The one and only defining feature of the existence of a thingamajig is unanimously whether there are a number of watsits. This be maths. Cos numbers and stuff. Is this maths? I don't have a clue.

Anyway, to elucidate, a shoal of flamingos ''exist'' because there be a ''number'' of birdy-lookin' whatchamacallits that be there e.g. you can break your neighbor, hoppy hoppy, thin stickleback legs, ouchy ouchy, smash their window.

Birds got mass. 8-)

Moreover, I think maths would agree with this point of view, because me and maths (maths an I!) are good mates. We get on well, dress well, and fell down a well.

I remember reading once.

Once, twice, three times a lady, upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away, in the early bird, mathematicians salivated over the existence of wormholes as a catch for wiggerly waves. You just can't catch 'em. Wiggerly waves. You just can't catch 'em.

But you got to catch 'em all. Pokémon.

Mathematicians promptly whipped out their calculators and Whabang! Detective Esther to the rescue. You just can't catch her.

In other wordibobs, the whole shebang of existence in mathematics is based on calculating the number of whathaveyous on the dujamaflip, and Bob's got your sixpence. You just can't catch him.

Therefore, mathematically speaking, God exists.