Tag: Doubt

In Whom Do We Really Trust? (Ignominy of Truth)

Deity du jour

Hear the cheer:

Give me a G, give me an O, give me a D; God, God he’s our man.
If God can’t do it, no one can!

Here is a link to the wiki for the USA motto (also for Nicaragua and Florida): IN GOD WE TRUST (In Deo Fidemus, in Latin). While I see the motto as an attempt to force religion or god upon a minority, along with under god in the US Pledge of Allegiance, I won’t waste time advocating for abolishment.

I never notice it on money. When I say the pledge, I say the same one I did every day in grade school, until it changed in ’55 or so, and just leave out the under god part. (MSWord wants to hyphenate that. How un-American.) I really like the final words of the pledge: with liberty and justice for all. Nothing against any gods. They’re all myths except the ones you think are real.

People have literally been snake-bit, allowed their children to die, died an early death themselves, or experienced some other form of malady because they trusted god (alone) to take care of them. I think the trust a deity idiom is much more about how wonderful we are. Look how holy we are! As the PA preacher wrote in 1861, it was needed to relieve us from the ignominy of heathenism. We seem to think it makes us look better. No god gives a shit.

Look at the third step in the AA 12-step recovery program: Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him. If you turn your will and life over, you must trust something external. It seems that they could have stopped right there, but there are nine more steps, just in case. But it’s a spiritual program, not a religious one, right? God will remove the malady he bestowed upon me if I just trust (promises and all that).

I would go through a case of bull shit flags every day if I cried foul each time a god-squader took the just in case god is busy approach. And what of prayer? If we trust god, do we have to keep reminding him that we want the perfect world which he has not delivered? Oh, I forgot. You gotta die first for that to happen. Trust that myth, too.

Call it God Insurance

Can’t you hear it? I trust god, but I buy insurance. In god I trust, this gun is just in case. I trust under god, but I am going to do what the doctor said. I trust god, but the devil is so sneaky. I trust Him, but anti-virus software is just wise. Seriously? Did I just hear the skeptic fairy sing?

No. Most of us do not trust any god. We’re all more skeptical than we like to think. I was always taught that God helps those that help themselves. That made sense. Since I am fairly convinced of no gods, the whole trust thing, like religion, seems pointless (unless you want to say universe for god, but that seems random). At least there is a universe.

Bill

So, bring money but leave the gun in the car.

 

Conversation Validity

Neil Carter said he was asked, “What drives you to be so adamant in sharing your atheistic beliefs? What is the driving force behind you? To influence others to be nonbelievers??”

The first part of his response encapsulates my thoughts.

“First of all, to me this question implies that, while it’s laudable for the religious to wear their beliefs on their sleeves and talk about them in public spaces, when nonbelievers openly share about their own perspectives it’s just wrong and, gosh, why would you take it upon yourself to talk about this stuff in public? What’s wrong with you?

“My departure from the faith upset many people, but nothing bothered them more than my decision to start writing and speaking about it openly. That took people from sad to angry really quickly, and that’s because the only socially acceptable atheism is that which keeps its thoughts to itself (my emphasis). That disparity alone is reason enough for people like me to write and speak about why we left.” ~ Neil Carter, Godless in Dixie blog

Visiting Christians

We were expecting company. Friends who are devout/ardent Lutherans (when he is not angry at them and singing with the Baptists). I occasionally wore some jewelry that identified me as atheist, if anyone paid attention (which they don’t). My wife suggested I not wear the items when the two visitors were with us, so as not to upset them. I suggested that my opinion regarding any god was as valid as theirs. She agreed and withdrew her request, but I didn’t wear the items simply to avoid discussion and to prevent my atheism from causing a problem with her friends. Acceptance and tolerance are the best I could do, but that works. Do I handle such things wrong?

They were visiting over a weekend. We decided to drive past several local Lutheran churches so they could see if the right combination of letters appeared on any of the church marquee signs. If so, they would know it was safe for them to attend a Sunday service there. We offered transport, not attendance.

Since they could not identify any of the churches as suitable with the right flavor of Lutheranism, they did not go. Apparently, there are valid synod reasons for not keeping the third commandment (or fourth, depending on how you slice them). Online resources identify 40 different types of Lutheran.

Thou Shalt Not Say It

I was discussing atheism and a book by Sam Harris in an organized mens book club. A few members spent several long uninterrupted minutes explaining something about their religion. An older gentleman interrupted me to say that he was an atheist but never wrote or spoke about it. He just was and that was the end of it. His comment made me realize that many other atheists are likewise silent. They don’t believe in any god and that’s the end of it. Nobody needs to know. Nothing need be said. It might upset the theists. Is that cooperation or submissiveness?

Since then, I have had several people confess their atheism, or that of their loved ones, to me because they knew I had embraced disbelief. That makes me safe. Normally, such confessions are made in private. While I was never asked me to keep a secret, it was clear to me that they (or the loved one), while not exactly closeted, were not public or outspoken.

I Get It

While I understand the reluctance to speak up, all this is very telling. My wife and I were practicing Catholics. That was acceptable, even though several family members and some friends resented it or disapproved, especially in her case since she was a convert from Protestantism. But atheism? That’s a whole other deal. Atheists are considered the worst. For the record, my wife does not claim to disbelieve.

When people choose to keep their opinions private I don’t want a vote or a voice in what they should do, but I have an opinion. If people (atheists, agnostics, free thinkers, skeptics) go through the motions of going to church to avoid a personal conflict or crisis, I understand their actions. But I also know that living a lie for the sake of peace is not heroic, it’s personal martyrdom at the hands of religion to please the religious. I can’t imagine the weight of pretending to be religious for the sake of others. It is a form of reverse religious persecution.

Anyway, other than one friend who simply asked, are you an atheist?, no one has questioned my incredulity. It’s no secret. At least one neighbor knows, my kids all know (I think; not sure of grands), and most, if not all, of my friends know. Yet, believers who don’t know about me will try to flash their religion, church, or prayerfulness at me. I assume their motive is to impress. Do you know what a horse laugh is?

It’s Not Okay

I will not allow anyone to think that I believe in any god or that I practice any religion. That would be unfair to them, to other non-believers, to my friends and family, and to me. When faced with the conversation, I am willing to have it. I will try not to use terms like woo-woo, bullshit, do you really fucking believe that crap?, or holy shit!

I will tell anyone why I am atheist, but first they must tell me what they believe and why they think I should. It is a valid conversation to have. My views are as worthy as anyone’s.

In 21st Century USA, or anywhere in the world, no one should be imprisoned or burdened by the religions or religious views of friends, neighbors, or family. Freedom of religion must include freedom from religion or there is no freedom at all. If you think otherwise, you do not understand freedom, religion, or history.

Bill

 

 

Does Praying Offend?

I’m not offended by people praying, but I think it’s a silly waste of time. I am also not offended by people dancing, public displays of affection (all sexual preferences/ orientations), drinking in public, religious garb, cannabis smoking, public breast feeding, most tatoos and body jewelry/hardware, the word fuck, and the list goes on. Nor do I think most of that to be wasted time. Many things that offend others may cause me to raise a brow, but I’m seldom enticed into feeling offended.

I am not offended that people practice religions, pray, dance around the fire, or believe they turn into werewolves. We all have the right to believe whatever we want, must, or were raised with, up to a point. When those beliefs impact, are forced upon, or negatively affect the rights of others, expect felt offense. And right there is the problem for religion.

I lived in a Muslim country for more than a year. Five times each day the call to prayer would echo from a too-nearby minaret loudspeaker, after a few snaps, crackles, and pops. I was annoyed, but I was not an offended infidel.

Doctors cost money, prayer is free. Prayed for children denied medical attention sometimes die. And its legal. I am supposed to be quiet to respect the prayer time of those who pray publicly, yet many believe that same prayed to god will condemn me to hell. I am not offended, yet they think I should be. They would be.

I wish people did not pray and did not believe in any god because it would be better for them and the world, but many pray to their god asking that he make me come to believe as they do. If I say prayer is useless, they are offended by my private opinion. If they offer to pray for me and I suggest they read a poem instead, they’re offended. But I am not.

If I suggest they not block the emergency exit, they say I am persecuting religious freedom. I must wait to drink my beer and eat my pizza while they pray. But I am not offended. If I watch and wait, they are offended that I do not pray. Fuck ‘em, but I’m unoffended. If they want to hold my hand as they pray, but at no other time, I am not offended. But they take offense if I decline.

I am offended by the religious beliefs of many. The privileged status of the religious combined with the hypocrisy of falsely claimed persecution is mindboggling. When Bush #1 said I was not an American citizen because I do not believe in god, I was offended. When Oprah W. said that a self-proclaimed atheist O.W. was interviewing could not be atheist, I was offended. When Falwell said freedom of religion does not also mean freedom from religion, I was offended. When Cruz said the Bible trumps the U.S. Constitution, I was offended.

When basic constitutional or human rights are denied Americans because of the religious beliefs of other Americans, I am offended. When people of religion are favored for no other reason over people who practice a different religion or none, I feel offended and ashamed by the foolishness of such favor. But I am not offended by prayer. I just think it stupid. I hope that does not offend you.

If you are, check out this offended person, religion on religion. I was not offended.

Bill

When was the last time you prayed?

About a year ago a midwestern friend asked people to pray for rain. I thought, if god exists he should make it rain there. It did! In fact, I think they’re having problems with floods now. Apparently, sometimes folks need to tell him when to stop. I also tend to pray when I’m upset. I’ve invoked deities with things like god damn it (or dad gum it), Jesus Christ (or the family version of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph), Oh, God!, good god (or good grief), god help you, god only knows, bless her (or his) heart, and so on.

My last in earnest prayer was reciting part of Mark 9:24, I believe, help my unbelief, which is an alleged quote said by a father during a scene in which Jesus performed an exorcism on the man’s son. That prayer was eight or nine years ago as I was dealing with doubts about religion and god.

Roughly five years later I openly embraced my own atheism. My only prayers since might be called sarcastic blasphemy by some. I do not seriously pray. I would not pray if I ever came to believe in some god. I do not say amen after someone else prays, but I do (for now) sit or stand quietly while they pray or say some form of grace or meal blessing. I’m not sure how much longer I will cooperate with the holding of hands since I see that as me participating in the act of prayer.

What about people who believe in gods, especially the Abrahamic one, and never pray? Are they theists, deists, or practical atheists, as the Catholic church claims?

I have always thought that what people do matters most. I have never bought into the once saved, always saved; or what people believe matters more than what they do. In my mind, it fits well into what we do matters more than what we say.

I can’t recall ever being told that it is a sin to not ever pray. Is it wrong to never physically and verbally acknowledge a god, even if you do believe in one or more?

I no longer pray because I am mostly convinced (97.7%, if you need a degree) that no gods exist, and if they did, prayer would still be nonsense. When I prayed it was because it was a big part of the religion I practiced, not because I thought it was working. I prayed for dead people to be in heaven and I prayed for sick and dying people to recover. The sick got well, the dying died anyway.

Of the 80 or 90 percent of people who claim to believe in some sort of deity or woo-woo, how many never pray, never go to church, never practice a religion, and never dance naked around the fire during a full, or new moon?

Bill

Fandango’s Provocative Question (FPQ) #29

It shouldn’t matter, but it does.

Fandango’s Provocative Question (FPQ) provided me a prompt for my blog. Thanks, man.

This is how Fandango asked the question:

  • Thomas Jefferson said, “It does me no injury for my neighbor to tell me there are 20 gods or no gods. It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg.”
  • The FPQ asks, “Do you agree with Thomas Jefferson that it doesn’t matter or hurt you if people believe in many gods, in one god, or no gods? Why or why not?”

My response takes Jefferson’s comment at face value, since I don’t know the exact context, much less TJ’s thoughts. But I must split a hair. Mister Jefferson spoke of his neighbor telling him gods exist or do not and that causes no harm to Jefferson, or to me. I agree. The people who want to tell me god(s) exist(s) or not cause me no physical pain or financial loss. But that is not how Fandango posed the question.

He asked if it mattered or hurt me if people believe in god or not, and why. The biggest difference in the two is that Jefferson’s comment was personal, Fandango’s question is culturally broader and public: ‘people’ instead of my neighbor; ‘belief’ instead of god. Jefferson did not address belief (although he did in other comments), but the FPQ does.

I read one post in response in which the writer said she resented people doing that (evangelicals or “dedicated atheists”). While she never said if she agreed with Jefferson, that comment implies she does not.

I showed the FPQ to my wife and her reply to it was, “It’s none of my business.” I shook her hand and said, “Welcome to the neighborhood. Have you found a church home yet? Feel free to join us at….”

Yes. What people believe does hurt me! It picks my pocket and breaks my leg. The problem is that virtually all belief in god(s) is mired in some form of religion, even for those believers who claim no religion or eschew organized religion.

Religion is given a privileged status in the USA and much of the world. Some people make fortunes with religion and cry persecution if we ask them to pay taxes. The business of religion is given use of public property and protection (police and fire) without paying for it. I pay more taxes because of that.

I’m not even sure where to begin with physical harm. Maybe I should turn on the news to see what religious group has blown up another today. All Abrahamic scripture says that I should be killed because I do not believe in any god(s). Death threats are not rare over religion, nor is homicide.

What people believe matters to me, and it should to you. “Religion poisons everything.” Freedom of and from religion may be good things, but the greater emphasis should be on the from.

Bill

 

What is Reality?

I forget the exact words of my friend’s conversation with me. It must have been after one of her trips to Austin for a Deepak Chopra thingy. At the time she was New Age and I was trying to be a practicing Roman Catholic. She did not criticize my religion, but I am sure she thought it wrong (as did evangelicals, Lutherans, and the anti-organized religion crowd, and me today). Something she said led me to a question.

I asked, What about reality? She said, don’t be negative and depressing. I was surprised by her dim view of what she considered reality. Indeed, she’d had a shitty life for the most part, being married to a hopeless misogynistic alcoholic. But my friend’s negative view of reality and her refusal to consider it still troubles me after ten years. Hers was not a unique way to see the world.

Many people deliberately shun all forms of reality. And in my opinion, the same goes for human nature and truth. That was not the only time she assumed she knew my thoughts and motives. The discussion of reality stopped.

Some years prior to that, a professional therapist looked at me and said, “We each have our own reality.” I understood her comment as a mental health professional, considering how individual psychological perspective effects behavior. While I may have bought it at the time, I was skeptical then and don’t agree with her now. Schizophrenics and hypochondriacs may think they live in their own reality, but that reality is part of the illness. It is not part of physical reality, except to them. It is not true (voices or illnesses).

What is imagined does not necessarily exist, although the discussion goes on and on. Because hallucination is a real thing does not mean what is imagined physically exists.

Apparently, reality in the sense of the real physical world is not as simple as many of us see it. However, most of us only deal with our immediate surroundings—the reality we live within. The reality we can sense.

Few of us are philosophers or physicists in the professional or technical sense. Most of us claim to have some form of belief in a god/higher power/supreme being, or some form of yaddy yadda woo-woo, whatever. That belief often goes beyond the point of I think god is real to there is a god. It’s okay to believe (own reality) whatever, but belief or faith does not make it real.

Said belief is either fun, gets one laid, or makes one superior to others. Equality is wonderful. But we seem to want to feel superior to others and to have them acknowledge our better-than-you-ness. The accoutrements of beliefs and corresponding religion make for problems which too many believers are in denial of or blind to (but not all).

In order to solidify objections, we want to engage in the demonizing of others. This is done at every level from the presidency (not just this one) and the popes and virtually all religious leadership, down to the most ordinary of people, some not even practitioners of any religion.

Reality is real stuff. Real people, places, and things. It is not an idea, not a may-or-might be, or any possibility. Reality is what is. You can see it, taste it, feel it, smell it, and hear some of it. If you either want to, or for some reason must, believe something else: fine. It’s not real.

Bill

 

Why Do You Believe?

A lady who phoned the internet show, The Atheist Experience, said, “I cannot imagine how anyone could be an atheist.” Despite a long and patient discussion with the show’s co-hosts, she never really changed her view, outlook, or conclusion of what it means for someone to identify as atheist. She saw atheism as the rejection of an existing god, of her own personal spirituality, and the exact opposite of what she believed. She saw it as the flip side of the same belief coin that she applied to herself. When the hosts would try to explain her error, she would interrupt with defensive or attacking arguments. It’s entertainment.

Watching the show is a good lesson about human nature and communication. It is educational. However, for many believers, the puzzling question is indeed how anyone could not believe.

When callers identify as believers, they are usually invited to explain why they believe in a god, have some specific metaphysical world view, or follow a certain religious tradition or dogma. This is usually when there are silent pauses on the part of the caller. That’s understandable.

In day-to-day life, believers are seldom challenged to explain or show how they arrived at some theistic view, so they are ill-prepared to logically present salient facts regarding their belief (often a certainty to them) and how or when they came to such a conclusion as there must be a god. The internet is replete with arguments defending belief or faith. Those I have read are fallacious illogical tripe that eventually falls to pieces before melting into a just because it’s true and I have faith defensive stand. Or worse, because the bible says so.

I like to hear people explain why they believe in a god, a higher power, an invisible force or energy, or whatever it is that causes them to conclude that the high and mighty one exists. It reinforces my own conclusions. However, I do find most honest explanations refreshing for two reasons. One is that, while I’m comfortable with what I think, honesty and sincerity feel good. The other reason is that I get to listen to someone talk through what they believe. So, here are some of my favorite reasons why people do believe in god.

  • I don’t know why. I just do.
  • Ninety-five percent of all people believe, so I must be right.
  • God personally spoke to me or showed himself.
  • Things exist (universe, people, magic). The only possible explanation is a god.
  • I define god however I like, and that is what I believe in.
  • I prayed for something and it came to be, thus proving to me that there is a god (what else?)
  • It is beneficial within our society for me to say I believe and to act that way because it brings social privilege, economic gain, and personal protection.
  • It is what I was taught as a child. I have always been a believer.
  • Everyone will hate me if I do not say that I believe in god. I would be rejected and ostracized, as I have done to others. (That could also be a closeted atheist.)
  • I don’t want to spend eternity in Hell and I’m afraid of dying and other things.
  • It is just obvious that god exists. What else could it be?
  • I’m hedging my bets. If there is a god, I win. If not, I’ve lost nothing.

I think most people who believe in supreme beings and spirits make their claim for cultural reasons. Those reasons are based upon social and educational factors (indoctrination), not on intuition or logical analytical thinking. Therefore, many fundamentalist religious groups want to teach intelligent design as science and religion in public schools. Apparently, they agree with me about the indoctrination part. May I suggest additional required courses in argumentation and basic logic?

Bill

It’s Not Me

I used to say, if there is a god, it’s not me. I now joke about my mid-life crisis being long ago. That time has passed. There was no crisis. What do those two things have in common? Timing. In my forties and early fifties, I needed to change my behavior. During that process, my other mantra was do no harm. I was sure that I often did. I needed to stop.

I was caught up with being a poster-model for the middle aged, American adult male; the father, husband, friend, boss, or whatever people wanted me to be. It seemed right, until it wasn’t. I thought I was normal.

My focus was on my family, my job, and my role vis-à-vis what others wanted me to be. I was a responsible breadwinner and patriarch. I was also seriously dysfunctional because I was not true to myself and may have behaved god-like. So, if there was a crisis during my midlife years, it was with my world view and something of an existential WTF?

I can’t honestly go with crisis here because I thought I was fine. I got through it, and things worked out. That’s how it usually goes, but disasters happen more today.

For the record, this was serious shit. At one point, I recall having suicidal thoughts. I was unconcerned with what any god would think about that, but I placed a high value on what everyone else thought. Luckily, I managed. They were just my thoughts reflecting frustration and an internal transition. Good things, as it turned out.

My past adult years remind me that I’ve always been of two minds—sometimes dissonantly conflicted. I would not have recognized or admitted it to anyone except that Christopher Hitchens made the same confession. I am not like Hitch, but when I read in his last book that he was of two minds, I thought: Good god man. At least two! It was not so much the road less traveled for me as it was that they both made sense, and I was split going both ways. It didn’t work very well.

I couldn’t have untangled things by trying. During that time of my life I began to look deeply to religion from what I still consider my rational point of view. I became interested in what many call eastern religions (really philosophies) and ways of thinking (Zen, meditation, centering prayer, introspection, and the spiritual self) to deal with life and all the challenges I faced. I read books about such things and tried every suggestion I could manage. I still think it all helped me in some way.

This eventually led me back to my Roman Catholic religious roots and 12 years of immersed participation. I regret nothing of those years. I am thankful for all I learned and the opportunities I had. I gave it my best effort, and I held nothing back.

I knew before I left what would happen. It was a graceful exit in that I kept my commitments and moved to another state due to a job change.

I will always be angry about the obvious sexual and cover-up scandal in the Church. I think every Catholic person should feel shame and remorse. Every person of every religion, or of none, should feel anger because of it. But the perv priests and the complicit, lying bishops had nothing to do with me. I did not leave religion because it had failed or that men behaved criminally.

Following the move to another state and my new job, I became religiously inactive. I had time to ponder, read, and to ask myself questions. I was sure that I did not believe in any god and probably never had. I was more certain that all religions had been created by people. I began to realize that I had wanted to be like my ancestors and people I knew. Even my practicing a religion was me trying to be what I thought others (dead or alive) wanted me to be. I am grateful that what I did eventually led to my clear headed giving up.

There was still no existential crisis. I was finding comfort dealing with what I saw as reality and defending it with my own truth in discussions, much to the vexation of some others. I was aware that I was moving toward embracing atheism, but I would not have stated it like that. I would still say, if there is a god, it’s not me. I was still working on me; on my tolerance and patience; on my understanding and knowledge.

Today, I try not to take myself too seriously or to cause problems with the things I say or do, but there are those moments when I feel that I may be giving others a vote concerning me being myself. That was the root problem in the first place. I’m sensitive to letting anyone mold me at this age.

On the other hand, I don’t want to be a jerk. It’s not me, but it happens.

Bill

I Don’t Know

If my grandson were to ask me if I believe in God, what answer should I give? My choices would be: yes, no, maybe, or I plead the Fifth (I refuse to answer on the grounds that if I tell you, it might be life-changing for both of us). He has not asked, and I have not asked him what he thinks. If he would simply ask me if there is a god, I could say I don’t know.

If my father had ever asked me if I believed in God, I would have said yes. Today, that would be a lie, but it would still be my answer. One does not have deep metaphysical discussions with an Archie Bunker type, especially an angry one. I try to choose my battles carefully. I would probably tell my mother the truth, well…maybe, but I don’t know if I would. More on her another time.

I cannot recall the last time anyone asked me if I believed in God. Most people seem to assume I do, and I did used to act as though I did. I only recall one time when someone asked me if I was atheist. It took me two days to answer. While I knew what I was, I felt the need to ponder my response. I had to decide if I wanted to admit it to anyone (especially to me). Prior to that, I had only implied it to one workmate, but I disguised my comments as dismissals of religion. The elephant in the room (belief in a god) wasn’t questioned. I think he assumed I did not believe because of what he said about his father, a long time Mormon convert who never saw the light, vis-à-vis my statements.

When atheists lie about it, it’s euphemistically referred to as being in the closet. It is not telling the truth, so it’s lying. Millions of people all around the world do it every day for good reasons. Most of those reasons are more defensive than deceptive, but often are not without regret and guilt.

This is not about truth and lies. It’s about role playing for your own good and the good of others. I think it’s better to be out of the closet because the cognitive dissonance (guilt) associated with trying to live a dishonest life is troubling and wearing. It feels better, but there is almost always some price to pay for that kind of honesty.

In a scene from the movie The Big Sick (a good, dramatic but light romantic comedy from 2017) where the main male character, Kumail, (finally) confronts his Pakistani parent’s religion, culture, and traditions; his father, a Muslim, asks him “Do you not believe in Allah?” To which Kumail answers, I don’t know what I believe. I have not prayed in years. I don’t know what I believe. I find that answer courageous, and I see his father’s response as controlled and reasonable. (I could not find a clip of the scene.)

Movie character or not (it’s based upon a true-life story), my thought was, not prayed in years and confused beliefs, He’s atheist. Just because he will not say it, that doesn’t mean it’s not the case, right?

Saying I don’t know has to do with knowledge. Agnosticism does also. It’s simply saying I don’t know or I’m uncertain. In a way, it’s pleading the 5th without saying what one believes. Either you believe something, or you don’t. Who knows? Nobody!

It’s also why I don’t know should be an acceptable answer. I like to say there are no gods, but I would not say I know there are no gods. Yet, the latter is what many people think I said. It is simply what I think or believe to be the case, based on the lack of evidence. Few would ask why I doubt any god’s existence. But they would challenge me to prove the negative.

There are times when I am asked questions, and I pause before I answer, often for so long that the questioner begins to lose patience with me. I always want to be sure I can give my best answer. Well, not exactly always.

Sometimes, if I have been sipping some of nature’s finer spirits, I will answer any question immediately, with confidence and authority. One could correctly say I am full of shit, but it’s alcohol. Sober, I am more likely to say I don’t know.

One other answer I like to use either sober (or perhaps while wondering what kind of THC that was) is: I don’t care. That is truly my favorite, although I find ways to dress it up at times.

Bill