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Thursday, March 10, 2011

Deb Roy: The birth of a word | Video on TED.com

One of the best Ted Talks I have ever seen. Having a 13 month old you never really get to see the progression of a word. With this you see it in amazing clarity and perspective. Truly amazing.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Best of Sam Harris

Sam is quickly becoming my favorite outspoken atheist. And for good reason. He is absolutely brilliant!




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Monday, February 14, 2011

Glenn Beck Fail: Best Of Beck Clips

This is almost too easy. I know it would be easy to compile random clips and make any public figure look stupid, but Beck seems to have a knack for it. Enjoy my atheist brethren!

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Being a Secular Parent


When I was a child my schoolmates and I would often play a game of possibilities. This game had no formal name, but if it did it would probably be "What if." The game would be played out something like this: I would ask a mate "What if you could fly." They then would contemplate the things that could be accomplished given the parameters. Well, being raised in the church I was often asked "What if your son was gay." As if that was the worst possible affliction a child could have. This cruel line of questioning was abundant among the believing, and at the time I didn't second guess its absolutely cruel nature. What I find amusing now, is people ask the same sort of question to me with the presumption of my atheism. The wording of the question is changed however the message is the same. "What if your son grows up to be a christian," again as if this is the worst conceivable possible life choice my son could make. This question has been posed by Christians and atheists alike and most of them with children themselves. I will tell you why I have and always will hate this line of questioning.

The question assumes that I have some sort of choice over the matter, or at the very least assumes that I think I have a choice in my sons life's decisions. I understand that the parent has a role in shaping the mind and ethics of their children, but to imply that I may simply wish my child into my line of reason is missing the point. Richard Dawkins touches on this point many times in his books and his lectures and I tend to agree with it. The point is that religious children who are obviously too young to form an opinion on anything, none-the-less form an opinion on theology, often get labeled with the religion of the parents. When I was a child I was a baptist whether I wanted to be or not, simply because that was the church my mother happened to attend. The same could be said for my cousins who were labeled Catholics when they were still young. I do not wish this for my son, or for any child for that matter, and I think doing so certainly narrows the mind of a young child. When you have grown up in the church and have been labeled a "baptist" since you could remember you don't even think to question it, its the only world you know. Not being a baptist, to me, would have been absurd. Furthermore, questioning anything that contradicted the beliefs of my religion was absurd. And as we have it the complete closing of the mind was accomplished.

I do not wish form of child abuse on my son. My son is not an atheist or an agnostic. He is not a republican, or a democrat. My son is simply a child. My only wish for him is that when he does make up his mind on very important things like religion that he arrives at his decision rationally. If he decides to be an evangelist, a Marxist, a republican, or an atheist I want him to do so in a lucid, open-minded way. At the forefront of his decision making process I want him to know that whatever it is he chooses I will not treat him differently, and that I will always love him even though I may not support his ideology. I do not want the fear of my disapproval to be even a minute factor in any of his ethical decision making. The only time I will intervene is when I feel that he is a danger to himself or others with his decisions.

Being a parent is very difficult. It is a constant learning process for both the child and the parent. When I contemplated being a parent I would often think of the lessons I would instill into my children. So far this little bundle has taught me more about life than anything, or anyone. Being an atheist, or at the least a secular parent, makes it even the more difficult. I am under strict orders from my wife (who is also an atheist) to not use her or my child's name or pictures of them in this blog for the fear of social rejection. As the title suggests we live in the buckle of the bible belt. Her fear is not completely without merit however, there is a real rejection of atheistic parenting here. It is as if the faithful envisions the secular parent teaching their children to sacrifice goats (ironically enough this exaggerated misconception of atheists has it roots in the bible), or that Satan isn't that bad. Being in the backbone of this very religious part of the country makes it even harder to raise a child without religion.

What if my child turns out to be a christian? I will tell him why I disagree with his decision, however I will still love and support him. Deciding to be religious will not remove my love, nor will it shake the foundation of love I have. He will continue to be the most precious thing I ever had a hand in making. He will always be my little dude.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

A Facebook Evangelist!

Yesterday while checking up on my Facebook after work I noticed a message in my inbox. I usually do not get a whole lot of Facebook letters sent to me, as everyone who would send a note has my phone number and would just text me. I opened it and at first glance it looked like a spam letter from a random person. Well it was spam from a random person, however it was much better than regular spam. This "preacher" felt compelled to find me on FB and write me a rather long opening letter (complete with footnotes of scripture that was used,...yes I said footnotes) about how wonderful her particular god is. After about three sentences of babble I felt compelled to write her back. What ensued after my response is both comical and completely sad at the same time. The following are actual screen shots of the conversation. Other than cropping out my personal information they have not been altered, sometimes reality is stranger than fiction anyways. Oh and I realize some of you deal with digital media and are cringing at my lack of editing skills (pretty much MS Paint) but I have not a clue how to do any of that stuff, sorry!



This is basically her introduction. Poorly structured sentences and actual citations of the verses she uses at the bottom.


At this point in time she has already made me mad. She has assumed that I was born an atheist and that I had never "given god a chance."


Now she not only has assumed that I was born an atheist, but she now assumes that the only way for one to be a Christian and then become an atheist is if they have been "Hurt" by someone or that if someone has "Let them down." I actually had to stop and re-read what she wrote. I thought perhaps she meant it some other way, she couldn't possibly think that all former Christians had to go through tragedy to lose faith could she? The answer is yes. At this point I was ready to end the conversation. However I indulged her with a few more responses, and I am glad I did.



After telling her a broad reason for leaving the faith she then tells me that I wasn't a real Christian to start with. She told me that I worshiped an idea and not the real god. She seems to be very judgmental for someone who is taught by the bible to not judge people. How could she possibly know what god and Jesus meant to me when I had faith? She then quotes more scripture and more scripture to back up her judgments.


At this point I'm getting noticeably agitated at the question dodging via random bible verses and asked her to just answer my question straight up. What do you think I get? More babble! Who would've thought?


With all this bible thumping I decided to ask her a question about her beliefs. She then says that she can take some passages as literal and some as poetry or symbolism. I then ask a pretty simple question. Who gets to decide what Christians take as literal and as poetry?


Without giving her proper time to formulate a response, which seems to take a long time for her anyways, I give her a few passages that at one time were taken literally. Her husband then comes into the chat because obviously I wore her out. I can see why they are married, they both seem to have skills in babbling. He then tries to justify owning sex slaves, rather poorly might I add.


When asked directly again (it seems as if I have to do that to get a response) about what his views on the listed verses are, he then uses what every other Christian uses when confronted with the atrocities in the bible: context! I cannot believe this point is still used. Context? It clearly states that god stamped out entire cities because he had a temper tantrum, so on and so forth. He then said something that is a very touchy subject for me. The idea that everyone of us will be judged for what we do on earth. This has been a major argument for me ever since I decided to leave religion. If god is just and caring and loving how could he look down at a person like me and send them to hell? I live the exact same life as I did when I was a believer, except I do it without the fear of punishment or the prospect of reward. I treat people right, I try to do kind things to people, I show love to my wife and son, and I just try to be a decent human being. The righteous believe that I will burn in hell for doing all of that and simply disagreeing with god. This to me is absurd, and should be treated as morally deplorable. So at this point I knew I was done with the conversation and decided to say a few more sentences and then leave it be.


He leaves me with a Bob Dylan video link to youtube. That concludes one of the weirdest preachings I have had in quite some time. Ever since starting this blog I have gotten a few odd faith related e-mails however no one has done this kind of rationalizing ever. In one conversation this team of preachers has concluded that I was hurt by someone in my life, that I never was a real christian, and justifies genocide and the owning of sex slaves. It is people like this that give the decent Christians a very bad name. The point of showing everyone this is not to exploit and poke fun at Christians. It is merely to showcase exactly how hard it is to rationalize with someone who has a closed mind.

Friday, February 4, 2011

Q&A with Christopher Hitchens, Jan 23, 2011

If there is such a thing as a atheist "Jesus" for me Hitch is him. He has given me inspiration and opened me eyes. It is to him that I owe many of my arguments against religion. I can listen to him speak all day, his voice being soothing and deliberate. It is a shame this his time is near, and a bigger shame that I may never meet the man that has given me so much. His candle burned quickly, but what brilliant light it was!

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Living Behind a Mask



At any given time we all adorn a mask. For some, it is to hide a deep secreted vice. Some it is to shroud a part of themselves they are unhappy with, or to become someone they are not. My mask is quite different from those altogether. I suppose a little background is in order before I reveal what is the cause of my masquerade.

About a year ago after a hard day of refitting a new engine in a relatively new VW GTI I noticed a feint dull pain in my hands. It was nothing serious, it was the kind of pain you got as a child after writing 100 sentences out on paper for disobeying the teacher. Blaming this on being a mechanic and overworking myself as I often do, I shoved it to the back of my mind. The pain persisted but was far from being chronic so it was manageable. With much persuasion from my wife I decided to at least get it checked out by my doctor. A fifty dollar copay and two x-rays later he prescribed a steroid pack and sent me on my way. I knew just from the way he described the treatment that it was fairly common. He recited the risks and the treatment plan of my medicine as if it was the opening line of a telemarketers spiel. I took the pills I rested I got somewhat better.

However this dull ache returned and evolved into a serious pain in my hands radiating up to my forearm, only this time it was chronic. Many people who have not suffered chronic pain simply cannot "Know what I am going through." That phrase gets tossed about in similar ways to "Thank heaven" and those who are not afflicted by chronic pain have absolutely no idea what I am going through. Every decision I made to use my hands was a weighing out of the benefits of doing the action, to the consequences of those actions in terms of pain. The tricks that chronic pain plays on the mind are nearly as bad as the pain itself. The most dreadful thought of chronic pain is knowing that nothing you can do will take away the pain, and it is this that amplifies what pain is already present.

The only thing that alleviated the mental part of the equation was self-diagnosis. I was obsessed with symptom checking and the reading of articles of possible causes. Everything from Lupus to Lyme disease raced through my head. "Is it autoimmune?" "Could it be nerve related?" "Could it be related to a botched lumbar puncture?" The ladder question is referring to a procedure that many mothers are familiar with. A long needle is inserted between two vertebrae with a goal of puncturing a disc of fluid to test for various afflictions. It is similar to an epidural in practice, the way it differs in method is it is extracting something as opposed to injecting something. Perhaps my neurologist was having an off day because he proceeded to stab me eleven times into my spine in attempts to withdraw fluid. Each time like an electric wire that seemed to be infinitely hot, in and out, in and out. It took everything in me not to scream out in pain. At times I knew this was the cause for my pain, but now I know that was my brain drawing conclusions based on a traumatic experience.

It had been six months that I lived in chronic pain until I could see a doctor. The 90 day waiting period for insurance benefits to apply when starting a new job is the cause for the wait. Fortunately the doctor I saw was sympathetic to my pain, which oddly enough is rare in my experience. Doctors are apprehensive to start a treatment for an otherwise healthy 25 year old man who complains of pain. After his recommended full blood workup was performed and interpreted he referred me to a rheumatologist. This spawned a flood of future doctor visits and failed hypothesis for the cause of my pain. I saw neurologists, hand surgeons, orthopedic doctors, and diagnosticians. I was told everything from therapy to my diet was the cause of my pain. The most troubling pseudo-diagnosis came from a Vanderbilt neurologist who diagnosed me with depression. When asked if perhaps chronic pain was the cause for my blues this doctor was convinced that my depression was the cause for my specific, localized pain. I think doctors lose sight of the weight that saying something like that has on a pain sufferer. Most of the time I waited weeks to see these doctors, and each time I held the hope that just maybe one of them could help. Then, being told something like what I was told absolutely devastated me.

At least I had Dr. Meyer. He was my general practitioner and although limited in scope of assistance he could provide, he was the spark that started my diagnosis. He took it upon himself to speak to a second rheumatologist for a second go around with diagnosing. This time around my Prednisone regiment worked, and for the fist time in a year I had glimpses of what it was like to not wear my mask. The mask I wore was to cover up the severe pain I had been experiencing. When I told people that I had chronic pain most didn't even believe me. I was so good at hiding it I sometimes doubted the pain myself. I had to, I was not letting this consume me. I did not don my mask because I wanted to, I did it because I had to.

More tests and treatments later I have now (as of last week) arrived at my diagnosis: psoriatic arthritis. An especially painful autoimmune disorder, and in my case it is in advanced stages. The weight of uncertainty being lifted is enough to give me hope that one day I will live without without symptoms. New medicine that science has provided will allow me to be almost 80% pain free, and actually help fight the damage already done. I look forward to the day I can take off my mask and live life.