imaginary?  Who created whom in his own image?  No way to know.  The truth seeker could pretend to know.  But pretense either way makes him just another dogmatic faith-zombie, another bullshitter, another heretic religion seller, another part of the problem.

When his life is near spent, he still doesn't know if knowledge exists at all, or if truth, is anything more than bullshit compacted over time into apparent objectivity.  But still he continues plowing, because there may be an afterlife, and if so, a quitter will surely slide into another shit-swamp.