Monday, 30 November 2009

The Christian News Wire; And Its Ignorant Readers:

A few months ago, a young friend of mine asks me why Christians spend so much time contemplating over made-up issues; like Obama care, and death panels, etc. He subscribes to the Christian News wire, and trolls Christian blogs. He was trying to understand why most Christians waste so much of their time blogging, and debating about nonissues, and made-up bullshit (like there already isn’t enough real thing’s in the world to worry about). One of the issues he was having a hard time understanding was their attitude on abortions, and why their concern over this matter, ended at birth. And with all of the children in the world, which are already being neglected, and starving to death; why do they only seem to care about the unborn, and taking away the rights of a woman to choose, if and when she starts a family?

I’ve also been a subscriber of the Christian “news” wire for over a year now. And most of what I’ve read there is totally deceptive at best; most of the bullshit is just outright lies. Then there’s the other 20% or so, which just boggles the mind.

I would encourage anyone who hasn’t visited this site to do so; the stories posted there give a good look into what feeds the deluded Christian mind. I often wonder how many of their readers, actually believe the “pro-life” organizations; they so proudly “report” on, are really trying to end legal-abortions. Take for example the Susan B. Anthony List Education Fund (501(c). A tax exempt organization, which raises millions each year, fundraising on “pro-life” issues, then uses its funds illegally, in campaigning against “'pro-choice” candidates. It’s really sad when you think about it, how these organizations use these ignorant people, falsely projecting such emotional issues as viably living babies, dying in abortion clinics. The fact is the reason Christians distort real issues, and manufacture others; things would be pretty boring, if all they had to do in life was sit around, and wait for Jesus to return – no they really don’t care about babies, unborn or otherwise. It’s all about the sheep-herders lining their pockets with cash. And the ignorant Christian sheep who follow…..just enjoy making everyone else’s lives, just as miserable as theirs.

Is there any better answer for this kid?

Sunday, 22 November 2009

Why I Am an Atheist

This is a response to Vjack’s post.

I am atheist in part because of the way my brain was wired before birth. Being born dyslectic; (my little “gift,” from fucking “god”) I struggled for many years before I was ably to master language. Reading and writing was another challenge. In my perception of written text, there’s a 3ed dimension, one of depth. The corner of the letters rises up from the page, and sometime totally reverses; (this is why, most folks with dyslexia reverse text letters, when writing). One can only learn to overcome this, through critical thought, and reasoning. My world is one of either-or, true-false, off-on, and so on. Albert Einstein fully exploited this condition, which also allows one to do math both forwards and backwards; and because of this perceived added dimension, he was able to both visualize and conceptualize, both space and time, and even model the structure of atoms in his mind.

Belief in god(s) and religion requires one to totally discard logical thought; and replace logic and reasoning with blind faith, superstition, and ignorance. As a consequence of my little “gift” from “god,” I apply this same level of reasoning, and critical thought, to everything else in my life. If I even started to entertain the truth of a woman being created from a man’s rib, or a baby jesus being born of a virgin, or a “god,” who plays more fucking games with his subjects, than a Las Vegas blackjack dealer; (I would have to totally discard everything ,I’ve learned through math and science about the real world) my whole word would quickly fall a part, and the next day, I’d probably be sporting a Palin for president bumper-sticker, on my car.


Friday, 13 November 2009

I tell myself I really don't care...

[This is a re-post from one of my other blogs. -Larro]

...about some of my family on my mom's side of late but I feel I have to get some thing's off my chest. It's quite likely some of them will be reading this post (and that's the part I really don't care about).

My grandmother recently passed away at a ripe, long-lived age of 85. She was a pillar of our family and had experienced many a trial and tribulation along the way. She was a victim of domestic abuse and buried one of her sons. In her later years one of my aunts moved in with her. Initially my grandmother was in fair health at that time and one could describe their ongoing relationship as doting from my grandmother and needy from my aunt (you'd think it would be the other way around). But as my grandmother's health waned one would think that these roles would have shifted...fat chance. I'll describe an incident that happened at the hospital as my grandmother was in critical care. My aunt, while in the waiting room, was relating that my grandmother had left some tidbits of food lying at her computer desk in small bowls and was getting disgusted at the smell emanating from my grandmother's room in the few days my grandmother had been in hospital. Guess what? Clean the fucking shit up!

To add to this story; my grandmother signed off her house to my aunt at some point after her moving in. And my grandmother was paying $100 in rent IN HER OWN HOUSE! I can't blame her for wanting to help with living expenses and not wanting to be a free-loader but if I were in that position (as my aunt) that money would have gone to pay for her funeral arrangements (which none were made). Maybe I could fault my grandmother for leaving the family with the responsibility of taking care of everything after her dying but I wasn't the one charged with taking care of her wishes after her death. Who was? I haven't a clue.

I loved my grandmother and the only thing that kept me from visiting her on a regular basis was the presence of my aunt at that house. Harsh? Selfish? Maybe. Maybe I could have just totally overlooked that living arrangement with my grandmother confined largely to her own bedroom and my aunt a permanent fixture in her easy-chair. Do I feel derision? Sure. Was I concerned and unhappy with that arrangement? You bet. Yet, I am one among many of my grandmothers grandchildren (thirty plus).

What place have I to intervene? My grandmother was not senile nor having dementia. She was in her right mind right up until the end of her life and in everyway leading up to it. So I can't help but assume that her living arrangement with my aunt (and her husband; I forgot to mention that part) was acceptable.

Mentioning my aunt's husband...

To be honest I initially didn't want to go to her funeral but my respects were due. Why didn't I want to go? It was largely to do with any number of circumstances but the primary reason was her particular church that the ENTIRETY of the service was being held (with no remains present). I know this is not unusual in the least; to have your funeral service held at the church you attended but as I came to realize I probably should have just stayed home or better yet celebrated my grandmother's life with my own mother and immediate family. The service turned out largely to do with sermonizing and least to do about my grandmother. To be honest I didn't expect anything less. Sure, there were tidbits thrown in here and there mentioning my grandmother and her life experiences and some quips about certain comical circumstances that occurred in her life (that everybody there had a heartfelt chuckle at) but it seemed to me that the vast majority of the service was spent extolling the church. It's quite likely that she may have (or did) envision her funeral service in this way (which is very likely). Can I fault that? No.

Back to mentioning my aunt's the end of the service there was a luncheon arranged there at the church but my immediate family didn't want to stick around for that (I didn't). We had decided that we might go out for our own lunch at a restaurant. After we'd left, my aunt's husband, apparently, walked up to my other aunt and stated: "'They' are gone...laughed through the whole service". Uh...who are "they"? Those "black sheep"? Quite likely "they" are them atheists (which we are with some agnostics). Maybe he just meant "they" as being my mom and her family. But I have a hard time agreeing with that.

Laughing? Laughing at my own grandmothers funeral!?!? What!?!? As if my own grandmothers death was a complete joke?


Beyond the pale! Beyond any kind of respect I want to show to that kind of person.

Lying. Bald-face lies. We did NOT show any sort of disrespect that that lie connotated. Would any deserving Christian bring themselves to lie in this way? Apparently HE did. And would any deserving Christian BELIEVE it? If they do then I can not call them family nor friend.

The vast majority of my family know that "we" are atheist (and agnostic) largely knowing that my mother is a semi-out atheist. I may be looking too deeply into the motivations behind this lie but I must say that there were certain instances that got me wondering. During one particular segment of the service the pastor asked that everybody bow their head in prayer and that once the prayer was finished had asked that everybody (without raising their head) raise their hand if this was the first time they had uttered this prayer; to which he could look around and see who had raised their hand. Guess who hadn't had their head bowed? Atheists don't pray (that's a given). So what! If this was indeed a way to see who wasn't praying (and I'm not saying that it was) then who cares? "We" were there at that church service honoring my grandmother's funeral like every other family member.

But I must get back to this lie. Under any other circumstance I could really care less. But this was my grandmother's funeral and I was accused of laughing throughout as if the whole thing was a joke. I'm taking this quite personal and philosophical. During the service there was quite a bit about "evangelizing" and getting a new member to join the church in my grandmother's take her place in the church. Yet, how on earth did my aunt's husband (and by extension my extended family and their church) seem inviting by lying (and possibly accepting this lie) about such an occurence? What a way to win over converts!?!

It is absolutely, ABSOLUTELY, no wonder I am an atheist.

Wednesday, 4 November 2009


This is sort of a response to Vjack’ s post yesterday over at:

Atheist Revolution

When I was in my mid-teens, I started dating a black “Christian” girl, who was a year older than me. I had fallen head over heels for this cute little black sassy thing. It was love at first sight, I would guess. The day I met her, the first questions she ask me was how old am I, and which church I attended. I answered 15 to the first, and none to the second. She replied: “you don’t go to church; what kind of nigger are you – you’re just like all of the other high-yellow niggers; you think you’re too good to go to church, don’t you?” I simply replied: I just don’t do the church thing. She then said: “Maybe I’ll just have to kidnap you, and take you with me to my church.” As the weeks went by; we had developed a great relationship. She would call me on the phone at about 11 o’clock in the evening most every night. And I would pick her up on my motorcycle on the corner by her house. This went for months before her father finally caught her, creeping out of the house at night to meet me. Later that night, after our failed rendezvous; she called me about 1am. She said after her dad had caught her sneaking out the back door; he then told her, he’d know she had been doing this for months. And he only wanted to meet her mystery boyfriend, and see who she was sleeping with; and meet the father, of his future grandbabies.

I wasn’t much up for meeting this family of black church folks. Over the next 3 weeks, I was invited to her house about 10 or more times. I always managed to find some excuses or another; until one Saturday night, her dad called me himself and invited me to go to church with him, and the rest of family. He said; after which, we would return back to his house for Sunday dinner. He said: come by the house, at 8am the next day, so I could ride with them to church, and we could talk on the way (I thought, 8am on a Sunday morning; this guy’s got to be out of his fucking mind!) I told him I had to help my dad that next morning, but I would stop by that evening for dinner.

I awoke about 11:30am that next morning, and asking myself just what the fuck, I had gotten myself into. I spent the next 3 hours, psyching myself up for this date with her family. I arrived at the house about 4pm that evening; and was met at the door by my girlfriend. Who gave me a big huge and a kiss, (not knowing it would be my last) she then escorted me into kitchen where her kinfolks were all gathered around cooking dinner, and all talking about what happened at church that day. As she seated me at the table, directly across from her father; as I was being seated, I couldn’t help but notice, all the good smells of the food that they were cooking on the stove, and including the sounds of chicken frying in the skillet.

The room was so noisy; I could hardly make out anything that they were saying. I couldn’t even hear my own self think. About this time, a crusty old looking woman yelled out, “Did you see how that skank-bitch was dressed today at church, and how she was looking at pastor? I just know, that little whore don’t think pastor wants to fuck her?” they all seemed to be talking bad about the folks, they were all just at church with (I thought to myself; what a lovely Christian family). About that same time, another old crusty fat wench, walked over to the table, and looks at me and said, “So this is the boy you’ve been fucking? He looks like a little half-white bitch to me!”

As she finally introduced me to her dad; it felt to me like I’d been setting there for hours, but it had only been a minute or so. Her dad said: so you’re the one who’s been dating my daughter. The next question was; what church do you go to boy? For some reason, I couldn’t get myself to make eye contact with this heathen; so I simply looked at the floor and said: I don’t do the church thing. As the room got a little quieter, and as he reached across the table, and as he grasp both of my arms with his sweaty hands; he looked me in the face and said in a soft voice: son, don’t you know Jesus loves you, and he died for you? As I sat there in almost a state of shock; and feeling both mentally molested and violated. I told him: I just don’t believe all that stuff, and I’m an atheist.

At that moment, a deafening silence fell over the whole room – for a few moments, no one said a word. I even thought the chicken, which was cooking on top of the stove, had stopped sizzling in the skillet, and was somehow listening too. About this time, when you could have heard the sound of one hand clapping; her father looked at me and said: you’re a what? You’re a goddamned ATHEIST? YOU GET YOUR DEVIL WORSHIPING ASS THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE! Then the crusty old wench said to the girl: “you keep fucking him; you’ll give birth to the devil himself!” Then as her dad got up from the table and left the room; I started making my way to the front door. Her dad stepped in front of me, before I made it to the door, and pointed a shotgun in my face and said: “if I ever, even hear about you even talking to my daughter again, I’ll send your ass to hell, so you can be with your father Satan - you little devil worshiping bitch.”

Needless to say, she and I weren’t on good terms after that. Some good things came out of this however; from that day forward, when I was asked about my beliefs, or what church I attended. I never sidestepped the issue again.

The next time I seen my ex-girlfriend, was about ten years later. She was now a mother, and had given birth to 4 children, and now weighed more than 300 pounds, and was big fat and ugly. After seeing her, I had one of those theists’ moments; I look toward the sky, and raised my hands in the air, and said: THANK GOD IT WASN’T ME!