Death from the Skies, and blood offerings!

This little guy was deceivingly heavy.

Last night I had the privilege of attending skeptic/astronomer/blogger extraordinaire Phil Plait's talk at The Ohio State University, jointly hosted by Students for Freethought and the Astronomical Society.  It was, as expected, full of the witty and nerdy humor usually seen on his blog.  He ripped on the bad science in Armageddon, discussed how we ought to keep a close eye on the sky because the universe is trying to kill us, and passed around a chunk of an iron-nickel asteroid (pictured) that survived impact with the Earth once upon a time.


I stuck around for a bit after the show for the book signing, got to shake Phil's hand, and have an autographed copy of Death from the Skies! to show for it.  I also got to meet Ashley Paramore of the Secular Student Alliance, as well as a few board members of the Humanist Community of Central Ohio, two organizations in which I'd really like to get involved.


***


In other news, today I did my humanistic duty and donated blood so that some lucky person in need of a transfusion will live to see another day.  It's really the most low-budget way to significantly help someone, and I try to do it as often as I can; I may not have much money to spare, but I can always grow more red blood cells.  Anyone reading this blog (ok, I can probably count that number on one hand, but still!) should do the same if you're eligible.

Disgusting.

Hemant Mehta over at Friendly Atheist posted about this gem of a pastor from South Africa.

“Did you donate your biscuit to men?”

I really am at a loss for words about this.  I would think that even the most credulous religious Americans, even those who donate their life savings to con-artist televangelists, would kick their pastor's teeth in if they witnessed him doing this to a member of the congregation.

Hey China, first-century Rome called...

... they want their persecution of Christians back.

Seriously, Beijing? If the past two millennia have taught non-Christians anything, it's that arresting Christians for openly celebrating their beliefs is really not an effective way to convince them that their religion is false. It has the certain consequence of strengthening their faith and earning them sympathy from other people who are also sick of your oppressive government. Christianity is a religion that is rejuvenated by martyrdom and thrives upon keeping the faith in the face of persecution; arresting 20 churchgoers on Easter Sunday is like throwing a bucket of gasoline on a fire you're trying to extinguish.

Take note, American Jesus-worshipers who whine about secularism: this is what persecution looks like. It's not just teaching science which contradicts your creation myths; it's not telling you we don't want our money or court houses dedicated to your God; it's not letting you to pray on your own time instead of having a federal holiday designated for doing so. It's arresting you just for going to church on the pagan holiday co-opted to celebrate the fabled resurrection of your Savior.

Free Speech and Defamation of Islam

Andrew Stuttaford's recent post over at Secular Right has brought it to my attention that the infamous Pastor Terry Jones is under arrest in Michigan for planning to protest outside a mosque.  Apparently the notion of a "stern talking to" about his bigotry toward Muslims isn't enough for the authorities in Dearborn; they're willing to throw the Constitution down the sewer if it means keeping him from saying something offensive.


There are a few issues on which I have strong opinions, but none that I hold nearly as staunchly as I do my stance against censorship.  Jones is a despicable cur for his Muslim-baiting antics, but he has every legal right to do what he's doing, whether he's burning a book or protesting in front of a building.  We as a free society have no moral authority to stop him.  We can and should criticize him and his message, but he's free to speak his mind.


To be fair, the city does have to concern itself with the practical matter of preventing riots.  Dearborn has a large population of Muslims, both immigrants and natural-born Americans, and a brazen anti-Islam display such as Pastor Jones' usual fare could trigger a violent response among the less sophisticated members of the Muslim community.  I understand their desire to dissuade him from disturbing the peace, just as I might not want someone prodding a wasp nest with a stick if I happened to be standing next to it.


Then again, wasps can't help themselves but to sting anything near them when provoked; humans, regardless of what crazy delusions they believe, are sentient beings capable of rational thought.  We should expect better of the people of Dearborn, as they should be smart enough to know that the best way to deal with trolls is to ignore them.  Let Pastor Jones and his toadies be the lunatics standing on the sidewalk shouting drivel; if he doesn't get the response he's looking for, he might well pack up and go home, just like Fred Phelps has done when some of his recent protests turned out to be duds.


Here's hoping that he's promptly cleared of whatever bogus criminal case the local prosecutor is making against him, and that no one gets violent in response to the venom he spews.

Rapture party, heyyyooo

I told myself I'd stay away from the "Let's snicker at religious people for believing something silly" sort of posts that spice up many an atheist blog. I find myself recanting that vow now, at least for one particular issue.

Photo credit: not me.

Last week I witnessed the caravan of "Judgment Day - May 21, 2011" mobile billboard trucks rolling about Columbus. I passed them stopped in traffic on I-270 on my way home from work. I wish I'd taken a picture, but I didn't really want to take the risks associated with fumbling with a camera phone while driving.  Of course, with these things cruising all over the country, someone was bound to photograph one and post it on the internet.






I'm a bit perturbed by the amount of time and resources that Family Radio is spending promoting this campaign. They haven't stopped with advertising in the continental US - they've got paid advertising for their doomsday prediction as far away as Thailand.  These people are devoting everything they have to warning the world about an apocalypse they're certain is going to come this year.


I've considered three possible outcomes of their efforts, in increasing order of gravity (though decreasing order of likelihood):

1. They all wait around to be raptured on May 21st and nothing happens.  Some of them, disillusioned, abandon the cult and try to put their lives back together.  Others go on to form their own cults, as happened after the Great Disappointment of October 22, 1844.  The rest of the world laughs it off.
2. They turn out to be a suicide cult like Jim Jones' "People's Temple" and all end up dead on May 21st, spending their last moments believing they're being raptured and not giving much thought to the odd aftertaste the Kool-Aid seems to have.
3. They turn out to be a terroristic cult like Aum Shinrikyo and carry out some sort of horrifying WMD attack loosely based on some verses from the Book of Revelation.

 Oh, and mustn't forget:  4.  They were right all along; Jesus comes back, whisks the True Believers up to Heaven, and then our unconditionally loving God proceeds to torture the rest of us for five months before finally throwing us into a lake of fire to forget about us for the rest of eternity.  See a dramatization of the events to unfold in this video (not produced by Family Radio, mind you, but a truly epic film indeed).

If you can make it through the whole thing, then you are truly dedicated to fully investigating the claims of the religious wasting 44 minutes of your time.

And now I see that the who's-who of today's atheists are throwing a Rapture Party!  If it weren't in California, I'd at least consider going, but I'm going to just stay here in Ohio.  Anyone want to join me for a beer on May 21st?

No Hell below us, above us only sky

I was recently asked for my feelings on the idea of evil going unpunished in the atheistic view; without a final Judgment for our actions, doesn't it seem unfair that we all end up equal in death no matter what kind of life we lead? The fact that the world's two largest religions teach that people are judged by God on their adherence to the faith rather than their deeds alone notwithstanding, this is an interesting question.


Heroic actions often get the hero killed in action. Humanitarian workers sometimes die at the hands of the very people they are trying to help. Many murderous dictators have stayed in power until their natural deaths. Some vicious serial killers live out the rest of their days without ever being caught. Would it be comforting to believe that people who do good deeds in life are eternally rewarded, and those who perpetrate evil are eternally punished?


I personally don't think so, but I understand the sentiment. I understand wanting to live in a universe where the good guys win in the end and the bad guys get what's coming to them. I understand wanting to believe that death is neither an escape for the wicked nor an indignity for the righteous.


But I disagree.


Without an afterlife, people who prey upon their fellow humans for material gain or sadistic pleasure aren't just making a futile gesture in an ephemeral life before eternity; they are depriving other human beings of life, liberty, and dignity in the only brief existence their victims have. It should give us a moral imperative to stop injustice while the people involved are still alive instead of waiting for an almighty judge to condemn the perpetrators after death.


Without an afterlife, people who risk their lives or donate significant time and money to improve the world for their fellow humans aren't just trading ephemeral resources for eternal favor; they are using their brief existence to help improve or protect something they believe in and making an impact which may well outlive them. It should inspire us to pay good deeds forward and help them have a greater impact instead of taking for granted that they will be rewarded after death.

You are here.

Ultimately, the universe doesn't seem to care what we do to each other on this mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam. We humans are the ones who care, and in the end, whether we spend our lives selfishly preying upon others or striving to make a positive impact on human society, we all die and rot. I'd personally rather give people of the future something positive to remember about me; after all, the legacy I leave behind is the only thing about me that will survive death.

So, why "atheist" and not some other label?

I decided to both self-identify and "come out" as an atheist back in the autumn of 2009, though those close to me knew I was a practicing agnostic for many years before.  I stated my reasons for it in a lengthy Facebook note, and even set my "religious views" (uh oh, it's official now!) on my profile to "atheist" instead of something clever like "none, thanks" or just leaving the thing blank because oversharing on Facebook is stupid anyway.


My reasoning at the time still stands today, though my views are ever-evolving.


Why "atheist" as opposed to "agnostic" about something inherently unknowable?  It's not because I "know" there is no higher being, but because I find myself utterly unable to believe any account I've heard of a higher being's existence.  To say I'm "agnostic" in regards to the various religions would be like saying I'm agnostic about werewolves or faeries or unicorns.  If I can truthfully say I'm agnostic about any viewpoint of the sort, it's deism, because the idea of a non-interfering Creator behind the very laws of physics that guided the formation of the universe is so abstract that it's really not a belief at all as I see it. 


Why "atheist" as opposed to "naturalist" or "materialist" or any other term denoting belief in only the visible as opposed to disbelief in the invisible?  It's not because my worldview is defined solely by what I don't believe; I do, however, wear the label for the pragmatic reason that it sets me apart politically from the theists.  As an American, I live in one of the most religious nations in the western world, whose motto reads "In God We Trust" and to whose flag we are told to pledge allegiance as "one nation under God."  I'm personally opposed to the idea that believing in God is a prerequisite to being American, and I would feel like I was silently helping perpetuate that notion by not standing up and saying, "Atheists exist in America, and I'm one of them!"


Why "atheist" as opposed to "none" when prompted for my religious affiliation?  Ditto the reasons in the last paragraph, plus the fact that I've decided I want the visibility.  Many people are afraid to draw attention to themselves when they don't fall in line with the crowd, and I honestly can't blame them.  It makes a person a target for all manner of flak, and while I've been lucky to have tolerant, understanding people in my life, other people in other situations have a strong incentive to not rock the boat.  Just as secular humanist organizations are putting up billboards across the country saying "Don't believe in God?  You're not alone," I want to try to send a simple, reassuring message to anyone in my social sphere who feels isolated by their disbelief.


The word "atheist" still has a negative connotation in popular culture, evoking images of bitter, angry, acerbic people with a vendetta against all things religious.  And yes, I sometimes even feel that way, and sometimes lash out with unkind words against religion as a whole when I see people do amoral or unethical things in the name of their faith.  The atheist community has no shortage of voices who make that sort of vitriol their calling card - but there are also many of us who want to have dialogue instead of debate with the religious majority that surrounds us.


I'm not so naïve that I think the word "atheist" will ever be completely free of any negative connotation.  I simply want to help spread the idea that atheism is not a monolithic mindset, but rather a broad term encompassing a variety of philosophies connected only by the fact that they don't include a deity.  Right now, in the minds of many, it is a label meant to divide "us" from "them" across a clear-cut boundary.  My hope is that more people will realize that the statement "I don't believe in any god" tells you as much about a person as does the vague statement "I believe in some god or other."  Honestly, I hate using labels to categorize human beings, and the more nebulous a label's connotations become, the more it forces us human beings to get to know one another before passing judgment.

On Community Without Communion

In the various conversations I've had with religious people in my life, I've often heard one commonly cited "pre-mortem benefit" (my terminology, not theirs) of membership in a religious group: the sense of community they feel among members of their congregation.  It seems to me that it's more than just being surrounded by people who reaffirm their beliefs; people in religious congregations can serve as a network of support (material and/or emotional) for one another during times of crisis, provide an ample supply of volunteers for service projects, and simply present another venue of opportunity for forming new friendships.


Non-religious organizations focused on common interests and hobbies can do some of these same things, of course, but it doesn't seem like it happens on quite the same level.  I found that sense of community to some degree as an undergrad in Phi Sigma Pi (a national co-ed honor fraternity, through which I met several good friends, including my wife), but in all honesty I still felt just slightly out of place at fraternity events, and I haven't felt motivated to stay involved as an alumnus.


In the past I've considered joining a Unitarian Universalist congregation - the idea of interfaith cooperation and a search for truth across different theologies certainly has appealed to me, particularly back when I called myself an agnostic.  To be honest, however, it just doesn't seem like something I'd enjoy in the long run; I'm really just not interested in feigning credence toward spiritualism, and if I'm going to commit my free time to an organization, I'd rather not feel like I'm wasting it on something I just don't believe in.


In the past year I've become aware that there are a growing number of secular humanist organizations out there for people who want this sense of community without the mythology.  These are groups of atheists and agnostics, centered on the philosophy that human beings should help one another find truth, health, and happiness in our material world without needing to speculate about gods, spirits, or an afterlife.  I'll likely be paying a visit to the Humanist Community of Central Ohio in the near future to see if they're right for me.  I'm also planning on going to an atheist Meetup next week in order to (for lack of a better phrase) meet up with some other atheists in Columbus.  Maybe I'll feel right at home with the group, maybe I'll feel like an outsider who just shares their skepticism toward religion.  There's only one way to find out...

Thoughts on the Taliban

While I may get ticked off by some American Christians bent on legislating their sense of morality, subsidizing their churches with my tax dollars, and forcing their creation myths into public schools' science curriculum, I admit I don't really feel personally threatened by them.  Even the antics of anti-gay funeral protestors and Quran burners and the occasional doomsday cult militias are, compared to other forms of extremism, a minor annoyance.  I know I'm fortunate to live in a country where I can at least find secular ground to stand on and feel like there's a small place for nonbelievers among the religious majority, even if some members of that majority seem to hate my guts for not being one of them.


And with that, I'll say I'm glad I don't live in Afghanistan.  The past year has shown some disturbing news involving the Taliban, in which crowds of townsfolk were goaded into violence by Taliban activists.  Even those who didn't directly participate in the killings looked on as spectators - out of fear? schadenfreude?  a mix of both? - as perceived enemies of their culture and of Islam were set upon and brutalized by the mob.  We saw it again with the recent murders of UN aid workers by Taliban-instigated rioters claiming retribution for Pastor Jones' Quran burning party.


The Taliban is a uniquely frightening concept to me.  Unlike the top-down oppressive theocracies like Saudi Arabia and Iran, the Taliban promotes vigilantism in the enforcement of its religious code.  As a heretic living with such a group present, your worst fear isn't the religious secret police - it's your neighbors, your friends, even your own family members, who may all one day surround you with stones in hand, believing it's their moral duty to spill your blood.


Reading news stories about this kind of oppression puts things in perspective.  There are still legal battles and hearts-and-minds campaigns that need to be fought and won on the home front against our homegrown religious fundamentalists, but they pale in magnitude compared to the life-and-death struggles people face under true religious tyranny.

Now Entering the Blogosphere

Here's hoping I don't burn up like an insignificant meteor.  I'm starting this blog primarily to spare my Facebook friends from rants most of them don't care to read.  It'll give me the freedom to speak my mind without offending anyone in the voluntarily captive audience of the news feed, and I just might find an appropriate audience here for what I have to say.


For what it's worth, I'll give prospective readers and commenters a few basic caveats about myself and what I intend to write about.


First, I don't believe in any gods or supernatural forces, and it would take some considerably compelling evidence to change that fact.  I haven't found any such evidence so far, and I've spent a lot of time considering what I believe and why I believe it.  Unless you're truly bringing something new to the table that I can't possibly have heard before, trying to "convert" or "save" me is going to be a waste of time and energy.


Second, speaking my mind is bound to offend somebody out there.  I really try to keep my criticisms of others as constructive as possible, but some things people do make me so angry that I really don't have anything nice to say.  If you think I'm being unfair to a person or group, say so and say why, and I'll take it into consideration and correct myself if I was wrong.


Third, I'm not an expert in anything and don't profess to be one.  That doesn't mean I can't understand a subject well enough to form an opinion of it, but I'm not going to argue with anyone on here about topics like evolution or the Big Bang (no matter how much I may want to) because I'm not a biologist or physicist.  There are plenty of educational resources out there (including actual experts!) for you to consult for that sort of thing.


And with that, I launch my new blog.  Time will tell what happens next.