A to Z Challenge 2020 (B=Backmasking)

Backward Satanic Messages come from playing musical lyrics backward, not that many music lovers would do that. I do listen to Led Zeppelin’s Stairway to Heaven sometimes, but I am never inclined to ask Pandora to play it backwards. The people who believe nonsense like this are those who cannot see or hear anything without trying to figure out how Satan plays into it (SNL Church Lady).

Someone has so much time on their hands that they listen to music, play it backwards, and hear messages (satanic or whatever), then manage to convince others of their discovery.

“…Ooh, it makes me wonder
Ooh, it makes me wonder

There’s a feeling I get
When I look to the west
And my spirit is crying for leaving
In my thoughts I have seen
Rings of smoke through the trees
And the voices of those who standing looking

Ooh, it makes me wonder
Ooh, it really makes me wonder….”

I have so much time on my hands, I write about it. To be clear, I think this back-masking nonsense is more religious crap that no one, even most religious folks, should believe.

Bill

A to Z Challenge 2020 (A=Angel Therapy)

Angel therapy is new age woo-woo claiming effective psychotherapy based on the idea that communicating with angels brings healing as the angel guides the patient.

I don’t remember ever trying to communicate with an angel, but I probably did. As a child, I was taught that we all had a guardian angel to guide each of us through life. I am certain that said guardian never said a word to me. If there ever was one, I’m sure he quit in frustration.

That is what this form of therapy (let’s not forget the therapist) is all about. It sounds copy-cat to me. Yesterday mine told me to wear a mask and gloves into the grocery store, even though I had no intention of robbing the place, although they did seem to have an unguarded supply of TP.

I should have acquired at least one roll to wipe up BS like this.

Bill

How’s That?

“Some believers accuse skeptics of having nothing left but a dull, cold, scientific world. I am left with only art, music, literature, theatre, the magnificence of nature, mathematics, the human spirit, sex, the cosmos, friendship, history, science, imagination, dreams, oceans, mountains, love, and the wonder of birth. That’ll do for me.” ― Lynne Kelly

It seems that for some, if not most, being a thinking conscious creature is not enough. I have no idea what anyone thinks, let alone most. I try to accept what others say they think at face value, but even that is often filtered information, which is probably just as well. I don’t want to have this discussion with any believers (an event also shunned by Kelly), but I do want to highlight my personal experience because it was something I did not expect.

In the Lynne Kelly quote, reality is depicted as cold and dull by the believer or god-worshiper point of view. My experience was the reverse. One day everything was possible because god did it. Eh! Yay god and all that, but I also felt like saying, So what? If god is so omni-amazing-everything, what’s the big deal? Surely a god can do better than this. Right?

After I’d cleared all the god stuff from my world view and how I envisioned or saw the universe, everything became wonderous and amazing, just the opposite of what Oprah Winfrey thinks about how atheists must see the world or universe. She doesn’t know, but sadly, she thinks she does. Yes. I was more in awe of magic without gods (or woo-woo), than I ever was as either a believer or seeker.

I appreciate the fact of life, existence, and my personal reality more than ever before. After standing up as atheist (which simply means god isn’t, in my case), I discovered how amazing everything is, even if it means a universe that is on its own and random. I am pleased to be me, unbeholden to any spirit, god, guardian angel, patron saint, or talk show host.

But to make a couple of points here, I have never in my many years had anyone tell me how embracing their atheism made them sad. Indeed, some miss church socialization and fellowship stuff. I get that. I never missed it, but I understand how others might feel that loss. My experience was probably due to my personal circumstances.

Second, while I accept that everyone has a dark side, most people seem wonderful to me. When I encounter some jerk on earth, I need to remember the nine or more good people I also met.

So, with a nod to Lynne Kelly: me, too. I’m not in the business of contributing to deconversions, but I would if I could. That is because my experience was better. What I can do is share my personal experience, strength, and hope through an awareness not given through any religion.

Like Dr. Phil is wont to ask, “How’s that workin’ for ya?” It feels just mighty fine.

Bill

Did the Catholic Church Corrupt Me (or you)?

In defense of anyone who was raised in a Catholic denomination (there are approximately 24 different Rites or brands), or converted to one, I find it insulting that some ignoramus knuckleheads insist that such persons are corrupted or stupid. Frankly, that is bull shit. I will push back against such nonsense. Since the accusing parties are atheists, their stance is hypocritical, or the pot calling the kettle, etc. Holier than thou atheism? No wonder some of us prefer agnostic.

How I got here

When I was a practicing Catholic of the Roman Rite, I often came to the defense of atheists and atheism. Now an unapologetic atheist, I find myself taking a stance that opposes the position of some atheists (anti-theists, as I see them) who seem to think all Catholics should immediately abandon their faith because church history is unclean. Religion is about God, not history.

Anti-theist atheists, and many others, struggle to deal with the fact that I did not embrace atheism because I rejected religion or embraced evolutionary science. I did neither. Nor did I reject God, as many believers are wanting to think. I simply concluded that it is all man-made nonsense. Since I find no reason to believe a god of any kind exists, religion is pointless for me. But not so for everyone.

A Cultural or Excommunicated Catholic?

I am a baptized Catholic who is an apostate, heretic, and to a lesser degree, a schismatic. I have been automatically excommunicated. Until the excommunication is lifted, it’s forbidden for me to have any ministerial part in the celebration of a Mass or other official worship ceremony. But anyone may attend Mass. I may not celebrate or receive the sacraments or to exercise any formal Church functions. I wouldn’t. I am good with that and I understand it.

I am not a cultural catholic who identifies with Catholic traditions. However, if invited, I would attend church at special occasions like Christmas, Easter, baptisms, weddings, funerals, and such.

What it means to be, or to, corrupt

If someone or something is corrupt, they’re broken morally or in some other way. Corrupt people perform immoral or illegal acts for personal gain, without apology. I have been accused of this because I was raised Catholic. I experienced much more informal corrupting influences outside of the Church in the secular world.

The irony here is that this is the same form of name-calling error believers make regarding atheists. We are corrupt and without a moral compass. Right?

In my case, I was labeled corrupt (indoctrinated would have worked) by a nonbeliever because I spent so many years in religion, particularly as a child. The same person also diagnosed me with cognitive dissonance because I do not regret my Catholic religious roots. He does not understand why I don’t see things his way.

When you corrupt someone, you convince them to do something wrong or even illegal. If you talk your little brother into stealing cookies from the cookie jar, you’re corrupting him. Something corrupt is rotten, spoiled, or out of commission, like a file that makes your computer crash.

To imply, or to directly state, that I was corrupted by the Church is fucking nonsense. In no way was I ever encouraged to do anything wrong or illegal by a Catholic church official or layman. If anything, it seemed to me that everything I wanted to do was morally wrong, according to the Church. In many cases, they had a point.

Should any religion be rejected?

I don’t know. That’s a personal decision. There certainly are a lot of things that should change in virtually every religion and within the minds of believers as well as skeptics. I have concluded that it is highly probable that no god exists, so I do reject all religion since the reason for it does not exist. Religions have done much harm, but also some good. It’s the people that count, not the dogma.

I struggle more with atheists behaving like ass holes, since atheist is how I currently identify. The same person accused me of guilt by association. I worry more about the association issue regarding my skepticism than anything in my past religious affiliations.

In Conclusion

I do not expect the Catholic Church or its people to take all their marbles and report to Saint Peter anytime soon. I don’t expect atheists or any other group to suddenly be enlightened or to behave better. I don’t anticipate any of us will stop criticizing religion. I don’t expect a perfect world.

I do hope that most of us can follow the ancient tradition of treating each other respectfully. I also expect that when I see an innocent group being wrongfully maligned, I will take up the golden rule banner. If that fails, I don’t know what I might do.

Bill

It’s All About How We Feel

All life is full of an unbalanced distribution of pain and suffering. Few, if any of us, intentionally seek out such afflictions. Yet misery finds us. Most animals, certainly humans, avoid these troubles. Unfortunately, many find suicide to be the only recourse to end hopeless permanent misery. While virtually all cling to life, the US suicide rate is at its highest point since WWII (lowest among people of Asian and Pacific Islander groups, highest among Alaskan native people).

Pain has its place. Doctors have denied me relief medication so as not to mask symptoms. I’ve sought medical treatment due to the pain I felt, which signaled something was amiss. I’ve sought support to alleviate my emotional distress, and many of life’s lessons came in the form of pain or shock.

Often, people who become chemically addicted had been seeking pleasure, pain relief, or withdrawal mitigation provided by the substance, either medicinal or nonmedical. Much the same can be said of social addictions. People often help us to feel better.

The goal is the pursuit of feeling happy, whatever that happens to be. A problem is the lie of some drugs, especially alcohol, provide in the form of temporary relief followed by dependence. While relief is the intent, loss of control accompanied by legal transgression is often the result.

And then we have the perverse, unwise, and often injurious idiom, no pain, no gain. I much prefer, listen to your body.

But I want to mention how religion, particularly Christianity, looks upon pain and suffering.

I was religiously taught that experiencing pain and suffering was good, perhaps blessed. While my secular world never supported this acceptance theory, my elementary school teachers, who were Catholic nuns, emphasized the suffering, sacrifice, and martyrdom of saints: holiness.

The passion (read suffering) of Jesus is emphasized dramatically as being caused by human sin. Thus, much, but not all, of Christianity is enamored with pain and suffering. I won’t over-do that here. It gets deep. There must be books and books about the art and science of suffering. Some even claim that one’s suffering contributes to the quality of one’s art.

Like most Catholics, I was taught to offer it up. They could have simply said, just deal with it. But on the mystical road to God works in mysterious ways, one must make life’s pain and suffering serve a useful purpose. That’s religion. And let’s not leave out the it’s your fault, and you should feel guilty and repent. Penance. More suffering which ironically may include prayer.

Fortunately, none of the physicians working in pain management tell their patients to do that, although many cautiously allude to it. However, I have not recently checked any Catholic hospitals.

I have had discussions with my medical providers about some of my pain, and we jointly decided I should endure exercise pain and work through it as it is the best alternative to dangerous surgery. Most properly done exercise is beneficial. I agreed, but dang! I wrote a poem about it.

Still, my goals are to feel good or at least free of most pain and suffering, to remain healthy, and to live as long as reasonably possible. I ascribe to the idea that there is a long enough or too long, but we only seem to know that point when we reach or pass it.

Religions want to tell us what and how god is, and how we should feel about life, death, and god. Some seem to want it both ways. The health and wealth folks are into get mine here and now, but most Christians and Muslims seem ready to accept that heavenly gratification will happen after we die. That is when we will be truly happy and pain free—and dead. I mean cold stone dead.

Many have decided that god is all for the good, and whatever it is they chose to believe is what they want to believe because that is what makes them feel good. And that’s my point. We all want to feel good. They see the wealth and well-being of theirs juxtaposed with their own suffering as God’s will or his mysterious ways.

Be it religion or reality, it’s all about how we feel. I feel as though I am championing the obvious, but for some, this is controversial.

Bill

God ≠ Religion ≠ God

Belief in a god or other spirits does not require practicing a religion. I emphasize the difference between the two things: a belief in a god and doing some religion. Religion makes the rules for dealing with that god, and in some cases other gods.

If something like a god exists as a spiritual or physical deity, with or without interest in humanity or any of Earth’s flora and fauna, then he, she, or it must exist outside of human contact or detection. If not, we would be able to detect a god and the whole question of existence goes away.

Then, we are left to fight over religion, something we have done for thousands of years. There could be anything out there. But, if no god exists, which seems likely without contact or detection, religion becomes pointless as rules for interacting with something nonexistent, which is silly.

Over the years, gods of one kind or another have been given names. You’d think they’d come with their own names, but they need us to name them. Think about it. Why would they need names anyway? Is it so we can tell them apart? We had to name them.

What ever happened to these gods we named: Baal, Isis, Osiris, Saturn, Furrina, Venus, Odin, Thor, Mars, Jupiter, Diana of Ephesus, Pluto, Nin, Istar, Sin, and Mami, to list only a few of the many who were worshipped and believed-in by millions of people? Admittedly, a few gods got their own planet.

Many people claim to believe in some god (usually it’s Jesus in these times and parts of the Universe) yet choose to practice no religion whatsoever (often because some church or preacher pissed them off). They, along with atheists and many others in between, are called nones because we mark or write none for the question that asks what religion you are.

I’ve never seen the question asked like this—Do you believe in any god or gods? That is unless it’s being asked by someone like employees of Pew Research while conducting a religion survey. Many of us lie about that part and say yes when we don’t believe. Back in the 1950’s if you wanted to file with the Draft Board as a conscientious objector, that was the first question asked.

The question usually asked is of what religion do you consider yourself a member, or something very similar. But that’s no big deal.

A bigger deal, which is much more interesting, is that there are many people participating in and practicing religious rites and rituals of one kind or another (even preachers, priests, and other ministers), but who do not believe any god exists. Some of these closeted atheists should win Academy Awards.

Other atheists are made to feel welcome at places like Unitarian Universalist churches and are comfortably open about their disbelief (I honestly don’t get this, but I’m far from an expert). Most others are faking belief (Baptists, Mormons, Catholics, Muslims, Hindus, you-name-it) as best they can for whatever reason they may have.

I stopped believing in a god before I stopped going to church. In fact, over the years I was on-and-off or hit-and-miss as in I’ll try this religion thing one more time. I think that’s the case for many other people. The sequence often goes like this: belief based on what we are told, doubts from thinking too much, disbelief as doubt grows, hanging in there, and finally leaving the faith/church/cult/whatever.

In my case, during the process of my deconversion (not a fan of that word, but that’s what it’s called), I held a senior leadership position in my large Roman Catholic parish (aka, church). Before I left, I was on the threshold of moving on to a new job in another state. I waited until I moved. Then, I simply did nothing. It was easy, if a bit semi-deceptive.

I thought it was better and easier to let my term expire quietly and move on rather than to go through all the business of resigning early and trying to explain why. As part of the process of finding a replacement for me, future leadership candidates asked me a lot of personal spiritual questions that I dodged or declined to answer. I recall saying, I’m not the person you want to ask that question of. I was lying. I knew the answer, but I avoided embarrassment for us both. They didn’t understand, of course, but it was better than don’t ask me, I no longer believe any of this (expletive).

Three or four years passed before I openly and clearly said that I am atheist. Before that, I knew, or at least thought I was. But saying the words to any other person seemed scary. I was wrong. It was not scary. It was just the opposite. It was a relief and not something I should have been worried about. If friends and family can’t handle the truth about me, that’s on them.

If I lost any friends I’ve not noticed. Certainly, some relationships have changed, but so what? I’m sure there were some believers who added distance between us, but others would privately confess to me that they were also atheist or some form of unbeliever, or that a loved one of theirs was.

Only a few centuries ago, Christians killed fellow Christians, Jews, and Muslims over religious differences. Now many Muslims seem set on killing the same three groups, including fellow Muslims (it’s a religion of peace, don’t ya know?). In some places, Hindus and Buddhists seem to be at it.

They are all united in that they all get their holy tit in the wringer if you’re atheist. The problems and shortcomings of religion, while denied by many, are obvious to most people if it is not their personal religion of choice we are talking about. But do they ever consider how foolish it all is if no god exists? Religion becomes a symbol of mankind’s stupidity over the eons.

Therefore, I don’t spend much time hammering religion. I can, and sometimes I must make my point. But the key question should be do you believe in any god? If so, then religion is rightfully a secondary issue. If not, then religion is immaterial.

What religion am I? It’s immaterial.

Bill

Allegory: The Man in the Room (2.0)

Note: I first published this allegory a year ago on the Our Literary Journey blog site (before I started this one). Based upon the comments at the time, it was well received. Some of you will remember it. For those who haven’t read it, here it is with some edits and corrections.

The Man in the Room (2.0)

I don’t recall exactly when I learned a man was in the room. I’m sure someone told me.

For years, I watched as other people behaved as if they knew he was there. This was serious business. People (called martyrs) died because of this man. As a child, I never doubted what I was told about the man in the room. I not only believed he was there, I also knew a lot about him. He was old with a long gray beard, but handsome. He was quite distinguished and grandfatherly.

The man in the room was more important than anyone, even more than the President or the Pope. The President, and especially the Pope, also believed there was a man in the room. The Pope even had secrets that the man had entrusted to him. The man in the room was even more important than I was, or my parents, or any king.

Everything was about this man.

People wanted me to devote my life to the man in the room. We gave up things and made sacrifices either for him or to him. We did good things, like give money and stuff to the poor and needy because the man in the room wanted us to. The more we showed that we cared about the man, the better we were treated by our teachers, preachers, and parents.

The man in the room made the rules for everybody. He picked special adults and told them what the rules were for all of us. Everyone I knew agreed that there was a man in the room, and he was in charge forever. He was super powerful. He could do anything. He was in total control of everything. He could be invisible and even bring dead people to life.

He had always existed and always would.

Eventually, I learned that the man in the room made everything; even me, and you, and the Pope. I learned that he made me for a reason. I was to love and serve him and to do his will outside of the room. Everyone was. Even people who didn’t know it were supposed to serve him. That was my first world view, my purpose for being, but I didn’t fully realize it.

People would talk to the man in the room. Sometimes, they would ask for something. I was taught how to talk to him. I did this for a long time, but the man never talked back to me. Apparently, he only talked to certain people using his thoughts. That made sense. I sometimes asked the man for things. I was told he was always watching me, so I assumed that was why he never gave me anything I asked for.

I knew people went into the room to see the man. One day, I decided to follow some people, hoping to see him. When I opened the door and stepped in, I saw no one, not even the people I had followed. It was an empty room and there was no man or any person to be seen. I wondered why I had seen no one else and why he apparently left the room when I entered. I had been assured that he always remained in the room.

I decided to find out why I had seen no one in the room, especially not the man I was searching for. Since everyone was so positive about the man, I was sure that I had made some mistake.

After leaving the room by the only door, I decided to ask my mother why I had not seen the man. Mom got nervous and seemed upset. She told me to ask my father. I did. That was a mistake. Dad became angry and sent me to my room. He told me that next time he might beat some sense into me.

I decided to try a more neutral person.

I asked one of my teachers who I could trust if there was a reason that I couldn’t see the man. I could see the irritation in her expression, but she kindly explained to me that if I could not see the man, it meant that I did not believe strongly enough. I needed to have more faith. If I believed strongly enough, I would see the man.

As I asked others and I talked with friends, I realized that some people did not see the man either. A few of them never went into the room, or they denied any room existed. But they never told me that there was not a man to be seen. Most others told me that they did see the man. I was told that those of us who did not see the man were at fault. The issue was our lack of faith. And my lack of faith was evidenced by the fact that I asked too many questions and talked about it too much.

I thought the problem was clearly with me. I could see the room, but never saw the man. Others did. I needed more faith. I simply had to try harder.

If others could see him, why not me?

Years passed. I lived my life and almost forgot about the man. However, the man in the room issue never went completely away. People began to assume I could see the man, just as they claimed. I stopped talking about him as though I could not see him. In a way, I lied by pretending.

For a while, I returned to the room often. I decided to ask a man in the room expert if there was reason for my failure and if there was anything I could do. Again, the blindness was my doing. If I would believe more, I would see him. That still made sense to me.

I wondered how to have more faith.

Since I was certain that there was a man in the room, that it was my lack of faith that prevented me from seeing him, I decided to take even more drastic action.

I became a man in the room fanatic. I joined organizations. I took all the classes and attended all the learning groups I could find. My expertise grew and qualified me to teach classes to both children and adults regarding the man in the room and the things they should do to be better followers. Eventually, I became a man in the room leader in a large and important relevant group.

I held firmly to the belief that there was a man in that room. Finally, one day I saw the room again. No one could have done more than I to be a true-blue follower, believer, and expert. I had not seen the room in years, but then one day there it was.

That was my moment, my time, my life-long goal of seeing the man was to be that day.

I proudly opened the door and triumphantly marched into the room, and there sitting in the chair in the corner was me as a child.

The child looked up and said, “I have been sitting here your entire life. I wanted nothing more than to meet the man in the room. For over 50 years, I have waited and searched, while you have worked and prayed and believed. But, look around. There is no man in this room and there never has been. I have gone to other rooms with the same discovery.”

I felt broken and deceived. I had wasted so much of my life hoping to see a man who never existed. Again, I walked out through the only door. When I looked back, the room was gone. I thought, and I wondered, and read and studied all the possibilities. I felt myself changing. I began to say negative things to people regarding what may be in the room.

I had lived most of my life with almost constant thought about the man in the room. Over many months I slowly became a person who openly expressed doubts.

Then one day a friend asked if I still believed that there was a man in the room.

I looked at my friend and said, “For more years than you have been on the earth I have searched for the man in the room. I did more than enough. I have decided that I was deceived. After a lifetime of trying to find a man, it is my conclusion that he does not exist and never has. The man is a myth and has always been.” I was relieved to know that I had finally found a truth that escapes so many.

One day, someone else asked, “What is the point of you saying that there is no man in the room?”

I responded, “There is no room, only one told in stories. There is no man, invisible or otherwise. Too much life is wasted over nothing. Either there is man, or there isn’t. Faith is irrelevant. Belief does not make it so any more than failure to believe makes it not so. It is reality based upon evidence.”

Another man overheard that comment. He approached me and said that I may not make such a statement if I have no proof that there is no man in the room. He said that I was asserting a fact that I could not prove. He wanted me to say that I only believed or assumed that there is no man in the room.

I objected by claiming that I was asked a question (what is the point?) to which I provided my best answer. I postulated nothing. My answer to the question is not an affirmation that there is a man, but an admission that there is no evidence that there ever was a man in the room. Since he was not in the room when I looked, that was all the proof I needed. The fact that others believe there is a man in the room because someone told them has no bearing on reality. It only supports what they already believe.

My conclusion is different than their belief. No one ever told me that there was not a man, only that there was. When I tried to find the man, or to ask why I could not see him, no one said he was not there. They only told me that my inability to find him was my fault.

I no longer believe what people told me. But since I did everything I could, and I did what they told me I must do, and I still did not find any evidence of the man, I concluded he does not exist.

One of the things that helped me with my conclusion is the Hans Christian Andersen story, The Emperor’s New Clothes, and the resulting idiom regarding pluralistic ignorance. I should have known from the beginning that there was no man to see because I could not see him. That should have ended it. But I did not want to accept that what people were telling me were the same lies they had been told.

Almost everyone I knew insisted that I was wrong. When I realized that the Emperor was naked, I knew why I wanted there to be a man in the room. I wanted there to be a man, and I wanted him to be as I was told he was. I wanted to be like most people. I’m not.

Now, I know the truth. I need no proof of what does not exist.

Bill

Dear Believer (in god),

I really, really, really do not believe any god or gods exist or ever have; not yours, his, hers, or theirs. I’m not just saying that for impudence. Likewise, I can’t accept the existence of alternate spiritual beings like angels or devils, nor do I worship or fear them.

The list grows with the addition of spiritual places such as heaven (and saints), hell (and the damned), purgatory (temporary human soul suffering after death), or limbo (fallen in favor among many believers), which was once the permanent stopping place for the innocent unclean or unbaptized.

Consequently, with no gods out there, I further contend that all religions are pointless (at best). With a nod to Hitch, many are poison.

Believing god exists does not make it so except in your mind. Likewise, disbelief does not make god nonexistent. Your hypothesis or god-theory is god(s), supernatural beings, and spirits exist. My position is that your hypothesis is untestable and unverifiable. Your proposal is based upon beliefs you hold that are rooted in what you want to be rather than what is. Call it faith if you like, it really is what you want. You may even think it must be true.

I contend that believing in god, angels, spirits, demons, devils, and life after death does not make you a better person than anyone else (me). But how you behave does. How we treat each other is the pinnacle of human morality. It is not our fear of the supernatural.

I refer to myself as a convinced atheist, like Hitchens, and a skeptic willing to admit not knowing many things, such as the origin of the universe. I see you as a believing theist who makes no such admission of ignorance. Otherwise, you’d be agnostic and make no belief claims.

If I could disprove a god’s existence, this would be easy. If you could prove the existence of your god, that would also be too easy. Nothin’s easy (I have the tee shirt to prove it).

The argument about the actual existence of god has been amusing us for a long time. I don’t know how long. But the same arguments are being repeated many times by your fellow believers trying to make the same illogical and untestable points in a different way. The purpose seeming to have been to create an epiphany of enlightenment rising into my spiritual consciousness. The effect on me has been the opposite of that goal.

While I think I’m right and that all gods are inventions of human minds and imaginations, I’m fond of saying there are no gods. That statement is my opinion, which I am unable to prove. Oddly, many people challenge me to prove my opinion while knowing I can’t.

Don’t you find it odd (hypocritical) that I must prove my opinion and you need not?

If I do not believe in any god, and you do, we disagree. I wish we could leave it at that. But no. There is that Mark 16:15 issue, if you claim to be Christian, especially of the evangelical variety.

You must promulgate (or preach) your side and convince me and others who may have religious beliefs unlike yours. To do this, without evidence you promote that I am evil because of what I think and do not believe. If I dare to push back, you claim victim status because I object to you forcing your religious beliefs on me. Examples are such things as insisting on prayer in school, forbidding the teaching of Evolution, or worse, demanding the teaching of Creationism as science in schools. Creationism is religion. It is not science.

You use the same technique as all abusers always have. You claim god is love, but will send me to hell for eternity, simply because I doubt his/her/their existence. Belief is rewarded in heaven; the rest go to hell. Logic be damned.

I’ve looked. I’ve searched. I’ve tried and studied and thought and thought and talked and listened. For more years than you have been alive I have doubted myself. I’ve endeavored to find truth and evidence for your claims. Have you done half as much to see it my way?

Please at least accept these two things. One, I do not believe in any god. Two, that does not automatically default me to be a bad person without morals or conscience.

Bill

You fucked up. You trusted us.

My wife and I were watching television when a commercial came on for Peter Popoff’s Miracle Water, featuring the 73-year-old exposed con man himself. We had a good laugh and still joke about ordering some of that water every time a problem or unpleasant issue comes into our lives. Popoff, Robert Tilton (also 73), and other quacks offer solutions (even to cancer) if we send (seed) money. I decided to research and write about these charlatans for this week’s post on Dispassionate Doubt.

I was going to do my best to shred the phonies (aren’t they all?) and poke fun at the ignoramuses who fall for the legal untaxed scams by sending money, even if they must borrow it. Then something more interesting happened: I looked in my bathroom mirror.

I grew up as, and spent much of my life as, a practicing (or a non-practicing) Roman Catholic. I recall as a child when my religious family scoffed at the goofy frauds back then, be they on television, radio, or another media broad-or-narrowcasting. I laughed too. This has a lot to do with the formation of my anti-religion views, especially when my friends (critics) ask, what harm does it do? If you don’t know, keep reading, and watch John Oliver’s video.

Have you ever been to a catholic bookstore? It’s not all books. Superstition abounds in the Catholic Church, even while the ecclesiastical leadership attempts to dissuade parishioners from believing the nonsense of which they disapprove, while approving boatloads of crap they find reason to believe.

One day someone handed me a bottle of holy water from Lourdes, France. Lourdes is the location of several apparitions of Mary in the mid-1800s, which the church approved as real, even making Bernadette (the child who saw Mary) a saint. I rubbed a drop on a dry spot on the back of my left hand. Within a week the spot had vanished. If I believed it was the water that precipitated the cure, would it be a miracle or superstition?

I began to wonder if, as a man who probably spent (or sent) money for magical trinkets and may have at least accepted some of the superstition as possible, I might be a bit hypocritical by demeaning the TV crooks and the morons who send them money (oops, too late).

I was a major financial donor in my old parish. Money that was subsequently wasted by priests and bishops (that’s who controls parish or diocese funds) for their own personal benefit, not so unlike today’s TV crooks.

With a little help from a search engine, I found this site (click for link) which sells everything to procure the favor of a god, saint, or angel. Notice the list of items on the left. The 14^th item down is a Saint Joseph home selling kit. Jesus’ stepdad was apparently the first real estate agent.

With the cautioned proviso that one does not see this as a superstition because it pisses off the Pope, one may purchase the kit, bury the statue of the saint in the back yard, upside down for some reason, and then pray like hell for top dollar for the house. It is a tradition, not a superstition (play canned laughter).

Reading a piece on the Friendly Atheist blog, I discovered his posting of a link to a 20-minute segment from John Oliver’s show on television evangelists. If you have not seen it, you should. It’s hilarious!

Two More Atheist Stuffs

Morality

Let me try to get this right. If I say that I doubt the existence of any gods thus far divulged by humanity, people like Steve Harvey, Oprah W., the late George H. W. Bush, and millions of others will stamp me an immoral and untrustworthy person no matter how I live my life. Bush would even deny my citizenship (with all due respect for his pardons for the Iran-Contra criminals).

If I say I believe in a god, especially if it’s theirs, then I am not branded quite as despicable. And if I’m a truly saved Southern Baptist, my behavior becomes irrelevant because I believe and done got saved (once saved, always saved). If I say I believe, even if it is a god damn lie, it’s good enough.

I doubt that any believers feign atheism. But I am certain that many atheists or agnostics, by either omission or action, pretend to believe in a god when they do not or have serious doubts. I have, on occasion, either gone along with something religious or kept my mouth shut about it, and sometimes I still do. It’s not an easy thing to do either way. While I am not closeted, I don’t wear atheist on my shirtsleeve (except for this blog) because it makes my life and that of my spouse safer.

What is so wrong about doing the right thing because it is the right thing to do? Do we all need biblical reference or religious dogma to back up our choices of right and wrong? The truly sad part of this is that I suspect more than a few agnostics and atheists buy into the myth that religious people are more moral because they belong to a religion or believe one of those gods exist. There is no evidence for the claim that believers are more moral than atheists. We’re all just a bit brain washed!

For all of us, morality exists on a continuum and may change with circumstances. But what is more immoral, judging others as bad or evil simply for what they believe? Or, judging people based on their behavior regardless of religion or spiritual path?

Numbers

When research groups like Pew, Gallup, Harris, and others attempt to determine something, they take a poll by asking questions. Why would someone say they are atheist or do not believe in god if it might cause them a problem? Try this.

Q> What religion are you? A> Ummm….none.
Q> Do you believe in God? A> Ummm, uh, kind of, yes, I think something.
Q> Do you masturbate? A> Absolutely not. Never.
Q> Do you think God is watching you? A> What?

One guy called The Atheist Experience and claimed 95% of people believe in a god. His estimate went unchallenged and only his logic error was addressed. I agree with what Christopher Hitchens opined on the topic of percentage of believers and non-believers. I think that much more than 20% of US Citizens are atheist (although a yes or no answers can be hard to get). Only a small percentage of us admit/claim/embrace it. No one knows and will never know how many or what percentage do not really believe in any gods.

When I read the Pew numbers for the central Texas county I live in, it claimed 60% were nones; meaning they do not practice or align with any specific religion. Every atheist in this county falls into that group, including me, whether we admit atheism or not. However, there are certainly exceptions.

If you want more, this link has an excellent article on the subject.

Bill