Angel of Harlots

Yep. It's Been a While; But That's Going to Change

2011-05-23T19:41:00.001-07:00

Sorry, y'all. I've been so busy keeping up with my fitness blog (yeah; I'm linking to it here because I'm *thisclose* to coming out of the closet entirely), that I've neglected my heathen readers. I'm sorry about that. I'm about to embark on something that will lead to at least one post a month, though.

It's not necessarily something to be proud of. But I'm doing it in order to feel like I'm making the best of a sorry situation.

There is a Christian ministry called Angel Food Ministries. It is not a free-food-for-the-poor-and-homeless ministry (though I support those wholeheartedly). It is a ministry to simply help people who need to cut their food costs somewhat. And I am currently one of those people.

Before you start feeling all sorry for me, I'm not about to be foreclosed on; I'm not defaulting on loans; I'm not starving. I haven't even had to stop my daughter's expensive music lessons. But in order to maintain the quality of life I have currently, I need to start cutting some costs. I've recently had a decrease in income. So, I no longer have cable TV; I no longer have someone to come help with housecleaning once a month; I'm trying to be more responsible with my money in several ways. But I'm still very comfortable, and my daughter and I are in no real danger. Just to put things into perspective. I'm just having trouble keeping a reasonable cash cushion while keeping up with the regular bills and all the debt payments every month. I'm looking to cut easy corners where I can.

So here's where Angel Food Ministries comes in. I would love to save on my grocery bill. I am not a great grocery shopper, so I tend to spend more than I have to spend because I do not purchase wisely. Angel Food Ministries is a program that buys food in bulk (at a significantly lower cost than retail), separates the food into packages, and sells the food to its consumers at cost. This results in incredibly cheap groceries for those who order boxes from them. It is first-rate groceries, no dent and scratch or too-ripe produce; and the food is about half the cost of what you get at the grocery. They do not make a profit from this; it is indeed a "ministry, " a "good deed."

The only catch? They put Christian literature into every box. There is no requirement that you attend any church; you don't have to report on your reading. They just put it there.

I struggled with whether it would be ethical for me to take advantage of this service, knowing full well that they are not going to tell me anything I haven't already heard, and that I am most likely not going to reconvert. Then I had a thought.

I'm thinking that I'm their intended audience. I mean, why would they need to distribute Christian literature to folks who are already Christian, right? So, here's what I've decided to do.

I am going to order and purchase food from Angel Food Ministries. And I am going to read every word of the literature they distribute with the food (that is already more than most people who purchase from them, I'm sure). Then I will blog on it. I may not say what they want me to say, but it will be exposure that they would not have otherwise. And who knows? Perhaps they will have some enlightening revelation that will pull me back into the fold. You never know.

So prepare yourselves, folks. I'm back on the regular blogging circuit.

Update to the Update

2011-02-10T07:34:00.001-08:00

Well, human long-term memory strikes again.

I'm posting this as a new post to make it more visible, because I don't want anyone to feel like I tried to bury my admission of a mistake. I recently watched the video of the panel discussion in question, and Blair does not address the question and poll the audience. He simply moves on, as I had originally remembered.

I was under the impression that the people I was talking to who gave me the information in my update below had watched the video. They had not; they were going by memory as well. Now that I've seen the video, I see that my initial recollection was correct.

Before anyone goes judging me or my friends for trying to twist the truth, I'd like to inform you that everything you remember about anything is wrong, too. Human memories become distorted with time. No matter how clearly you think you remember something, I assure you, some details have changed. This has been proven time and again; and that is why I was so ready to correct myself when presented with my friends' description of the events. Next time, I'll be sure to wait and watch the video myself before making any amendments.

I hope everyone who has read any postings regarding this incident will watch the video and judge for themselves. I feel like the video supports my point of view. Your mileage may vary.

Females, Womyn, Dicks, and SERAM

2011-02-08T16:45:00.000-08:00

There is a lot of buzz going around in atheist cyberspace right now regarding the South East Regional Atheist Meet (SERAM) and sexism. There was an incident during one of the panel discussions, and attendee Sharon Moss wrote this guest post about it on the Blag Hag. I was also an attendee, and I was present during the incident. I'd like to blog a response to Sharon's post from my point of view (I'm not going to rehash the story here, but rather quote snippets from the aforementioned post; it is not my intention to take anything out of context. Please use the link above and read the entire post, and if you find that I have misrepresented anything, please feel free to mention it in the comments). The subject was women feeling uncomfortable in atheist groups because men incessantly hit on them.

First, the panelists grabbed a theme that had been floating around all weekend: that men hitting on women is just biological (therefore excusable), making it sound like a woman in that kind of situation should just STFU and get over it.

I did not get the impression that the panel had come to this conclusion at all. In fact, one of my favorite quotes came from a young man on the panel who said that men in atheist groups should take Phil Plait's advice and "just don't be a dick." There were other good points that were mentioned aside from male biology, such as the fact that if you meet someone of the opposite sex at an atheist/freethinkers meeting, you know right off the bat that you share one very important point of view (one that is statistically difficult to randomly run into in gen pop). That makes the prospect of finding a date at a meeting enticing. It was also generally agreed upon that men need to dial it back considerably, and stop being so damned creepy. I was enjoying the discussion, and I thought it was on its way to being very productive. Until...

So I wasn’t surprised when the young woman who finally stood up and started challenging the panel snapped.

Okay, now I wouldn't say she snapped. She was frustrated because she felt like her raised hand was being ignored (she was way in the back, but really the panel wasn't paying much attention to the audience in general), but I'd say that claiming that she "snapped" is a little insulting to the woman in question.

Her question focused on the language the panel had been using - “female” instead of “woman,” and pointed out that it made us sound like livestock rather than people.

Okay. Here is where I think I'm going to really piss people off, because I'm going to be honest about what I think of this. First of all, I want to say that I don't feel like the woman should be criticized or shamed for having an emotional response and speaking up. She had every right to raise her hand and let her feelings be known.

But.

The woman's question had nothing to do with the issue being discussed. I honestly was stunned that she even said it, considering that the actual subject of women feeling uncomfortable because of unwanted advances from men in atheist groups is a very real issue that needed to be discussed. Why bring up semantics?

Okay, she was offended. I get that. I'm not angry about that, nor do I think badly of her for being offended. But that does not mean that I have to agree with her, or even respect her reasons for being upset. I should not be expected to automatically respect her views just because she was offended any more than I should be expected to respect a creationist's views because they are offended by evolution in science class.

But did the panel address the question, perhaps looking for the point at which the discussion took on the word “female” so universally? Did they take the opportunity to discuss how things like language can make a group uncomfortable for women, and what we could do to make it better? No!

This is correct; the panel did not dwell on the question. This woman's question was a frivolous semantics issue, and the consensus among the audience was that no one else had an issue with it. It did not need to be given any more time than it was given.

The woman asking the question was viciously torn apart and ridiculed for even bringing it up.

No. No, she wasn't.

First, a combination of panelists and audience members tried to defend themselves by saying that feminists won’t let men use the word “women” off-limits because it has “men” in it. Then a commotion of everyone talking at once, which was cut off by one panelist’s definitive comment: “What do you want us to say, ‘the weaker sex?”

The reality of what happened here was that there was a discussion (yes, the whole "women/womyn" thing was brought up), it became an unorganized murmur among the group, and a guy on the panel made a joke. The words I remember him saying were "Okay, from here on out we'll just say 'the weaker sex.'" It was a joke to point out the fact that people don't refer to us like that anymore, and we needed to move on. I think that moving on with humor was a good tactic; having a sense of humor about potentially caustic subjects helps diffuse the tension. When you can laugh at something, it renders it benign.

She got upset (and who wouldn’t be?)

Me. I wouldn't.

I - a member of the audience, not one of the event organizers - went after her.

This is the only comment in the post that makes me genuinely angry, because it is a lie. Christie Swords, an event organizer, got up and immediately followed the woman to the bathroom to talk to her and see if she was okay. She stayed there with her until the end of the panel discussion. In fact, I had to go in to let her know that she was due to be on stage for her own panel so she would not be late.

...the moderator sort of awkwardly pushed the discussion on to a new topic, with an embarrassed air of “Sorry for the disturbance.”

As he should have. This was not something that needed to derail the conference. The moderator pulled the panel back on topic; that is what moderators are supposed to do.

This is where I stop my commentary because the remainder of Sharon's post is regarding Sean Faircloth's speech on Saturday, and I was not present for that.

There are many people, men and women alike, who were present at the conference and, like me, feel that Sharon's post misrepresents the events and attitude at SERAM. It worries me that the uproar regarding our opinions seems to always come back to the fact that we "didn't respect the offended woman." As a freethinker, I'm quite offended that fellow freethinkers expect me to mindlessly respect someone's actions and emotions when they are directly inverse to my observations and experience.

I want to end this with the statement that I like Jen (the Blag Hag); I don't always agree with her, and that's okay. I like the fact that as skeptics and freethinkers, we are individuals. I won't stop reading her very well written blog just because her stance on feminism is different from mine. The fact that there are differences makes me think, and examine my own opinions and ideas, and that is what I seek. Just because I express a dissenting opinion does not mean that I have lost any respect for her; on the contrary, intellectual debate and discussion helps us grow and learn. That's a positive thing, y'all.

Update: After some conversation with others who were also in attendence and have recently viewed the video from the panel, I feel that I should add that the moderator actually did address the issue, and asked the audience if they felt the use of the term "female" was offensive. Only two women raised their hand. Then he asked the audience if they didn't find it offensive and everyone laughed and agreed that it was not an issue. The woman then asked the moderator whether he was offended when called a "male," to which he replied, "No, because I am a male." That is when the "weaker sex" joke was made and the woman left the room, upset. These things are all clear on the video and audio, which will be released soon.

Update to the update: See new post. My update has some misinformation. Le sigh.

My First Persecution

2010-10-10T19:40:00.000-07:00

Today, my daughter suffered because of who I am.

J has been best friends with B for four years. When you are 14 years old, that is a big chunk of your life. They are very, very close. This weekend, J spent the night with B at B's Nana's house (Nana is B's biological mother). B is the daughter of a lesbian couple, who are now split up (B calls the other half of that couple "Mom"), but Nana lives with her current girlfriend in a happy relationship. I know that's a lot of explaining; but it's kind of important, because it will be useful information later.

Well, apparently, today Nana decided that I am a bad role model and have poor parenting values. Because I am an open atheist and because I am in a polyamorous relationship. Apparently, J and I are corrupting B, and causing her to behave unacceptably. In other words, B does not believe in god, and it is our fault. So, she does not want J and B to spend time together anymore. Oh, and Nana apparently does not want B to grow up to accept people who live non-traditional lifestyles.

Yeah, I'm going to give you a second to process that last one. It blew my mind, too.

First of all, J didn't convert B to atheism.

When J and B first met, B already did not believe in god. She had a pretend, joke deity she called "Afro Roller Skating Jesus," but it was made up, just like other religions. The difference was, B knew this one was made up.

J did not convince B that there was no god. J and B did bond more quickly, I think, because they shared similar worldviews. It's kind of tough to find a fellow 10 year old atheist in the southern United States. So yes, J and B say things sometimes that many people would consider shocking and irreverent. I didn't have a problem with it; kids need a safe outlet for things like that. They both had problems with issues that religion caused them in their personal lives, and they needed to blow off some steam sometimes. I saw no harm in it. Nana doesn't see it that way. To paraphrase what Nana told me today, as long as B lives with her and is under 18, she is going to try to guide her to believe what they believe. No underage freethinking in the Nana household, I guess.

As for Nana disapproving of my lifestyle, that does baffle me. It's not like I scream it from the rooftops, or wear tee shirts saying "I love my girlfriend and our boyfriend" (although that would be a hilarious and awesome tee shirt). B came with us all on a day trip to a big aquarium in our area, so yeah, she is aware that I have a girlfriend and a boyfriend, but it isn't like we all stripped down and started going at it in front of everybody; to anyone seeing the group, it looked like a big group of family and friends visiting the fucking aquarium.

I'm sure Nana has never been persecuted here in the South for believing in god; but I wonder whether she has ever been persecuted for being a lesbian? Did it not bother her? Did her child suffer for it?

I wonder how she would feel if I had been the one who decided that I didn't want J to hang out with B because I felt like her lifestyle was wrong, and it might corrupt my child? I wonder how she would feel if I told her that her family was invalid because it wasn't my idea of what a family should be?

What I can't understand is how can she be so intolerant, when she lives a life that is so susceptible to discrimination and persecution as well? And why does she feel like it's fair to punish our girls for it? She isn't hurting me; I don't give a flying shitcake what she thinks of me. She's hurting my baby girl. And I do care about that. I care about that a lot. And I'm furious. She is also hurting her own baby girl, and I care about that, too. B is a great kid, and I really hate what she must be going through right now. She is going to have religion shoved down her throat horribly for a while, and she's going to be censored like crazy.

All of this makes part of me want to run and hide; change my lifestyle to be more normal, and pretend that I believe in religion just to seem normal. Maybe even go to church once in a while.

But it makes a bigger part of me want to come out to everyone, and just say "Hey. This is who I am. I'm a bisexual, polyamorous atheist with a fucking southern accent. We're a rare breed, and if you don't like it, you can kiss my deviant heathen ass!"

I won't do either of those things. I'll continue to be who I am, but keep it low key. I'll continue to raise my child to be who she is, and do my best to keep her safe while she's doing so. I'll continue to nurture her critical thinking skills, encourage her skepticism, and love her for everything she is. And all I can do is hope that's good enough.

Yes, We Can Get Along

2010-09-24T23:38:00.000-07:00

Phil Plait himself said it at TAM 8. Don't be a dick.

I recently had a very difficult honor to fulfill. My best friend, S (you read about her here) asked me to write and deliver the eulogy for her mother. As you can imagine, I was very close to her mother. She was my Aunt D (shortened for anonymity). I loved Aunt D so much, and I am so sad that she is gone. S wanted me to do her eulogy because I knew her, and also because she enjoys my writing and felt that I could inject some humor and happiness into what was such a sad, difficult time. I did my best.

Now, as you know from reading about S, she is a believer, but now knows that I am an atheist. That has not changed our friendship one bit. She really is the best. Aunt D was also a believer, and so there was a preacher who spoke at her funeral. S made a point to tell the preacher up front that her mother's funeral was not to be made into a spectacle to further his spiritual agenda (she didn't use those words; but that's the gist of what she told him), and that if he went too long or started getting too preachy (she did not want a sermon), that she would have no problem getting up and telling him to stop (this is all what I remember; I may be embellishing. But she is a spitfire, so this isn't an exaggeration). She would have, too. He seemed to understand.

The preacher opened with a few words and a prayer. S sat between her husband and me, with his arm around her shoulders and my hand clasped in hers. I didn't bow my head for the prayer; I was reflecting on my memories of Aunt D. She was fine with that.

The singers stood and sang. Of course they were Christian songs; and it was right that they were. I sat with my best friend and held her hand through the music. The singers sang beautifully.

Then it was time for me to get up and speak. This was a difficult time for me; I was terrified that I would not memorialize Aunt D as well as I felt she deserved. I was a little afraid that I might offend some of the family by not mentioning things that they felt were important. I was afraid that I would break down and not be able to finish. But I was honored that S had asked me to do this for her, and so I stood and walked to the podium, and delivered the best eulogy that I could deliver.

I said shit a few times in the eulogy. It was intentional. S knew I was going to say it; I was saying it quoting Aunt D. You see, Aunt D was one of the very few parents of my friends who would say "shit" in front of me as a child. I always thought that was awesome, and it was something I wanted to mention. Because it was a happy memory. And it was who she was. S also wanted me to mention the phrase "dumber than owl shit," because Aunt D said that often. So I worked that in there, too. I didn't say anything about where Aunt D "was now," that she was in a "better place," or any gods or Jesus or anything spiritual. I spoke about the strong, beautiful, loving woman that I remember, and about her daughter who so lovingly and selflessly took care of her during her final days. The preacher was displeased, but he didn't show it overtly. He gave me subtle glares. As if to say with his eyes, "I know that you are not one of us; you speak of earthly things."

After I sat down, it was the preacher's turn again. He said very little about Aunt D. He gave a mini sermon. Which is the opposite of what S requested. He talked about how he knew that everyone in the room had an ultimate goal to be with God (wrong), and how Christians should not dread death, but look forward to it, because they finally get their reward. I wonder how he would have felt if a crazy psycho had broken into the funeral home at that moment and offered to give him his reward? The hypocrisy infuriates me.

He made a reference along the lines of some people believe the world was started with a big bang - and "we all know that that is a lie." When he said that, S gave my hand a squeeze, as if to say, "I know. Don't say anything. Everybody knows he is absurd." I just love her so much. Of course, I sat there respectfully. I was there for S and Aunt D. This preacher man was not going to get a rise out of me.

After it was over, almost everyone hugged me warmly and told me that they appreciated what I had said about Aunt D. Except the preacher. He gave me a cold handshake and didn't say a word.

But, there were no cross words. There was no spectacle. As much as it pained him, he did not approach me about my irreverance. And I did not approach him about his. We silently agreed to disagree, and everything remained calm.

I guess my point is, when you have people who love each other very much (such as S and me), you can have huge differences in world view, and it's okay. It doesn't have to ruin anything. And when there is someone that you just really don't like (such as preacher man and me), you can just keep your mouth shut sometimes.

Phil was right. It's best to just not be a dick.

TAM 8

2010-07-14T20:01:00.000-07:00

Sorry I haven't posted in so very long; I've been staying busy. Trips with my wonderful daughter, music lessons with said daughter, new job, new hobbies, new friends, new boyfriend and girlfriend...lots of good things to take up my time. So the blog fell a bit by the wayside. I'll try to do better.

This post is about the James Randi Educational Foundation's fantastic convention in Las Vegas, Nevada, The Amazing Meeting 8 (TAM 8). My daughter, her father, his wife, and I all went this year, and we had a fantastic time.

If you don't know about jref, or TAM, click the links to see what I'm talking about. Because I'm not going to bore you with trying to explain what they do when the language on their website is so much more eloquent than anything I can say; what I'm going to post here are the highlights of the trip.

Meeting wonderful, intelligent, skeptical, thinking people, like Shaune and Cindy, Kitty, Mark...so many more than I can mention here. It's nice to find out you're not alone.
Meeting Mr. Deity himself. I nearly died.
Hearing brilliant talks and forums that inspired questions, discussions, and debates.
The juggling workshop.
Did I mention that I met Mr. Deity?
Adam Savage signed my duct tape purse.
Spending time with my incredible daughter in Vegas. We attended talks, laughed, saw the Bodies and Titanic exhibits at the Luxor, visited the Hoover Dam, had a spa day...I just really enjoyed the hell out of having such a cool getaway with her.

This may not be one of my more entertaining posts. But I wanted to share a bit about my trip, and also let everyone know that yes, I'm still alive.

More soon.

The Error of My Ways

2010-04-01T08:01:00.000-07:00

Today I had a conversation with someone who convinced me that I have been wrong. So very, very wrong.

I have re-accepted Jesus Christ as my Savior, and from here on out this will be a testament to my thankfulness for His grace and that he could forgive a sinner like me, who so callously turned her back on Him.

I am so ashamed of my falling away. I just pray that my brothers and sisters in Christ will understand and someday forgive me as He has.

APRIL FOOLS!!!!!!!

A New Random 7

2010-03-30T20:48:00.000-07:00

They are themselves random, and they are posted at random times. This is the nature of the Random 7.

Sometimes, when your uterus is falling out and your hormones are making you feel like you need to set something on fire, cookies help.
Also? Beer.
Sometimes, I do things that are only funny to me. I don't care whether anyone else thinks it's funny; it makes me laugh and it makes me happy. For instance (Note to my daughter: you are going to want to skip this one and go straight to #4; DO NOT READ IT AND IF YOU DO THEN YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO COMPLAIN BECAUSE I WARNED YOU), the face washing product I use looks very much like semen. Recently when I was showering with someone, I said, "Hey, look at this..." and proceeded to squirt a glop of it on my face like a money shot. I laughed and laughed. I think he was only moderately amused. Actually, I think it may have only been a pity snicker.
My daughter read that last one. She would have laughed if anyone else in the world wrote it. But now she's traumatized.
I have a new job and my boss is totally cool. I can say things to him that are entirely inappropriate and he just laughs at them. It is awesome.
I also have a totally sexy coworker across the cubicle wall from me. He's the guy from #3.
My daughter just got pissed off again because she read that one. I didn't warn her about it because I knew it wouldn't do any good.

Vive la Clichés

2010-03-17T18:54:00.000-07:00

There are several cliché questions about atheists, some serious and some not so serious. I have to admit, I have contemplated all of these with some degree of sincerity.

What do atheists say when someone sneezes?

This one is a real dilemma for me; the standard response is that we should say "gesundheit" (German for "high health" or "good health"); but have you ever heard a girl with a southern drawl say "gesundheit?" It's quite comical. And by comical I mean horrible and really, really embarrassing. So what do I say? Honestly, it seems really stupid to me that we are expected to respond at all when someone sneezes. I mean, it's no big deal; we don't say anything when someone blows their nose. Lately I've been just staying quiet. It makes people think I'm being an ass, but really, when they say "bless you," do they really think they are preventing a demon from entering the sneezer's body? If so, who is the ass, really?

I've recently decided that whenever someone sneezes, I'm going to start saying, "May the force be with you."

When atheists are thankful for their good fortune, to whom or what are they thankful?

This is actually a question I've seriously asked myself. I have a lot to be thankful for. I was raised in a comfortable, loving home. I have a family who loves me and each other very much. I have a fantastic, healthy, brilliant, funny, beautiful kid who completes my life. I am healthy. I am intelligent enough to earn a good living. I live in a country where there is plenty of food and clean water. I have many more things to be thankful for; too many to list here. I am thankful every day. But to whom? To what? Honestly, I don't know. I'm just thankful. I'm just thankful in general that my life is so nice. No comedy here; no real answer, either, I suppose.
Where do you get your morals, if not from God?

My vagina.

Seriously, though. Let's list a few people who get/got their morals from their god. Fred Phelps. Osama bin Laden. Tomás de Torquemada. Now let's list a few people who get/got their morals from common sense and reason. Bill Gates. Albert Einstein. Andrew Carnegie.

I know who I'd rather have dinner with.

Now before any christian lurkers jump on me for saying that all religious people are homophobic, hateful, genocidal assholes, let me clarify; I'm not saying that everyone who learns their morals from religion is bad. There are obviously some very good teachings in many religions. What I'm saying is that it is not abnormal for someone who is not religious to be a good, giving, moral person. We get our morals from who we are; from evolutionary brain development; from socialization; from just knowing that it is unpleasant to be hurt, and making a conscious decision to not hurt others.
Why do atheists get married?

Fuck if I know. This one sure as hell is never going to again.
What do atheists call Christmas?

I call it Christmas.

I Am A Freak

2010-02-24T20:16:00.000-08:00

But I totally want one of these. First thing on the list after a lottery win.

STOP JUDGING ME.

http://www.dominicwilcox.com/orgasmatron.html

Best. Show. Ever.

2010-02-19T18:37:00.001-08:00

I just discovered a new program on HBO that all my fellow skeptics and atheists must watch. The Ricky Gervais Show. 8:00 Central time on Friday night on HBO. Holy shit it is funny.

I'm not sure whether the actual premise of the show is skepticism (though I know that Gervais is an outspoken skeptic and atheist), but what I saw of tonight's show was basically Ricky and his sidekick mocking the shit out of another guy who kept spouting off indefensible random ideas, with no facts to back them up, treating them as "truths." I can't explain it; it was just fucking funny. Watch it. It's animated.

Oh my fucking Flying Spaghetti Monster. It is funny.

I Need Ideas

2010-02-16T12:12:00.000-08:00

So, tomorrow is Ash Wednesday for the Catholics and various other Christian denominations. It's a day when you see random people walking around with grey stuff smudged on their foreheads and you had damned well better not mention it because boy, will they give you a go-fuck-yourself-and-die look. Not that I know this by experience or anything.

For the record, if you ever see me walking around with a big black smudge on my forehead, please wipe it off for me. I won't even complain too much if you lick your thumb first like a mom (though it won't be as effective, because everyone knows that only True Mother's Spit has the magical properties required to properly get stuff off faces).

So I was thinking. I think atheists need a special day where we walk around with some glaring abnormality and get insanely pissed off if anyone questions us about it. Maybe Open Fly Friday, or Shirt Buttoned Wrong Saturday, or Tag Out Tuesday (ooo...that last one came to me all of a sudden and it is my favorite...).

Ideas for our new special day? Do the Pastafarians already have something like this (I know; Google is my friend, but I don't really care enough to look it up).

One More Thing...Okay, Two.

2010-02-10T12:05:00.000-08:00

Sorry. This Chick Tract panel made me snicker. Because you know, I'm 12.
I'm pretty sure she didn't get preggers when HG came upon her.

Updated

Oh, for the love of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, they have to be doing this on purpose.Well, if it's true that the pathway to a man's heart is through his stomach, I've got some bad news for you, Abdul.

I...I Don't Know What to Say.

2010-02-10T11:45:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I read Chick Tracts. Because they are so awesomely bad. Badly drawn, badly conceived, badly written. And oh so hilarious. It's like a big, gooey slice of what-the-fuck??? pie.

Today I saw a new tract, hot off the press. And I have never been so disgusted in my life.

Read it here.

How do they come up with this stuff? Seriously, what the fuck?
Okay, so the skinwalker thing is based on a Native American legend. It's a story. It looks as if Jack and his writers think it is real. I suppose that isn't much of a stretch for someone who believes that a guy walked on water and the earth is only 6000 years old, but still. I'm floored.
Let's see...how can we insult an entire culture? Oh! Oh, oh, oh! I have a great idea! Let's demonize them in a story and explain how they will all burn eternally in hell unless they change into us!
The Native American lady goes to hell at the end. Not because she shot a guy; but because she didn't kiss the haloed ass of Jesus. They just stuck the shooting of the guy in there so we wouldn't think about the fact that the children of the tribe and all the nice people in the tribe are going to hell, too. Because Jesus loves them.
I can't say it enough. What. The. Fuck.

Quick Tuesday Funny

2010-02-09T22:34:00.000-08:00

So, tonight my daughter and I were having a little talk. My life is changing now that I'm a free woman, and there are things that I will start doing that she may not want to know about. Like dating. And stuff. So, the point of the conversation was that I will not lie to her (lying is a severely punishable offense in my home); so don't ask me questions to which you do not want to know the answer.

So she asks, "Have you ever had sex for money?"

I easily and truthfully answered, "No."

"...unless you count marriage."

Quickie Post - Question for My Male Readers

2010-01-21T12:01:00.000-08:00

I'm just curious.

When being complimented by males over the past few years, they have referred to me as "sexy." More than one man has used this same word.

My question is, what is the distinction between "sexy" and "hot?" I can't think of a time I've ever even used the word "sexy," except to describe a singer's voice. (yes, voice. shutty.)

So okay, male readers. It's time for you to sack up and leave an answer in the comments. I know there are more of you than Dr. Kiwi and Runolfr.

Speaking from Experience

2010-01-08T12:55:00.000-08:00

Sorry I haven't posted in a while. I'm just now recovering from the holiday whirlwind.

My cat has some issues that cause him to be prone to certain infections. They are not life-threatening, but very uncomfortable for him. As a result, I have to administer medications when he does get sick. I've put together a little quick-reference list for those who don't have experience with giving pills to cats. Enjoy.

How to Give a Cat a Pill

Pick up cat and hold as you would a baby about to take a bottle. Use your forefinger and thumb to apply gentle pressure to the sides of the jaw to pry open the mouth. Be patient.
Drop pill into cat’s mouth. Pay close attention to where he spits out pill as he runs away.
Pick up the pill from the floor and retrieve the cat from under the living room couch. Scratch his head to calm him, and repeat steps 1 and 2.
Go upstairs and get cat from under the bed, and throw away the soggy pill. Take a second pill from the bottle, and sit in bedroom floor with the cat. This time, cradle cat so that rear paws are constrained. Open cat’s mouth and drop in pill. Hold cat’s mouth closed for a few seconds.
Apply pressure to the arm that was constraining the rear paws to stop the bleeding.
Pick up half-dissolved pill and discard. Take another pill from bottle. Search house for cat.
Call neighbor and ask him to hold the cat for you while you administer the pill. Hold cat’s mouth open with one hand and place the pill at the back of cat’s throat with the other.
Clean, disinfect, and bandage neighbor’s hands. Retrieve pill remnants from his hair. Take another pill from bottle.
Get cat down from curtain rod.
Take cat to bedroom and gently lay on him with his face sticking out from under your armpit. Pry open cat’s mouth and drop pill in.
Recover pill from under bed. Pretreat bedcover with an enzyme treatment before laundering to aid in full removal of blood stains. Drive to local clinic for stitches.
Upon returning home, find a sterile eyedropper and fill with cool water. Gather cat and head to the bathroom. Find a fluffy towel, sit on floor with cat, and swaddle him in towel.
Open cat’s mouth and drop pill in, followed by dropperfull of water.
Retrieve cat from top of shower rod. Go ahead and flush toilet (where pill landed) and take another pill from bottle. Check scalp for bleeding; treat as necessary.
Call vet to inform him that you are having issues. Hang up the phone after he tells you that the medication can be administerd by him in one dose via shot.

IMPORTANT: Do not call your lawyer until after you return from the veterinarian’s office. If you call before leaving, the phone call is evidence of premeditation (murder one) and reduces your chances for an insanity plea.

Is God Dead?

2009-12-01T10:13:00.000-08:00

A question that theists often ask atheists is, "If God does not exist, then why do so many people believe in him? Do you really think that almost everyone else in the whole history of the world is stupid?"

I do not believe that people who historically believed or currently believe in a god or gods are stupid. I believe they are acting on an evolved, basic human need.

I also believe that the basis for this need is diminishing rapidly, and that eventually (though probably not in my lifetime) we will further evolve to lack this need.

The number of people who identify as non-religious, atheist, agnostic, etc., is growing rapidly. This begs the question:

Is God dead? Or dying?

More specifically, has the anthropomorphic theistic god morphed over time into the more ideological pantheistic god, and possibly on to the mostly benign deistic god?

Philosophically speaking, I do believe that this is what is happening.

While I don't believe that the theistic god(s) ever literally existed, I do see where the world once had a need for it/them.

In early human history, there was the perception that everything that was not caused directly by humans was magic. Lightning? Magic. Earthquake? Magic. Solar eclipse? HOLYSHITMAGIC! When people have very little to no understanding of the natural world, they construct their own explanations. Humans have a need to understand why things happen, and history has shown that we will satisfy that need; when presented with a question for which a real answer is not readily available, we will substitute our own artificial reality: the God of the Gaps.

As we have evolved and developed, humans have sought knowledge; we have hypothesized and tested and learned. The god of the gaps has become the answer to fewer and fewer questions.

How do plants grow?
Old answer: God
Current answer: Carbohydrates are synthesized from carbon dioxide and water using light as an energy source; otherwise known as photosynthesis.

What makes a rainbow?
Old answer: God
Current answer: The refractive dispersion of sunlight in drops of rain or mist.

What created the Universe?
Old answer: God
Current answer: The Big Bang. Probably. Actually, we're still working on that one.

My point is, the trend is that eventually, science tends to answer the questions. Will we ever have a solid answer for where the Universe came from? Maybe. Will we ever know for sure what happens when we die? Maybe. There's no way of knowing right now what we will and will not discover; but that does not mean that the answer is God.

There are still many today, the majority, in fact, who cling to the idea of the father god, the creator, as the answer to the questions that remain a mystery; but the fact is that with technological advances and easy access to instant worldwide communication, the gaps are closing faster than ever. Someday there will be no need for a supernatural explanation for anything at all. Eventually, people will have no choice but to concede that their religion is no more than superstition, and it has been replaced with knowledge and reality. This is, essentially, the death of God.

Update: This post is essentially a repost of a response I wrote to a forum post by khalis at Nashville Gothic. I initially did not reference the post for the sake of anonymity, since I had not previously mentioned that I am in the Nashville area. But fuck it. If you're here in the first place, you're at least thinking about atheism, right?

And I couldn't possibly come up with musings on Nietzsche's idea on my own.

Seven Days of Folly

2009-11-23T20:02:00.001-08:00

My daughter wrote a song. Well, she wrote words to a song, with the tune of an existing song in mind. I think it's pretty awesome.

Here is the note she sent me about it, followed by the lyrics she wrote:

ok, right now it's 12:45 in the morning so i'm sending you this instead of
waking you up. you're welcome. i'm just so excited. you know horse shoes and
handgrenades? well i wrote new lyrics. sing these lyrics to that song. its about
how bad a job god did in genesis.

The seventh day

What the fuck is wrong with him?
I think he’s gone insane.
All the tornadoes, and volcanoes
What the hell’s with the hurricane?

Mabye he’s all powerful
But he won’t have your back in a fight
The first six days he ruined every thing
And the seventh is the flag of white

He better turn this around
We don’t like how it is
We want domestic, not hectic
What kind of world do you call this?

Mabye he’s all powerful
But he won’t have your back in a fight
The first six days he ruined every thing
And the seventh is the flag of white

She's 13. I think it's really good. :-)

A Few Responses

2009-11-09T16:34:00.000-08:00

In the real world, I don't advertise my atheism for several reasons. The two biggest reasons involve my family back in my hometown. My mother is in poor health, and I don't want her to spend her last years tortured with the idea that her daughter is going to burn in Hell; and my brother owns a business in my tiny, ultra conservative hometown, and if word got around that N was an evil, godless heathen, that would damage his livelihood considerably. My right to free expression is not important enough to me to cause my family grief.

I live far enough away from my hometown that I could be more public with my atheism here than I currently am. But, a lesser reason that I avoid the topic of atheism in mixed company is that I feel ill equipped to defend my position. Sure, here on my blog I voice a strong opinion, and ramble freely in defense of what I believe; but when writing a blog post, I have plenty of time to think about what I'm going to say. I have access to http://www.biblegateway.com/, where I can look up passages to back up what I'm saying. I have the luxury of the delete button if I re-read something I've said and it turns out to actually be dumber than banana kool-aid. I don't have those advantages in a tête-à-tête with a fundamentalist christian who has plenty of preconceived notions and canned responses in his or her arsenal.

I expect that the day will come when I am willing to be honest about my lack of belief in a public situation. I think about what I will say to the standard questions and comments. Some of the responses I imagine are repetitions of excellent arguments made by brilliant skeptics I've read; some of them are original statements drawn from my personal experience over the years. I'll share some of them here. Please feel free to comment/critique/debate any of them. I'm not afraid of friendly debate and conversation. I only avoid conflict in the land of the living because I fear my response to the flaring tempers that I would be sure to encounter. Cyberspace shields me from that, somewhat. So, fire away.

Why are you angry with God?
I'm not angry with God. I don't believe in a god. How could I be angry with something in which I don't believe? Why are you angry with the little blue marmoset that lives in my shoe?

Jesus loves you.
You are wrong. There is no magical dead guy who loves me. The fact that you believe this based on a book of which you frankly know almost nothing regarding its origins and history floors me. My daughter loves me; my mother loves me. My brothers love me. Of this, I have evidence. Show me the evidence of this 2000 year old myth's love, and I will reconsider my position.

You have so many blessings. How do you explain those without God?
All of my blessings can be explained by chance, probability, hard work, or careful planning. You may argue that those I attribute to chance or probability were bestowed upon me by God; I say to you that I need evidence that God is the source. I am fortunate to have been born into a loving, intelligent, hard working, middle class American family (Yes, I feel fortunate to be American; you folks in other countries should feel fortunate to be from your country, too. It’s a matter of perspective.). That was luck of the draw; I had nothing to do with it. Was it a gift from God? Explain to me then where God is in relation to the baby born to abusive parents in a filthy, overcrowded crack house with no one who cares enough about him to ever teach him how to get out of his situation as he grows. Tell me why there are so many babies born into poverty and famine in underdeveloped countries. Why the polar differences? Wouldn’t it make more sense that a god who loves all of his children would give them all an equal start? At least closer to equal, at least?

That being said, yes, I am very fortunate, and I reflect on my good fortune often, with a very grateful heart.

How can you look at [that beautiful sunset, those majestic mountains, your daughter, anything natural and beautiful] and not believe in God?
I read. And I studied science. I know what makes those things. Guess what? It wasn't a god.
Aren't you afraid of going to Hell?
No. I'm also not afraid of ghosts, Freddie Kreuger, vampires, or zombies. I'm not afraid of anything that I don't believe in. Especially things that make absolutely no logical sense whatsoever.
Why don't you just believe? Isn't that safer than taking the chance that you are wrong?
Well, how do you know which religion I should believe in order to give me the greatest likelihood of achieving eternal bliss? How do you know that Christianity is right, and not Hinduism? Jainism? The Flying Spaghetti Monster? Islam? Satanism? Sikhism? Shinto? Rastafarianism? Scientology? They all have exactly the same amount of evidence supporting them. Which is none.
You are just evil.
Yes. I know. I work hard to provide for my daughter. I call my mama to check on her several times a week. I do everything in my power to help my friends when they need me. I give to charity. I recycle. For the love of all that is just, WHY HAVE I NOT BEEN LOCKED UP YET?!?

Praising the Virtues of Ignorance

2009-11-03T17:54:00.000-08:00

I decided to go to cbn.com, Pat Robertson's website, and look for the craziest thing I could find on there to ridicule mercilessly. Upon browsing the site, I saw more crazy than I could have ever imagined.

But you know what? It didn't immediately make me feel like mocking them. It actually made me feel sorry for the people who go to that site in earnest, seeking truth. There are so many people who have been deceived so completely, brainwashed so thoroughly, that they will believe anything they read, as long as it comes from a "Man of God." These people go to CBN and make decisions based on what they read there about what charities to support, how to raise their kids, how to handle their money, and even what movies to go watch. It is very sad to know that people so freely hand their life decisions over to a money and power crazed charlatan.

That being said, I did find something to ridicule.

Jackie Overpeck, a CBN contributor, wrote an article entitled The Smudgy Sin of Disbelief. She seems to be a nice enough lady; she even seems very sincere in her desire that her writing will help people. She is, however, an ignorant follower of the religious dogma that she was no doubt taught from childhood. She freely admits that she believes that doubt, skepticism, and knowledge-seeking are by their very nature sinful, and implies that they should be avoided at all costs.

Jackie writes:

A person who doubts is a called a skeptic. A skeptic is someone who hesitates at
the truth, especially religious teachings, including the Bible. Skepticism
has the same effect in our hearts that blotchy makeup has on our eyes.

Au contraire, my dear.

How can one say in good conscience that a skeptic hesitates at the truth? A skeptic is one who seeks the truth, above all else. Religious teachings, especially the Bible, are not truth; they are questionable history at best; fable and myth, most likely; and outright manipulative lies at worst. A skeptic hesitates at the unproven. A skeptic seeks evidence, repeatable outcomes, logical connections. In other words, the truth.

Being a doubter fills the heart with darkness. Why? Doubt divides us from the
truth. The truth is that which is sincere. The truth isn’t always easy, but it
is authentic and real.

Doubt does not divide us from the truth. Doubt causes us to probe further into cause and effect; to seek out the concrete; to execute the scientific method. Doubt leads us to truth. It's true that the truth isn't always easy. But without doubt, we never know what is authentic and real.

The best thing you can do is tell God about it. Disbelief causes us to
stand far away, point and say, “I doubt that.” Instead, get certainty. Get out
your Bible and search the Scriptures. Find out for yourself what God says by
quieting your mind and allowing the Holy Spirit to speak to your heart.

Yeah. That's great advice. I could (and probably will) write and entire blog post about the absurd things one can find in the scriptures. Someone smarter than I said it before, but it's true that the fastest way to atheism is to read the Bible.

And sure. Quiet your mind. Let the Holy Spirit speak to your heart. My guess? It's going to tell you EXACTLY WHAT YOU'VE BEEN WANTING VALIDATION FOR. The Holy Spirit is your own internal self-justification, numbnuts. You're just giving it an external validity.

Finally, she closes with:

I’m convinced that God has a Maybelline mascara remover bottle in heaven. How do I know? He has washed my darkened eyes from the smudgy sin of disbelief and
doubt many times.

Jesus. Why do christian writers always feel like they have to use a clever and witty analogy to begin and end their work? It's awesome when a writer is randomly inspired by a great analogy (a fantastic example is this entire post on skepticism by my friend Lord Runolfr). But the Maybelline mascara remover bottle in heaven? Really. That's lame. Dude.

I have learned to revel in the "smudgy sin of disbelief and doubt." I used to fear it, just as Ms. Jackie does. I used to sincerely believe that it was the work of the Devil. What opened my eyes? I'm not sure. I know that my realization of the futility of prayer was the first step; but it was a long, slow road to real reason.

I'm glad I travelled it.

♪♫Very Superstitious...♪♫

2009-10-27T17:40:00.000-07:00

I love Stevie Wonder. Yeah, he proselytizes at the end of his concerts. They're his concerts, he can do what he wants. He's still one hell of a musician.

As you may have guessed, this post is not about Stevie Wonder. It's about superstitions. And it may be somewhat disjointed and hard to follow, because I have several concepts fighting for top spot in my head. And I'm drinking rum.

When I was a christian, I claimed that I was not superstitious. Of course, I did not consider Christianity to be superstition; that was faith. It was different. Superstition was believing in something based on intangibles such as folklore and hearsay, notable coincidence, and random trial-and-error. My religion was nothing like that.

[pausing for laughter]

Of course religion is superstition. Prayer has no more effect on the physical world than a black cat crossing your path; but there are those who believe in one or the other, or both, and can cite you several accounts to back it up.

"I prayed that the mole would be benign, and it was! Praise Jesus for answered prayer!"

"That cat crossed in front of me this morning, and I got a speeding ticket! Damn cat!"

Both of those statements sound ludicrous to me now; but there was a time in my life when I gave much credence to prayer, and at least some consideration to the traditional "old wives' tale" superstitions. In fact, the most difficult step for me after becoming an atheist was giving up prayer. There were things I prayed for every night when I believed in God: my mother's health, my daughter's continued health and well-being, and safety and protection for my entire family to name a few (it just occured to me that there's a theme there). My nightly prayers were long, and I could not fall asleep without doing them. Once I came to terms with the fact that there was no one in any mystical place called Heaven who was listening, I had to learn to sleep without that nightly ritual. It took a while. For a very long time, when my daughter was going to go do something without me, I would almost instinctively think, "God, keep her safe." It was just a learned thought pattern for when I wanted something very, very much. I haven't prayed for a long time now, but it took a lot of retraining of my brain.

The thing is, once I let go of religion and prayer, I easily let go of all the other superstitions that I had once casually held. I no longer avoid opals (they are supposed to be bad luck); in fact, I recently bought an opal ring that I now wear every day. I'm not afraid of ghosts, or "haunted" places (though I still won't go through a Halloween haunted house because I can't stand the idea of putting my hand on something gross and slimy in the dark; THAT'S A LEGITIMATE FEAR). I don't worry about what shirt I wear on the day my favorite team is playing. In fact, I can't think of a single superstition I still hold.

I have heard several of my atheist friends talk about silly superstitions they still have. They understand that they're irrational and can't possibly be real; but they just can't ignore them. I find that fascinating. I wonder why humans are wired to think that way?

Do any of you still have any lingering superstitions, despite your embrace of reason? What are they? Why do you still believe it?

Awesome.

2009-10-20T11:21:00.001-07:00

I could not stop smiling through this whole video. Beautifully and artfully done.

And Now For a Post That Has Nothing to Do With Anything

2009-10-19T09:36:00.000-07:00

How can a person be this drunk and not be passed out?

Sometimes, I'm Serious

2009-10-13T19:34:00.000-07:00

This is one of those times.

Occasionally, someone lives on this planet who is so special, so wonderful, that he or she can make an atheist wish she still believed in Heaven. My precious, departed cousin Ron was one of those people.

Ron passed away years ago of the avian flu. He was a homosexual recovered alcoholic child of an (also recovered) alcoholic.

None of those things are what defined Ron. But he was not afraid to talk about any or all of them to anyone who was interested, or to anyone who he thought he could help by sharing.

This post is a tribute to his memory. I've been thinking about him a lot lately.

What did define Ron was this: he was a kind, loving, thoughtful, funny, honest (sometimes brutally so), and unselfish man. There are two particular memories of him that I think represent all of these qualities, when put together.

The first is a memory of the time that his mother (my aunt), my mother, and I went to visit him in New York City. He was a hairdresser (cliché, I know...), and a damn fine one. He did many models and movie/TV stars' hair regularly. Still, NYC is an expensive place, so he lived in a tiny studio apartment (his partner and he also had a home in the Poconos, but Ron spent the week in NYC). Still, he was happy to have us stay at his place, and made accomodations for us all. I ended up in the floor on an air mattress. On the morning that we were to leave NYC for the cabin in the Poconos, Ron graciously woke me up by pulling the plug on the mattress and watching me crash down on the floor and wake in a dazed stupor wondering "what the hell just happened, and why did the bed turn hard??" He laughed like a little girl. As did my mom and my aunt. Hilarious, y'all.

The next memory happened a few years later. Ron's father (my mother's brother) passed away. Ron and his father had a very volatile relationship. Ron came out as a gay man before my uncle quit drinking, and he suffered severe emotional and physical abuse at the hands of his father because of his homosexuality. After my uncle quit drinking, he was able to come to terms with the truth about his son, and they eventually formed a somewhat healthy relationship. These types of memories about someone that you love cause the grieving process to be much more complicated, and even more painful than average grieving. I knew that Ron was in a lot of pain.

When I arrived at the funeral home, I found Ron and went to give him a big hug. After our hug, he put his hand on my shoulder, and said, "Is this hard for you? Being here?"

He was referring to the fact that I had lost my father at such a young age.

Take a minute to let that sink in. He was going through terrible grieving, and his first thought was to comfort me.

That is who he was. He loved to laugh, he loved to make others laugh, and he cared deeply for the feelings and well-being of others.

It was because of Ron that I was able to finally accept my sexuality. It was from Ron that I learned that it is safe to forgive, even when someone has done terrible wrongs to you, if that person has made a true and sincere effort to make things right. It was Ron who taught me to embrace my curls (although I have been betraying him lately by using a straightening iron...). Ron made me feel beautiful, inside and out, because he was beautiful. Inside and out.

Rest in peace, Ron. If there is a Heaven, and if there is any universal justice, then you are there, having a blast. I love you, cuz.

A Quickie for My Canadian Friends

2009-10-12T07:25:00.000-07:00

Happy Thanksgiving, Canada!

I'm thankful for good health and modern medicine, all my readers, and llamas.

The llamas deserved a shout-out after I dissed them the other day.

No Pollack Jokes, Please

2009-10-10T08:51:00.000-07:00

Even though they are funny and my very good friend who is Polish and a first generation American finds them funny and isn't offended at all.

But this post isn't about racial jokes. It's about this article.

Apparently, there was a miracle in a Catholic Church in Poland.

The miracle happened during the mass. One of local priests was giving the Holy
Communion when suddenly it fell down on the floor. So he took it and put into a
chalice. After several days the chalice was filled with red water which was
poured out on a special ceremonial tablecloth. As it turned out, there was also
a strange things examined by the doctors. According to them it was a part of
human heart at the point of death condition.

I have both questions and observations regarding this alleged miracle.

First, I should point out that I was an evangelical christian, not a catholic, so I never believed in the literal transubstantiation of the host. We believed that communion, or the "Lord's Supper" as we called it, was a purely symbolic ritual. We still took it very seriously; but we did not believe that the crackers and grape juice (obviously we couldn't use real wine!) literally turned into human flesh.

From what I understand, catholics do believe in literal transubstantiation. So, if they believe that communion turns into literal flesh and blood every time it is blessed and given, then why call this a miracle? Is it because it turned into a heart? Is it supposed to turn into pancreas or gallbladder instead? I'd think that heart would be just as normal as any other organ or body part. Is it a miracle that it transfigured in a chalice rather than in the digestive system of a devout believer? Maybe that's it. We'll go with that.

Obviously, I don't believe that an actual miracle occurred. What disturbs me is that the article claims that a doctor examined the thing and declared that it "was a part of human heart at the point of death condition."

Ew.

Two possibilities immediately come to mind. Either 1) the doctor was lying, hoping that a for-real miracle would be attributed to his church and he'd have some measure of fame for confirming it, or 2) someone hacked a hunk of heart out of a human corpse and slipped it into the chalice.

That's just gross.

It's also a crime. I don't know about Poland, but in America, people donate their organs to save lives, or they donate their bodies to science for medical and forensic studies, but they don't just sign their bodies over for people to hack away at their organs for practical jokes or miracle-making.

Although that would be quite funny. Maybe I'll donate my body to Penn & Teller so they can do some kind of sick magic trick that can be verified by a medical examiner. Hilarious.

Anyway, whatever happened in Poland, I'm quite sure it was not a miracle. It was either a lie driven by a fame hungry doctor or a really sick attempt at manufacturing a miracle. I would not put either past those who hold religious power.

Things I Hate

2009-10-09T17:26:00.001-07:00

A little bitter tonight.

I hate that I have to be careful who I let know about my atheism. In this country, christians can prattle on about their churches and their faith and their bullshit stories about how "God did this" and "God did that," and to a lesser extent, muslims, hindus, jainists, wiccans, and just about any other religion you can think of, can talk about their silly superstitions all they want, and they have some sort of automatic respect, because you have to respect people's faith. But I tell someone that I am an atheist, a believer in the concrete, a lover of reason, and I could lose my job and many of my friends. There are lunatics who would even like to take my daughter away from me for raising her in an atheist home. It is outrageous and infuriating. I have no problem with anyone believing whatever they want, as long as they don't hurt others as a result of their belief, whether you believe that some guy walked on water and rose from the grave, or if you believe that breaking a mirror is seven years of bad luck. Believe it; that's fine. I don't. Live happy. I DESERVE THE SAME REACTION.
I hate that I have to hide the fact that I am a bisexual. I hate even more that my upbringing has instilled a deep rooted shame about my sexuality. I should not feel ashamed of who I am; but I do. Some people I know IRL read this blog because I put a link to it on our meetup site. I debated removing the post that outed me as a bisexual before I posted that link. Why? Because I was embarassed. It really, really pisses me off that I was embarassed and ashamed about something that is a part of me and has never caused anyone any harm. More people know about my sexuality than know about my atheism; but I still take great pains to hide it for the most part. Now, I'm not saying that I want to go to work and shout it from the rooftops, but it would be nice to be able to talk about past relationships without having to be careful to use gender-neutral pronouns.
I hate llamas.
I'm just kidding. I don't hate llamas.
I hate that I'm overweight and I am probably going to always be overweight, at least to some extent. I'm not obese; I'm not unhealthy. I have several extra pounds that really need to come off because my body does not need them. I love food, and I love wine and beer. I wish I were willing to make the sacrifices necessary to make my goal weight. I enjoy being active; I eat healthy foods. I just eat too much of them.
I hate that I have to double check my spelling of the word "necessary" every damn time I type it. I'm a phenomenal speller. I just have a fucking mental block with that word.
I hate that now that I've bragged about what a great speller I am, I am paranoid that I've misspelled something simple elsewhere in this post.

I love, however, that my list of things that I hate tonight is short, and that I felt like injecting some humor into it. I am an incredibly fortunate woman with a life that is better than I deserve. That makes up for the list of hates.

Wow. Just Wow.

2009-10-06T18:54:00.000-07:00

So, my good friend and fellow skeptic Lord Runolfr sent me this information in my comments via Fundies Say the Darndest Things:
We had been concerned about our much-loved dog being cared for when we
leave in the Rapture. Bailey was only seven and in good health when he just
upped and died on us the other morning. He died quickly and peacefully with the
family surrounding him, but when we started questioning why it happened (as we
all do, even though it all ends with "blessed be the name of the Lord"), we
remembered the rapture connection. Suddenly we felt like the rapture was going
to be very soon and God was sparing us the worry.

It just seems weird that we've been praying for Bailey to have a long
and healthy life and then he just drops dead!! Could be the devil just making us
miserable, but God could've spared him, so since we believe it's God's will that
he died, we don't want to get another dog. Hopefully and just maybe, we'll see
Bailey again someday!! But, hmmm, get ready everyone!!
Wow. Where do I start?

I'm going to focus mostly on the three big contradictions I see in this testimony.

Contradiction 1: Dog will be left behind in the rapture, but they expect to see him again someday.

So. Only the faithful followers of Jesus are going to be taken in the rapture. I get that; but I thought that the rapture-waiting fundamentalists believed that humans were the only creatures made in God's image, meaning we were the only ones who had a soul. How the hell do they expect to see their dead dog again? This truly baffles me. If they think he has a soul and is going to heaven, then why wouldn't he be taken in the rapture like all the other heaven-bound souls? And even if he doesn't qualify for rapture, why worry about his care? After he starves to death, his soul will be reunited with his loving human families, right? Or am I missing something?

I think this is a good example of how people just make shit up in their religion to make themselves feel better about a situation. The Catholics are real pros at this. They really like to mix shit up to increase their ~~profit margins~~ membership levels.

I'm probably missing something. I have heard so many different stories on what exactly the rapture is supposed to be, it's ridiculous. I know one group of people who think it's already happened. AUWTDA.

Contradiction 2: "...we've been praying for Bailey to have a long and healthy life and then he just drops dead!!" and "...when we started questioning why it happened (as we all do, even though it all ends with 'blessed be the name of the Lord')"

This goes back to my issue with prayer. These people were praying for their dog (who they claim was perfectly healthy, so why the daily prayers, anyway?), and when God does exactly the opposite of what they were praying for, they question for a moment, then jump straight to BLESSED BE THE NAME OF THE LORD!!1!1!! I have never understood this, not even when I was a christian. What good is prayer if you have to turn right around and kiss ass when it didn't do a fucksworth of good? Either God knows what is best for you and you need to just shut the fuck up, or your prayers are valid pleas that God takes into consideration and sometimes answers them, and sometimes takes them and tells you to shove them right up your ass. Seriously, people, you can't have it both ways.

Contradiction 3: "Could be the devil just making us miserable, but God could've spared him..."

I don't even know where to begin with this. It is so simple in its ludicrousness. Either the Devil has the power to make you miserable, or God has the power to stop him. If God "could've spared him," then it was not the Devil making you miserable, it was God. If this god is omnipotent, then he can STOP ANYTHING THAT IS NOT HIS WILL. That means the Devil can't do anything to make you miserable, honey. Unless he can. Which means God isn't all-powerful. Which means that your dog's death may not necessarily have been his plan. My head hurts.

Of course, if these people had only known about Eternal Earthbound Pets, they wouldn't have been worried about their dog's post-rapture status in the first place, and he'd still be alive. So basically they killed their dog with their ignorance. Way to go, dog killers.

Probably My Worst Post Ever

2009-10-03T17:55:00.000-07:00

I'm writing this post for two reasons. First, I see that I'm getting hits every day, sometimes from the same location, and I know how frustrating it is to go to a blog day after day and see the same damn post up there. So I thought you deserved an update, however horrible it may be.

I forgot the second reason.

Anyway, here it is. My totally uninspired, probably really poorly written post. Because I care and I love you. You're welcome.

I remember as a christian often wondering about Heaven. I knew that it was supposed to be this wonderful place that was going to be the eternal reward for our belief/faith/obedience; but I always had a hard time imagining what it actually was supposed to be like. I mean, Hell was described in no unclear terms. It would burn you with fire (Matt. 5:22; Matt. 18:9); that fire burned forever and nothing can put it out (Mark 9:43, 45); and not only was it fire, but a lake of fire (Rev. 20:14). That's all I needed to know.

I don't remember many biblical descriptions of Heaven, though. I remember something about milk and honey, and that sounded nice*, and streets of gold, which sounded kind of gaudy and impractical, but what else was there to know about Heaven? Funny that they didn't talk about that more in church.

So, I decided to look for myself and see what the Bible had to say about Heaven.

The first reference I found in the New Testament describing Heaven (the old testament uses the term "heaven" pretty much synonymously with "sky") was Matt. 6:20:

"But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth
corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal."

That's a good start. I hate it when my stuff rusts, and moths are annoying; and don't even get me started on thieves. I had my wallet stolen once and it was a total nightmare. If I could have found the asshole that stole my wallet, I would have punched him in the throat and set him on fire. Or her. I guess I don't have any real way of knowing.

The next few descriptions weren't so helpful.

Matt. 13:24:

"Another parable put he forth unto them, saying, The kingdom of heaven is
likened unto a man which sowed good seed in his field."

Matt. 13:31:

"Another parable put he forth unto them, saying, The kingdom of heaven is like
to a grain of mustard seed, which a man took, and sowed in his field."

Matt. 13:33:

"Another parable spake he unto them; The kingdom of heaven is like unto leaven,
which a woman took, and hid in three measures of meal, till the whole was
leavened."

It goes on like this for some time. I'm sure if I read the rest of the parables, it would all be clear. But who has time for that? I just want to know what we're supposed to do in heaven. So far, it looks like a lot of working in the garden and baking. Fuck, I have to do that shit here. I don't need it after I'm dead, too.

Then there's Matt. 19:14:

"But Jesus said, Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me:
for of such is the kingdom of heaven."

I hate kids. Well, except for mine. I like her, because she's awesome. Other kids can suck it, though. I don't need them running around screaming with flailing arms while I'm trying to keep from falling on my ass on the streets of gold and enjoy my milk and honey (a reference I have yet to find, by the way).

And oh my fucking Flying Spaghetti Monster, read Matt. 24:35:

"Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away."

Heaven is going to pass away? WTF?

So I kept looking. I found a lot more weird parable things that liken the kingdom of heaven to this and that, but I wanted to learn more about what it was going to be like there.

Then I noticed that the milk and honey reference was in the Old Testament, and not even talking about heaven at all. It was talking about the promised land.

Deuteronomy 26:15:

"Look down from thy holy habitation, from heaven, and bless thy people Israel,
and the land which thou hast given us, as thou swarest unto our fathers, a land
that floweth with milk and honey."

Well fuck.

Then I finally came across where the gold streets were mentioned. It mentions the pearl gates, too. I had forgotten all about that part.

Revelation 21:21:

"And the twelve gates [were] twelve pearls; every several gate was of one pearl:
and the street of the city [was] pure gold, as it were transparent glass."

But that's in Revelation, which no one understands what the fuck it's about, and so everyone says it's all metaphor. So, yeah. Probably no gold streets, either.

So, basically what I gathered from my research is that I'm not really going to be missing out on a lot by not going to heaven. That lake of fire is sure going to suck, though.

*Actually, thanks to some information I received from a fellow atheist in our group regarding acceptable quantities of blood and pus, milk doesn't sound all that great to me anymore. But the milk in heaven would be pure and clean milk. Probably.

Divine Justice?

2009-08-27T20:02:00.000-07:00

Hemant Mehta at The Friendly Atheist published this post today. It is regarding a statement made by Scottish Justice Secretary Kenny MacAskill regarding Abdelbaset Ali al-Megrahi, the Lockerbie bomber who has recently been released from prison because he has prostate cancer and is not expected to live long.

Here is the controversial statement [emphasis mine]:

Scotland will forever remember the crime that has been perpetrated against
our people and those from many other lands. The pain and suffering will remain
forever. Some hurt can never heal. Some scars can never fade. Those who have
been bereaved cannot be expected to forget, let alone forgive.

Mr Al-Megrahi now faces a sentence imposed by a higher power. It is one
that no court, in any jurisdiction, in any land, could revoke or overrule. It is
terminal, final and irrevocable. He is going to die.

So, is this just another I'm-a-theist-and-I-assume-you-are-too statement aimed at those who give their god credit for all, and ignoring those who do not relate to it? Or is it something worse? Is this statement benign, or is it deeply disrespectful?

I'm going to have to go with disrespectful. Implying that al-Megrahi's disease is some sort of punishment for his crimes disturbs me for a few reasons.

First, what about all the people currently and throughout history who have committed crimes that were as heinous or even more heinous than those of al-Megrahi, who have gone on to live long, healthy lives? Where is the divine justice there? Are the families and loved ones of the victims of these unpunished crimes to believe that God did not see fit to punish the guilty person? Nice.

Second, there are a staggering number of moral, productive, upstanding members of society who are stricken with terminal disease every day. They are given the same "death sentence" as al-Megrahi. Does this imply that these people are dealt this illness and suffering as a result of some divine justice that is beyond our comprehension? After all, God works in mysterious ways... What a horrible idea to impose upon the families and loved ones of the terminally ill!

I understand the spirit of what MacAskill was trying to say; he was expressing that the man is going to suffer and die, his suffering is not something the judicial system imposed upon him, and it will not make a great deal of difference whether he does this suffering in a prison or at home. I get that.

MacAskill's choice of words was poor, though. It was not simply a metaphor to be glossed over. In my opinion, it was potentially hurtful to a lot of people who are already hurting over undeserved and unbearable circumstances.

Powerful people should choose their words wisely.

My Beliefs Should Make You Happy!

2009-08-26T17:33:00.000-07:00

So. My daughter, her best friend, and I were at a hibachi-type restaraunt recently. The man sitting directly across from us had on a motorcyclists-for-Jesus type tee shirt. Awesome.

The table was full. There was Jesus motorcycle guy, a family of a husband and wife and two little girls (toddlers), and the three in my party. Jesus motorcycle guy (let's call him JMG) asked whether everyone was local or from out of town. The other family was local; we were traveling.

I have a point. Be patient.

The next question JMG asked was where the family next to him went to church. Not whether they went to church; where they went to church. Of course, as the odds would have it, they belonged to a big local church and so that was cool with JMG. I started to sweat. "Oh, dear fuck. I hope he doesn't ask us about church" kept going through my head over and over and over. I am not one for public debate, but I'm also not a liar. So if he asked, I was screwed.

He didn't ask. What he did ask was where my "other half" is. He assumed, since I'm eating with two preteen girls, I must be married.

Well, I am married, but I'm in the process of a divorce. Kind of. It's complicated. But I had an out.

I told him that he was on his way to Iraq. Which is true. JMG immediately asked for his name and said that he would pray for him, and that he would put him on their church's prayer list.

*sigh*

Well, 1) I'm a wimp and I hate confrontation, and 2) my husband/soon ex husband is a christian, so I suppose he would be happy that he's on the prayer list of a group of total strangers. So I just say thank you.

Then, JMG starts talking about his motorcycle evangelist group and how they are mostly veterans. I just really want him to stop. Please, just stop.

I nod politely. I thank him for his service to our country. I don't mention that I don't believe in prayer, Jesus, or his (or any) god. My daughter and her friend are just as sweet as they can be, and don't say anything either (they are both nonbelievers as well).

So, as we left, we were all three just very happy to be out of there.

So. What if I had been the vocal one? What if I had openly discussed how proud I am to be an atheist, and how the atheists in the military suffer gross discrimination, and what a wonderful thing science is and how much it has improved our daily life, and how ignorant and damaging it is for people to deny science and try to defer its progress because of silly superstitions and ancient books filled with vile stories and gross inconsistencies? All of those things are true; all of those things are valid. Would I have been treated with as much respect?

I can tell you. NO. No, I would not. And that makes me angry. It does not make me angry enough (yet) to cause a scene during my vacation; but it does make me very, very angry.

I'm sure many of you have read Greta Christina's blog post on why atheists are angry, but I am just now starting to get it. Really get it.

Big Deal? No. Not Really.

2009-08-18T18:56:00.000-07:00

So. A couple of nights ago, I did something that I expected to be very difficult. I told my daughter that I'm bisexual.

Now, let me explain that I know that my daughter is not a homophobe; her best friend is the daughter of lesbian parents. She has argued the rights of homosexuals for years. She has a gay uncle who is awesome and she loves him and his partner very much. So I knew she wouldn't have a problem with the fact itself.

But she is 13. My fear was that she would be upset that I had "hidden" it from her for so many years. The truth is, there was just no good time to tell her. I mean, I've only been with men since she's been alive (her father, and then her stepfather). When exactly is a good time to say, "oh, by the way, sweetie, I am also attracted to women and had girlfriends before you were born."?

Yeah. I'm thinking that a daughter just doesn't want to hear about any of that. Kids just don't like thinking about their parents having sex with anybody. It's icky.

But, the conversation came up because we were casually talking about a friend of mine who is bisexual. I'm not sure how it wrapped around to including me, but it was very comfortable and natural, and she didn't feel like I had been hiding anything from her at all. She understood that it just isn't something that I would blurt out to her randomly. It is about my sex life, after all, which isn't something I talk about to her a lot. Because, you know. It's icky.

She and I do talk about sex in general, because I want her to know that I am here for her when she needs to talk to someone. She knows that I want her to wait until she is older before she starts having sex. She knows the reasons (emotional risks, disease risks, pregnancy risks...you know; real reasons. Not just "God said not to" which was all I was given as a kid). She also knows that I understand that sex is a normal, natural thing, and that her body will scream at her to start doing it before it is the best and safest time. I want her to know that she can talk to me about that without risk, and without judgement. I've been there. I understand. Yeah, sex involving your parents is icky. But sex in general is not. It's normal, natural, and awesome.

So, I guess the point of this post is that I have an awesome daughter. I am very, very fortunate and I am grateful every minute of every day for her. And also that I'm bisexual.

Hope that didn't freak anybody out.

Fear

2009-08-11T14:04:00.000-07:00

I have a friend who has been my best and dearest friend since infancy. I will refer to her here as S. She is and always has been a devout christian, and for most of our lives, I was, too. I have only been really, comfortably an atheist for about a year; skeptical for about three.

S and I could not be closer if we were sisters. That sounds cliche, but it is the honest truth. She and I have been through the worst of pain together, and the most wonderful joys together. If I had to name the most important people in my life, S would be very, very close to the top. Right there with my mother and my daughter. S and I share everything with each other; she knows everything about me, good and bad.

Except for the fact that I am now an atheist.

I have not told her about my atheism. She knows that I am very scientific and skeptical; she laughs when people tell stories about ghosts and superstitions around me, and proudly tells them that I'm very science-thinking and I don't believe in things like that. So it should be a breeze to tell her that I've taken the final rational step and stopped believing in the ultimate superstition, right?

No.

I was once an enthusiastic christian like S. I could not imagine not believing in God. It seemed impossible and ridiculous. It wasn't superstition; it was TRUTH. This is how she feels. This is how she assumes that I feel.

So.

S and I take our daughters on an overnight camping trip every year. It is awesome. We slather ourselves in SPF 5000+ with a topcoat of bug repellant, light a fire, and roast things that are full of sugar and fat. Then we put up our tent, hike, sit and talk, watch my daughter read to her (much younger) daughter, and just enjoy being together. I look forward to it every year.

This morning, S called me and enthusiastically asked me if my daughter and I would want to do our camp out at Godstock this year.

Yes. Godstock is EXACTLY what it sounds like. Praise & worship christianity's version of Woodstock, but with no sex or drugs.

Shit.

I told her that I might have something going on that weekend, and I'd have to check my calendar (I may actually really have something; I wasn't lying about that). I was glad I had an out; but what happens next time? When she wants us to come to her charismatic church? When she wants me to come to a women's retreat with her? When she wants me to take the 'Encountering Jesus' session with her? What am I to do then?

I have to tell her the truth. And that is going to hurt.

There is a fantastic blog post at The Friendly Atheist today dealing with issues just like this. I read it, and it has given me a little hope that this can work out, and things will be okay in the end; but I really dread the initial struggle.

I guess all I can do is hope for the best, and prepare for the worst. But if there is anyone in the world who will still love me, despite huge worldview differences, it is S.

UPDATED 11/11/09: Well, S and I had the conversation tonight. She was so totally cool about it; I am ashamed of ever being concerned in the first place.

I know that she is concerned. I know that we will have many conversations about this. But she is awesome. We love each other. That is never going to change, no matter what.

I love you, S.

Big Step

2009-08-07T16:35:00.000-07:00

So. Last Tuesday, I went to my first atheist group meeting. It was a happy hour at a really cute little bar, and I had a great time. I met several fantastic people, and the conversation was awesome. Usually there were two or three really cool conversations going on at the same time, and it was a little frustrating that I couldn't keep up with them all at once!

I remember being a christian, and listening to my ex husband talk about the atheist group he had joined. I remember wondering what atheists do at meetings. I just couldn't imagine; did they just sit around and talk about how they didn't believe in God? How could that be stimulating?

Of course, now I realize how stupid that was. It was like wondering whether christians just sat around all the time talking about Jesus (which they do a lot). Obviously, even the most fundamentalist evangelical has interests outside of his faith.

I'm really ashamed now of how I used to view people without faith, and I honestly wonder how I could have ever felt that way. It seems so ridiculous now; but honestly, when christianity is driven deep, deep into your psyche from the time you are a small child (a baby, really), it really seems like it is the truth, and you just can't imagine believing anything different. Anything different is absurd.

I digress; this post was supposed to be about the atheist group.

The biggest thing I came away with from the group is how easy it is to talk to reasonable people. Even if I said something totally boneheaded (which can be quite often), no one jumped on me to attack; no one said anything to make me feel stupid. The harshest thing I heard all night was, "Hm. I don't think I can quite buy that, just because you said you were certain..."

Ouch. What cutting words. ()

Everyone was open to debate; everyone was open to discussion; everyone was interested in the stories of others. It was like spending two hours with the friendliest people on Earth.

Those damn, godless atheists.

I know that the new will wear off, and I'll stop being so amazed at how great the meetings are. But right now, it is just so nice to spend time with a group of people who are thinkers; who are skeptics; who are willing to learn from others who have a different point of view. Those things are all the total opposite of all the people I knew as a christian.

Sad and New

2009-06-01T09:14:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I attended funeral home visitation for a friend who passed away on Saturday. It was my first loss of this nature since becoming an atheist. It was a very different experience for me, and besides being very painful and sad, it made me reflect on a few things.

First of all, it made me realize just how strongly I used to believe in God and the afterlife. Yesterday, that belief was noticeably absent, and its absence had a strong effect on my emotions. I realized that my friend was gone; not waiting for me in Heaven, not finally reunited with his father and his grandfather. Gone. It hurt a lot. I remembered what it was like to have that small solace in saying “He’s in a better place” or “We’ll see him again someday.” Although those things did not take away the pain of missing a departed loved one, they did offer some comfort, however fantastical.

It made me realize that I will always be, for the most part, silent about my atheism. The time I spent with his family and friends at the funeral home was a combination of sadness over missing him and happiness over remembering his life. We all reflected on what a wonderful man he was. We laughed about joys remembered, and we cried about the years ahead without him. I cried for his mother, his sister, his wife, his daughter, and his son, whom he left behind, and who loved him very, very much. Their pain just rips me up inside. There is no way I am going to tell them that I do not believe, as they do, that he is in Heaven. Just because I no longer believe it doesn’t mean I have to take that comfort from others. Some may disagree with me on this point; I assure you that I give less than a fuck whether you disagree. I don’t tell small children that there is no Santa Claus, either.

It also made me stop to think of how precious life is, and how very important it is to take care of ourselves while we have it. My friend who died was only 53 years old. Cancer is a beast that doesn’t give a shit whether you’ve had time to live a full life, or how much your wife loves you, or whether you get to see your grandbaby born in just a few months (Yeah. That completely breaks my heart. He was so close to seeing his beautiful daughter have her baby). Get your cancer screenings, folks. Take advantage of the wonderful thing we have called medical science, and catch it early. Early means before you feel sick. Check everything on schedule.

Finally, I realized that as an atheist, I feel much, much more connected to my fellow human beings. Many religious people would expect that to be just the opposite, I know, but I truly feel a love and a desire for the well-being of others that I never had before. Not this strongly, anyway. I suppose that could be a result of my new world view, or it could possibly be that I’m just getting sappier and soft as I get older. Either way, it’s nice.

Love on someone who is important to you today.

Random 7

2009-04-14T20:31:00.000-07:00

1. This is a random posting of a captioned photograph from http://icanhascheezburger.com/. I found it very amusing. It is so true; and I can think of so many human metaphors for this idea. But I'm not feeling deep tonight.

2. I am currently in a situation where it is practically impossible for me to have sex. I'm not going into details tonight, except to say that I might have to stop going to spinning class for the time being. The bicycle seat is becoming...distracting.

3. Beer makes me happy.

4. Sex would make me happier.

5. I am trying to figure out what exactly it is that has me so intrigued with the TV show House. It's an awesome show; but I am rarely drawn in the way I am with this one.

6. I am more intrigued with the show LOST; but I understand completely why I love it so much.

7. I'm looking forward to painting my kitchen this weekend.

Real post coming up soon; I just like to throw in a Random 7 every once in a while.

The Power of Prayer

2009-04-13T19:00:00.000-07:00

I may be accused of baiting for Christian readers with that post title; but it is legitimately what this post is about.

Disclaimer to Christian readers: it is not my intent to offend you, but I have some very strong emotions and opinions regarding this subject. It makes me say fuck a lot. So if the word fuck bothers you, you may want to stop reading now. You've already seen it twice, and I assure you it will appear again. Several times. The word shit, too. (I told you to stop reading...)

My first husband was/is an atheist. He and I had many, many discussions and disagreements about the existence and sovereignty of God. His reason and logic were excellent, and a fair call of the debate would always judge him as the winner; but discussions with him never caused me to question the existence of God, or his absolute omniscience.

No. The first thing that ever caused me to question God was the true story of a little girl who had a terrible illness. I don't remember the details anymore. What I remember is that the little girl was in the hospital, and several doctors were working day and night to diagnose and try to find a cure for her before it was too late. The little girl's family issued a plea for everyone to pray for the child to be healed; for God's mercy and loving healing.

The doctors figured out what was wrong, administered the proper treatments, and the girl got better. Do you know where the family gave the credit for the healing? I'll bet you can guess.

They thanked all the people who prayed. Without those prayers, they were convinced that their daughter would have died.

What. The. Fuck.

So. You are telling me that God imposed a life threatening illness upon an innocent little girl, and would have let her die, except that lots of people begged him not to? And if enough people had not begged him to spare her, then too fucking bad! You guys are not groveling enough! The child dies!

Dude. Fuck that shit.

Honestly. Does that even make any sense, when you think about it? I remember always being told to pray for what I wanted/needed, but then add "but your will be done." I guess so God didn't think I was barking orders at him or something. I can understand that; I don't like people barking orders at me, either. But seriously, what good does it do to pray if you can't even say "I really want this; even if it wasn't what you originally intended?" What good is prayer at all, if this God of yours is going to do whateverthefuck he wanted to do in the first place? And how loving and gracious is this God if the single prayer of a frightened mother isn't enough to save her child? What kind of sadistic maniac requires a megachurchfull of people begging for the life of one little girl? WHAT KIND OF GOD KILLS LITTLE GIRLS IN THE FIRST PLACE?

FUCK.

I know what you are going to say. "We are God's children. Do you give your child everything she asks for?"

The first thing I will say to you is don't end a sentence with a preposition.

The next thing I will say to you is no, of course I don't. Sometimes I can't (an excuse God can't use, right?), and sometimes she wants something that is not good for her. Either way, I always take the time to explain to her why I can't or won't let her have what she wants. If she doesn't understand, then I try to explain it another way. If she still doesn't understand, I lock her in the cellar.

I kid. I haven't locked her in the cellar since we had to replace the door from all the clawing damage.

JESUS, PEOPLE! CALM DOWN! IT'S A JOKE! I DON'T EVEN HAVE A CELLAR!

Seriously, though. Even if I did lock her in the cellar, it's still not as bad as being cast into a lake of fire to burn for all eternity. Which is what we get if we piss off God.

But he loves us.

UPDATE: The difference in opinion regarding the existence of God was not what broke up my first marriage. Just so you know.

ANOTHER UPDATE: If I did have a cellar, I would keep wine in it. Not kids.

Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends; we're so glad you could attend, come inside, come inside...

2009-04-09T20:40:00.000-07:00

I'm not starting this blog with an explanation of what this blog is about; because this blog is about whatever is on my mind at the time of my writing. This blog will be about atheism. It will be about sexuality. It will be about family. It will be about funny shit that happened on the way to the gynecologist's office. Just whatever.

Okay, so I lied. I did start the blog with an explanation of what the blog is about. But not really; because it was by no means comprehensive. So there.

I have recently come to terms with two very big things.

There is probably no God; and

I'm okay with that.

A year ago I would have never admitted that I had doubts about God's existence. Oh, the doubts have been there for much more than a year; but a human who needs comfort and solace can cling fiercely to denial. See, my dad died when I was 10 years old. I needed to believe I would see him again. In heaven. But now I wonder whether I really needed to believe that, or if I only clung to that hope because I was taught to do so.

Rather than go into a manifesto about how I came to disbelieve (don't worry; I'm sure that will come later), tonight I want to write about an incident that happened to me yesterday.

My 12 year old daughter (also atheist) and I were returning from a trip to the grocery, and I needed to make a stop at the liquor store to pick up a bottle of wine for dinner. It started to rain pretty hard for a while, but slacked off as we pulled into the parking lot. As I turned off the car, I glanced out the windsheild to see an obviously injured, soaking wet little gray mouse, hobbling and struggling to get off the pavement, onto the grassy median beside the parking space. It was heartbreaking to watch him climb the little concrete slope, only to slide backward because he had no use of one of his back legs. My daughter asked if we should help him, and I told her that there was really nothing we could do; even if he got onto the grass, that leg of his was not going to heal. She decided to wait in the car and listen to her iPod while I ran in and quickly picked up the wine.

When I returned to the car, there was an SUV parked in front of me. I could tell by the look on my daughter's face what had happened.

I asked her whether what I thought had happened, had happened. She said yes, with a tear rolling down her cheek. I explained to her that it was really for the best; that the little mouse was not going to get any better. He was going to be in pain and struggling until a predatory bird, or a cat, or some other carnivorous animal got him. Or else he would starve to death, because he could not move around well enough to get food. Being hit by the SUV was the quickest, most humane death the little guy could have asked for. Now he isn't in pain anymore.

My point here is that I did not have to make up a story about the mouse being in mousey heaven, or in "a better place," or "with Jesus" to give my child some comfort about the situation. Sure, she was still sad about the mouse getting squished, but she was able to accept that it is part of the life cycle; it is the way the world works. And she accepted it within the bounds of reality; not based on some superstition that she would later grow to doubt and feel deceived about.

I have now accepted the idea that I will never see my father again. He is not waiting in heaven for me. He is gone. All I have are my memories, which are wonderful and beautiful. He was a funny, talented, brilliant, kind, loving man. And that will have to be enough.