"Why Do You Hate God?"

I have not been asked this question, yet, but I am sure sooner or later it will be. I will grant it’s a perfectly natural assumption for True Believers to think that I must not not believe in God, but instead have some personal grievance with Him/Her/It that causes me to deny. I’m sure they must picture the typical atheist to be somewhat like a small child hearing from his or her peers for the first time that Santa Claus does not exist, and the only reaction possible is to clamp the hands over the ears and scream: “No! No! No! It’s not true! I don’t believe you!”

Sorry, folks: it’s just not that simple.

The only answer I, or any other atheist who arrived to the same conclusion I did through reason and careful thinking, can give is: I cannot hate that which does not exist.

I do not hate Santa Clause. Neither do I hate the Easter Bunny. I also harbor no ill will towards leprechauns, unicorns or David Icke’s Illuminati-based shapeshifting reptile overlords. I have no feelings of spite or anger for Zeus or Hercules. I do not plot any retribution towards Quetzalcoatl or the pantheon of Valhalla.

Just so, I do not hate God because the burden of evidence shows, as it does with all the mythical beings and creatures I mention above, such a being is simply not there.

Now, this is not to say I did not hate God at a certain point in my life. I did. Greatly. I had a rather difficult childhood (my wife would say I’m downplaying this a great deal), and while it was not safe for me while young to express my anger - and other feelings - towards those that made growing up such a traumatic experience for me and my sisters, there was one thing I could safely direct my ill feelings towards. Something my Catholic upbringing drummed into my head must exist and was ultimately the cause of all things: God.

But I was not an atheist then, either. Once I came to the realization that there is no Supreme Being, the anger and hatred left me. What it was replaced with was a burning desire to hold those who hurt me and my sisters accountable for their actions (and inactions).

You see, when there is no God, suddenly everyone is responsible for their own actions and the consequences of those actions. It is, frankly, liberating and unsettling all at once. It frees one from fear of divine retribution, but it also makes one realize it’s harder to justify horrible acts against others when there is no Judge Supreme dictating who is deserving of reward or punishment. One can no longer sit back and “just accept” one’s lot in life. One must take control while considering others. Under those circumstances, 9/11 was performed by a bunch of delusional modern-day kamikazes, Fred Phelps is an emotionally stunted old man screaming for attention like a tantrum-throwing toddler, and Barack Obama’s sudden promise to dump more money into faith-based programs is just an obvious ploy to get votes. (Don’t believe me on that one? Then watch this video of a speech he gave some years back… he’s maturing into a true politician, which is sad.)

So to any Christian reading this who is still wondering why I hate God, I’ll throw the same concept back at you: why do you hate Allah?

Yeah. Thought so.

Hitchens: God Is Not Great

I finished "God Is Not Great" by Christopher Hitchens (who was also one of the presenters at last October's Freedom From Religion Foundation convention).

Here's a good idea of what this man is all about (from Canada's "The Hour" news program). I agree with what he says, but I'm hesitant about his intolerance.

Very well said!

This editorial is worth reading. It crystalizes the importance of protecting the First Amendment, a shining jewel in the crown that is the Constitution of the United States of America.

Anyone who says there is "no such thing in the Constitution" as separation of Church and State has never tried to understand the language used in the the Establishment Clause.

Look up the meaning of the word "establishment" as it was used at the time of the Constitution's authoring, and you'll see what I mean.

The light grew dimmer, this month...

For all those believing I'm a paranoid lunatic, raving in the night, read this.

I'm sure you won't remember me when you decide to pack up the kids and haul ass to Canada, should this continue.

There was no Santa & kudos (of a sort) to CBS news

I have not been sleeping terribly, lately, and woke up at about 1:15 this morning. I already knew it was going to be a while before I went back to sleep, so I decided to make the most of it by catching a really cheesy movie on TV.

I've already mentioned my love of Svengoolie in a previous post. According to Sven's Dec. 22nd post, anyone staying up until 1:00am would be treated to "Santa Claus Conquers the Martians." Anyone who loves bad film is probably well acquainted with this cinematic crime against humanity. This film is so bad that it is the only movie I am aware of my father ever walking out on. And my father will sit through anything. It's also notable for being Pia Zadora's first movie, as well. (If you don't know or remember Pia Zadora, don't weep. It's no great loss. Really.)

Here's a taste, if you have the stomach for it.



Well, I tuned in to watch and found... it was a rerun of the night before's "Frankenstein" broadcast! O Sven! What hast thou wrought?

I'm sure he'll never hear the end of this from his fan base. Serves him right.

I also like to catch CBS Sunday Morning from time to time. Today was a lucky find: a meditation on the importance of separation of church and state in light of the current presidential election campaigns. It's called "In God We Trust." I found it very even handed save for one small, but bothersome, thing: there was no concession that there are also non-beleivers like me, out there, but rather a tacit assumption that all Americans practice some form of faith or other.

Ultimately, the truth is this: if I am allowed not to believe, then you will always be allowed to believe however you wish. It seems so simple, and yet so many want to take that away...

There's also going to be a two-hour special on CBS tonight: "In God's Name." If the previews are any indication of the show's content, I'm not going to have the stomach for it, tonight: it appears to be a bunch of talking heads claiming region is anti-violence. According to the show's web page it's going to be nothing but religious leaders. No non-belief voice is going to be given even 10 seconds of air time!

If religion is anti-violence, then I guess the lessons of history (and most texts upon which many religions are based) are wrong. But only a holy man would have the gumption to make the claims made in the preview I saw this morning.

I think tonight I'd rather watch Vincent Price in "The Last Man on Earth," instead.

A Public Service Bulletin courtesy XTC

As so many complain about not enough people remembering God this Christmas, I'll offer this classic song of positive atheism from XTC.

As always, you're welcome.

Welcome to the Carnival of the Godless!

I learned about this from Orac's Respectful Insolence.

Now... what do I want to submit...?

Two Classic Statements of the Problem of Evil

The first, and earliest, is from Epicurus:

If God is willing to prevent evil, but is not able to?
Then He is not omnipotent.
If He is able, but not willing?
Then He is malevolent.
If He is both able and willing?
Then whence cometh evil?
If He is neither able nor willing?
Then why call Him God?

The second, written by Hume (and my first exposure to the problem of evil), is a stronger formulation of the same argument:

"[Gods] power we allow [is] infinite: Whatever he wills is executed: But neither man nor any other animal are happy: Therefore he does not will their happiness. His wisdom is infinite: He is never mistaken in choosing the means to any end: But the course of nature tends not to human or animal felicity: Therefore it is not established for that purpose. Through the whole compass of human knowledge, there are no inferences more certain and infallible than these. In what respect, then, do his benevolence and mercy resemble the benevolence and mercy of men?"

I've yet to hear someone refute this without relying on the tired cannard of "Free Will." After all, even if we have free will, God should still be helping us if he is capable, omnipotent, all-loving, blah-blah-blah...

So what are you thankful for?

Today is Thanksgiving, and Mrs. Wit and I are preparing to spend the majority of the day with family.

It's fairly well known and understood that the earliest versions of what we Americans (and Canadians) would recognize as a "thanksgiving celebration" (note the lower-case "t" in "thanksgiving") where end-of-the harvest celebrations. Examples of such celebrations can be found throughout the world and across a variety of cultures. But in these United States, we are taught to believe that thanksgiving properly has a capital "T" and had its origins in the pilgrims expressing their thanks to God for all their good fortune, and breaking bread with the local Native Americans, who were gosh darn chummy with the colonists. Kind of gives you a nice nostalgic image of the two groups gorging themselves on turkey, maize and bread; after which the goodwives and squaws set about cleaning the dishes while the pilgrim men and braves, bloated and slowly sinking into a food coma, sat back to watch a lacrosse game.

Well, I want to look at what Thanksgiving is supposed to be, what others want us to believe it is, and what it has actually become.

What it is supposed to be.

The United States of America has had several proclamations of a "national day of thanksgiving," but as a proper holiday it did not exist until the FDR administration set it as the fourth Thursday in November in 1939. Prior to that, it was set by presidential proclamation... and such proclamations only happened sporadically until Abraham Lincoln set the last Thursday in November as a "prayerful day of Thanksgiving." After ol' Abe set the benchmark, the Office of the President has made an annual declaration of a National Day of Thanksgiving. All of them talk about how hard we have worked as a nation, about how we should show gratitude for what we have, and give thanks to Almighty God for what we have.

And I can deal with that. I can even accept the "thank Almighty God" part as lip service to the God Believing Voters out there. But what does it mean to be "thankful," which is the core concept behind this holiday of ours?

For an answer, I consulted one of my favorite online resources: Ask Oxford. Say what you will, the Oxford Dictionary of the English Language is considered the standard for definitions of words in what is arguably the lingua franca of Earth.

Ask Oxford defines "thankful" as:

1. pleased and relieved
2. expressing gratitude
   

Hey, this is pretty cool! We'll come back to this in a little bit.

What others want us to believe it is.

If you choose to believe such self-appointed monitors of moral righteousness as Jim Dobson's Focus on the Family and Pat Robertson's Christian Broadcasting Network, the Annual American Turkey Feast is primarily supposed to be about worshipping God and thanking him for all the wonderful things in our lives.

Pardon me. I think I'm having an intestinal cramp.

Oh, wait, sorry. That was just my normal reaction to having read two web articles written (ostensibly) by two Fundamentalist Theocratic Nether Orifices who, when you examine their theology in the cold light of reason, are not that much better than the Taliban. But I digress...

Okay, so Focus on the Family and CBN want us to kneel down to an ineffable omnipresent being who has had more personality changes than Sybil for the turkey, the sweet potatoes, and positive aspects of our lives.

Give me a break.

If we look at the definition of "thankful," above, you might notice something missing from both definitions: God.

I can be pleased and relieved today that no one in my family has died or suffered some tragic loss. I can also be pleased and relieved at the engagements and marriages in my circle of peers, and the births of gurgling babies to my more distant relations. But I don't need to drag God into the whole thing.

And I've already expressed gratitude to my wife for making the fabulous cranberry cheesecake we'll be taking to the table, later today. And I'll more than likely express my gratitude to her (again) for deeming me worthy enough to marry. And I'll be expressing my gratitude to my wonderful in-laws, and I'll be ever so grateful to human ingenuity for developing the agricultural technologies and practices that will allow us to overstack the dining room table and kitchen counters to the point of breaking. And again, I don't see how God has to fit into the entire equation.

In fact, I really appreciate no longer having the burden of imagining an eternal, petty judge looking down upon me and evaluating every move I make and every thought I have. I'm grateful most of all to myself for now being able to look upon the world as it truly is, warts and all, and find it a more beautiful and wondrous place than could ever be painted by pontiffs and preachers.

We, as a species, have enough holidays which we can use to thank God for whatever we want to thank him for, if we are so inclined. I'd just like to take this day to appreciate the good things in my life for their own sake, and nothing more. Yeah, the argument can be made that God makes all these things possible, but that's presupposing God exists. Give me a preponderance of empirical, independently verifiable proof of a supreme being who has cause over our lives, and then we can talk.

In the mean time, as for me and my house, we'll appreciate the people around us and the tangible and intangible things we can give each other: a smile, a hug, another dollop of mashed potatoes and gravy, unconditional love, etc.

What it has become.

Let's face it: Thanksgiving, like New Year's, is a more or less secular holiday in this nation of ours, despite the religious rhetoric contained in the various presidential proclamations. When we talk about Thanksgiving among our friends, relatives and co-workers, what do we really communicate?

• Travel to see family, sometimes family that is geographically distant (usually for reasons of another kind of distance)
• Having to deal with family you are obligated to see on such a holiday, but would otherwise ignore (see the preceding bullet point)
• A big ass feast involving mass quantities of poultry and starch (how many of us call it "Turkey Day?")
• And, most importantly, it is the starting gun for western capitalism's High Holy Days, the Christmas Shopping Season.
  

No, I don't like it, either, but let's at least be honest about it.

If we can openly acknowledge - and, more importantly, accept - these truths about Thanksgiving, it will be much easier for us as a people to start making it something more, again. Something about being thankful.

Not thankful for some non-existent uber-daddy in the sky. But rather something more important. More here and now. Something we can reach out, touch, know is there and let it know how much we care.

Let's be thankful for each other.

"Are You Jewish?"

I get that a lot, which is funny, because I'm not Jewish (ethnically or otherwise).

I did spend half of my childhood in a Jewish neighborhood, however, and it did affect my mannerisms. From my experience, when people tell me I "look Jewish" (ugh! What does THAT mean?) I find they really mean I "act Jewish."

What brings this up? A short meeting I had with a co-worker, who happens to be a naturalized citizen originally from the other side of the world.

He was nervous as he asked it, which sent up a red flag for me. I also knew, as he asked it, that if I told him I held no religious convictions he would think even less of me than if I were a Jew.

So I used my pat answer when confronted by potential religious bigots in the workplace: "I was raised Catholic."

Which is true, but you would be surprised how rarely I am asked to clarify that statement.

Or maybe you would not be surprised.

I don't always hide behind that answer. I did admit to one co-worker - a Muslim - that I am an atheist. He was surprised.

"How can you be an atheist?" He declared. "You're the most open-minded and moral person at work!"

Yeah, imagine that.

Anyway, back to the tale my other co-worker, who was concerned about my potentially Semitic heritage. I gave him my pat answer and he breathed a huge sigh of relief and laughed. He told me how my hair, nose and "way of talking" made me seem Jewish to him. He apologized. I told him I was not the least bit offended, and that I would not have been offended had I actually been Jewish.

But if I had been Jewish, I would have been deeply suspicious of him. And it turns out with good reason.

For the next fifteen minutes I was entreated to a rant about his Jewish neighbors and their spending habits, and an elicitation of stereotypes about... Greeks...?

I stopped my co-worker and asked him to clarify: was he talking about Jews, Greeks, or Greek Jews?

He looked at me, a little confused, and said: "Aren't all Greeks Jews?"

That gave me pause. I strongly recommended he keep his views to himself because we do have some Jews and, yes, Greek Orthodox Christians, on staff, and that they would take offense to some of the things he was saying.

His eyes went wide when I mentioned we had Jews on staff. He also asked me to explain what "Greek Orthodox" means. Thankfully, he did not ask me to name any of the Jews on staff. I'm sure he can find that out from someone else, anyway...

What did I learn from this? The anti-Semitic jokes in the movie Borat are not really jokes. People really do seem to believe such extreme, richly horsefeathered nonesense.

And now I'll try to find some way to introduce my errant co-worker to this fine organization.

Please allow me to introduce myself...

Last Friday I woke up late and rushed myself out the door to get to work

In my hurry, I grabbed a sweatshirt from the drawer (Friday is "casual day") and threw it on. It was a gray sweatshirt, and so assumed it was the cheesy one I got from my workplace last year on "Employee Appreciation Day." Every year we worker bees get an article of clothing, emblazoned from the company logo, from our employer. Last year, it was a said sweatshirt with the logo stitched on in an almost florescent orange thread.

If I had taken a moment to look in the mirror before running to the car and gunning the engine, I would have noticed I grabbed the wrong sweatshirt.

I'm an atheist. I am also a skeptic and a freethinker. If you don't know what those are, read a book. (Or maybe I'll define them in a later posting.) My wife also falls into these categories.

What has this got to do with anything?

Keep reading and you'll see.

Being atheists, skeptics and freethinkers, we took time off from our jobs and journeyed to Madison, Wisconsin, last month to participate in the 30th annual convention of the Freedom From Religion Foundation, an organization to which we both belong.

While there, we had a grand time. We met some really cool people - like PZ Myers, whose "Pharyngula" blog is a favorite of mine - and listened to some of the keener minds of our time. I'll let PZ's assessment of the convention speak for me, if you are interested in a report on the overall affair.

While at the convention, we bought too many books and a large gray sweatshirt for myself. This particular sweatshirt has the word "Infidel" on the front on large and friendly black letters. I loved it!

And that was the one I grabbed as I headed out to work, this morning. I did not realize my mistake until I parked my car at work and reached for my briefcase and caught the word "Infidel" in my rear-view mirror.

I looked down at my chest to double-check and sighed. I was in a bit of a predicament.

My workplace, I'm sad to say, is not an environment where the values of logic and reason aren held in high esteem. It's an unwritten rule there that to get into the upper echelons management you have to be a fundie Christian. There's also a bit of a double-standard regarding personal expression: many of my co-workers openly display their little crosses and fish symbols and "inspirational literature" on the walls of their cubes quite openly.

I tried using a "Darwin fish" mouse pad and was forced by my boss to conceal it within half an hour... she did not want me to start a scene.

So I stared at the word "Infidel" on my chest and wondered if I really wanted to wander into my Christian workplace with such a potentially inflammatory piece of clothing on me. Di I really want to do this in a workplace where:

• My boss openly declared to me that she no longer "believes in the efficacy of the scientific method" when I asked her to start seeing a doctor about her asthma (rather than the "Chinese medicine" practitioner she now sees)
• Her boss openly keeps a Bible and several concordances in his office alongside his management materials.
• And a VP who used the death of an employee last year as an opportunity to witness for Jesus to someone on staff who is Jewish (she got rather upset about that).
  

No. I would not normally chose to wear such a controversial piece of clothing to work. But once I realized I had done it, I set my teeth and resolved to get through the day, rather than hide it.

Besides, if I drove back home to change, I was going to be late for work. And I hate being late for work.

Well, the day went without much of a hitch. Several co-workers complimented the sweatshirt and did so sincerely. One of them was a Muslim(!), which made me feel good. My boss, it turned out, took PTO that day, so I did not get called into her office.

A lot of True Believers on staff, however, did notice but said nothing. As I expected: direct confrontation is no longer an offended person's way, in my opinion. I'm sure they have complained to their superiors rather than express their disapproval to me directly. My boss will be back in the office tomorrow. I'm sure she'll have words for me then.

So who am I and why am I doing this?

I'm just a working schlub in the Midwest trying to make it through life with his wife. I'm educated, well-employed, and hope to start a family one day. My wife is educated, ambitious, and running her own fairly successful business.

We work hard, we pay our taxes, we are actively involved in our community, and we believe that the United States of America is one of the greatest nations ever to develop on the face of the Earth and are proud to be among its citizens.

But we don't believe in God. And we don't like to take things at face value.

In President Bush II's U.S.A. this makes us suspicious and un-American. Kind if like "communists" during the McCarthy Era. Not that I'm drawing any comparisons, or anything. (*Cough!*)

I'm doing this because there are a lot of sequestered nonbelievers like me in this country. We doubt, we question, or we just don't believe... but if we express it, or express it too much, we are sanctioned by our fellows and, worse yet, pitied by those whose minds are so closed an entire case of WD-40 would not let an independent, critical thought slip through. I'm doing this because I need to express to a wider audience my frustration and dismay at the world slipping into a new Dim Age^TM.

Not a Dark Age. A Dim Age^TM.

The Dark Ages resulted from the collapse of the Roman Empire, the intellectual, technological and civic infrastructure of Europe. It fell away and barbarians squabbled amongst themselves and fought bloody wars among themselves for who gets to own what piece of land or who sits upon what throne on what piece of land.

This Dim Age^TM is different. We still have the intellectual, technological and civic infrastructure that makes this nation great (read "educational and governmental systems"), but there have been forces active almost since the beginning - and steadily gaining steam and power since the days of Barry Goldwater - to chip away at science and reason in education and erode the Bill of Rights in the name of Providence or God or Jesus or whatever you want to call it. We are willfully turning down the light. Or, at least, we are passively allowing others to try to blow out that "candle in the dark," as the late great Carl Sagan called it. And I can't stand it much longer.

So why are you remaining anonymous?

For one thing, I'd like to keep my job. I don't think I would get fired if it got out into the general population that I am an atheist (a few co-workers know, already), but work would become generally uncomfortable. And outside the religious nonsense, I do really like my employer.

More importantly, my wife's business would suffer. She's an independent music teacher, and due to where we live an inordinate number of her clientele are deeply religious. We lived together for a year before we married, and just "living in sin" cost her some customers. If it got out we are atheists? Her business would collapse and she would have to go back to contracting with several music schools in the area, working much longer hours for a good deal less money. That would be unfair to us and unfair to the children she teaches. And the children have become very attached to her.

And sadly, I've known too many Christians who would take personal joy in watching a pair of godless heathens such as us suffer so, regardless of the damage to us or anyone else.

That doesn't mean I'm living in fear that my identity will be discovered. I'm anonymous, for now, and maybe one day I'll reveal my identity. Or maybe I'll be ousted by someone on the net who sees this as a challenge or wants to be annoying. As with the sweatshirt, I'll deal with it when the time comes, setting my teeth and getting through the day.

And it won't all be serious stuff on this blog. There will be irreverence. And jocularity.

And even cocktails.

Welcome to my Dim Age Diary^TM.