Perspective looms fairly important in our lives. It allows us to empathise, to sympathise, to comprehend, to draw conclusions – it’s not the be all and end all of knowledge acquisition of course. But it is an important factor. We even have sayings for it, from the slightly esoteric, “walk a mile in his shoes”, to the reasonably literal “look at it from her point of view”.

Occasionally though, some people have what I’d call perspective blind spots. It could be for instance that they were exposed to something so traumatic that they refuse to even acknowledge that there is another perspective. Wars are a classic example; some veterans of wars will develop an implacable dislike (perhaps even hatred) for the group of people they were fighting against, regardless of what peace has been achieved.

As an atheist, one of the perspective blind-spots I periodically come up against is that some religious or spiritual people believe I have a hole in my life.

The problem of course with that conclusion is that it’s from their perspective. As such, it’s a gibberish proposition from the perspective of the atheist. I’m not saying that in a way which condemns – again, I’m trying to teach some perspective here. It’s like someone coming up to you on the street and declaiming:

It’s a shame you’ll live your whole life without widshonking a humstark.

What’s a humstark? And what precisely is involved with widshonking? Unless a person has the perspective of what a humstark is or widshonking entails, and agrees with the utterer of the statement, the statement, regardless of its intent, is meaningless.

Thus, it’s the same when someone of spiritual or religious belief expresses concern about a ‘hole’ in the life of an atheist; they perceive:

Perspective 1

When in actual fact, the life of the atheist isn’t like that at all, it’s:

Perspective 2

In short, there is no hole because to have the hole requires the belief system that creates the hole; since the atheist doesn’t have the belief system in question, they can’t have the hole.

Now, there’s one final point to make here: it’s not uncommon in this situation for the person who talked about a ‘hole’ to then try to turn this perspective argument around – “Why don’t you see things from my perspective? Why don’t you accept {Jesus|Yahweh|Allah|Healing Chakras|Crystal Lattice Energy|etc} into your life, just for a while? It could change you.”

This is all well and good, but I’d encourage you to find anyone who defines him or herself as an atheist who has never been exposed to religion or spiritual beliefs. You can’t – you won’t.

No atheist goes through life without some level of exposure to religion or spirituality. We already have had an exposure to your perspective, you would say. I became an atheist at age 8, for instance. Now, a religious person can’t tell me that 8 is too young to decide on atheism when modern religion is full of fervent exclamations of child-prodigies who “discover the lord” young – when religious indoctrination barely weeks after birth through baptism, for instance, is commonly entrenched in a lot of societies. Pick a town where an atheist could have lived his or her whole life without ever walking past a church, a spiritual centre, a religious bookshop. Yes, I’m lumping both religion and spirituality together there, but to be perfectly honest, to the dyed in the wool atheist, they’re just both belief systems on the same big circle.

I even had my crisis of unfaith when I was a teen. Realising I was gay I decided to ‘cure’ it by prayer. Two years of self hatred later, I ironically found freedom again from religion via Bishop John Shelby Spong’s book, “Living in Sin? A bishop rethinks human sexuality“. Spirituality? I was as equally exposed to astrology during childhood have met wiccans, have met pagans, have met Muslims and Buddhists and all number of people who profess to or demonstrate an alternate faith system – both spiritual and religious.

So, I can’t be accused of not knowing about or trying the other side.

Can the same be said of the person who tells me I have a hole in my life? If you’re a religious or spiritual person who has previously expressed such concerns, I’d strongly encourage you to stop seeing a hole where none exists. Instead, be prepared to accept that the other person does not share your belief system.

For them, there is no humstark to widshonk.

 

I was inspired by “How do atheists find meaning in life?“, and then a subsequent discussion on Facebook that quite rightly pointed out the sometimes too-generalised criticisms levelled by the author, to write a bit about the rules I live by as an atheist.

  1. This life is the only time you exist. Make the most of it.
  2. This life is the only time anyone else exists. Do not take it from them.
  3. That which we leave behind when we’re gone are the memories and thoughts others have of us. Do your best to ensure they’re good ones.
  4. It’s valid to feel angry about things from time to time. Hate is not valid.
  5. Do not attack the personal religious or spiritual beliefs of another, unless it is to defend against those beliefs being used to impinge your rights.
  6. Good and bad, or good and evil, are discoverable without religion, and we should always try to do good.
  7. Good and bad, or good and evil, are evolving concepts.
  8. Believe that which can be empirically proven.
  9. Follow Hanlon’s Razor until Occam’s Razor demands otherwise.
  10. Our “purpose” should be three-fold:
    • Contribute, in some way, however small, to the evolution of the human mind.
    • Be mindful that we’re not the last generation to inhabit the earth.
    • Be mindful that we’re not the only species to inhabit the earth.

I’m not perfect. Sometimes I fail. That, however, is just part of life.

 

I’ve been thinking a little more about the pathetic diatribe Barnaby Joyce made in the Canberra Times a few days ago, and the utter hypocrisy therein.

In particular, when calling atheists “the sneaky sect”, he claimed:

Yes, this sect’s followers make their way on to your veranda then hold a righteous court of sneering indignation about the crib in the park. You can hear yourself muttering under your breath, ”I wish you would go drown yourself, you pseudo-intellectual Gucci flea.” They write letters to complain about the incorrectness of carols at the school and picket the Christmas tree. To not insult their religion, you must no longer follow yours.

What a hypocritical, ignorant, condescending, arrogant piece of shit that paragraph was.

At the time I said that atheists had hardly pioneered letter writing campaigns or protests. After all, look at the number of letters schools get every year about “immoral” books, or all those christians protesting abortion clinics, funerals, etc.

But now that I’ve had more time to think about it what really makes me angry is the incredibly hypocritical part:

…make their way on to your veranda then hold a righteous court of sneering indignation about the crib in the park…

Are you kidding me, you sad troll?

Barnaby Joyce: I’m now 38 years of age, I’ve lived in three states of Australia for varying lengths of time, I’ve had multiple houses and phone numbers, some listed, some unlisted.

And here’s the consistent thing between all those addresses and phone numbers:

  • I get christians door-knocking to try to convert me or sell me salvation;
  • I get christians letter-dropping pamphlets about Jesus, salvation, and the immorality of homosexuals;
  • I get christian organisations calling me asking for donations.

I’ve not once, in all my life, had an atheist knock on my door, drop a letter or pamphlet in my mailbox, or call me at night asking me for support.

And you, Barnaby Joyce, have the gall to accuse atheists of this?

Crawl back into your sad and bitter little hole, troll.

Yes, I’m pissed off. Nothing irks me more than overpowering hypocrisy, and Barnaby has it in spades.

 

A while ago, Barnaby Joyce, the leader of the LNP in the Australian Senate, said, when speaking of his daughters and the issue of same sex marriage:

“We know that the best protection for those girls is that they get themselves into a secure relationship with a loving husband and I want that to happen for them.

“I don’t want any legislator to take that right away from me.”

(“Gay marriage should be ridiculed, says Independent Bob Katter“, Mat Sadler, Perth Now, 16 August 2011)

Now, at the time, I said opponents such as Barnaby and Bob were coming across as batshit crazy, using stupid arguments about girls not being able to marry men if same-sex marriage were allowed, and (the horror!) “gay” being used to describe homosexuals rather than light happiness.

As we hit the end of December, Barnaby has come out swinging again, this time against atheists. You see, he doesn’t like us, and says:

“My war is always against that religion called atheist extremism, that sneaky sect. Its advocates’ belief in nothing is more affirmed and uncompromising than just about anyone else’s belief in anything.”

(“The ‘sneaky sect’“, Barnaby Joyce, The Canberra Times, 22 December 2011.)

Whoa, Barnaby, starting by calling atheists a ‘sect’ is an interesting proposition, but you blew yourself out of the water when you said we believe in ‘nothing’.

You see, atheists actually believe in quite a lot. Now, I hate to fight fiction with fiction, but I’ll fall back to a quote from Stargate: The Ark Of Truth:

“We believe in the systematic understanding of the physical world through observation and experimentation, through argument and debate, but, most of all, freedom of will.”

You see, atheists aren’t non-believers, they’re generally very staunch believers – in things that can be seen, and proven. Now, I can’t speak for all atheists, but my take on the world is that I want explanations that have a firm basis in fact. It doesn’t mean that I personally have to see and experience it all, but it does mean that reputable scientists for instance, do. That’s why I believe climate change is real. (Barnaby, however, is an unbeliever on that front.)

Now, here’s where Barnaby gets down and dirty with his little rant:

Yes, this sect’s followers make their way on to your veranda then hold a righteous court of sneering indignation about the crib in the park. You can hear yourself muttering under your breath, ”I wish you would go drown yourself, you pseudo-intellectual Gucci flea.”

(“The ‘sneaky sect’“, Barnaby Joyce, The Canberra Times, 22 December 2011.)

An interesting turn of phrase, one has to admit. It kind of reminds me of:

“Put her in the same chaff bag as Julia Gillard and throw them both out to sea.”

(Alan Jones Breakfast Radio Show, 29th June 2011, as quoted on Media Watch.)

Unfortunately, this seems to be a fairly standard response from the extreme right wing. It’s a violent and nasty path to turn own.

Let’s take a catalogue of what I know I believe in, versus what I know Barnaby believes in, just for comparison here.

I believe:

  • In a world view based on details about the physical world which can be independently verified;
  • That people whom I’m debating a topic with still have a right to live, regardless of whether I agree with their belief;
  • That climate change is real, given the vast majority of the world’s scientists concur on it;
  • That the right for same-sex couples to marry will not impact the rights of heterosexual couples to marry.

On the other hand, Barnaby believes:

  • That the accumulated writings of dozens or more people from thousands of years ago represent the truth from an omnipotent deity who started the Universe from nothing and while seemingly all powerful and all-good allows terrible things to happen (well, except those bits that are no longer acceptable to believe in, such as slavery, killing people who work on Sunday, etc.)
  • That someone like him, in a situation being confronted by people who disagree with their world view, would wish those naysayers ill, or even death;
  • That all the scientists in the world can be part of some vast conspiracy (or a part of a “league of morons”, perhaps?) and be completely arse-up wrong about climate change;
  • That if same-sex couples can get married, his daughters may not be able to get married.

I’m going to do this not because I’m feeling smugly superior, but because I need to make the point:

Who is actually on the moral highground with their beliefs? Barnaby, or me?

Barnaby then desperately tries to scramble back onto some ground, let alone moral highground, by insisting of atheists:

“They write letters to complain about the incorrectness of carols at the school and picket the Christmas tree. To not insult their religion, you must no longer follow yours.”

(“The ‘sneaky sect’“, Barnaby Joyce, The Canberra Times, 22 December 2011.)

Interestingly in this, Barnaby seems to forget all the letter writing campaigns by christians in Australia over the years about a plethora of topics. Moral outrage accompanied by a pen and a sheet of paper has lead to untold numbers of letters to schools complaining about Catcher in the Rye, Sons and Lovers – even Harry Potter.

He seems to forget those christians who have been picketing abortion clinics for 20+ years, sometimes hurling vitriol at the people coming and going, or those christians who have been picketing funerals for the express purposes of spreading their hate speech further.

People in glass houses, Barnaby? Don’t start talking about letter writing and picketing as if it’s something atheists invented.

Barnaby fails to grasp the simple facts here – while some atheists undoubtedly would like to see religion made illegal, what people choose to believe in within the privacy of their own home or property is entirely their right. And equally, if people choose to congregate in a church to pray to something I equally believe doesn’t exist, then I may feel sorry for them, but I don’t run out screaming the church should be pulled down.

What I do object to though, and what so many other atheists object to, is the forced, public indoctrination of people into religion. Using Barnaby’s example, why should children be forced into singing christmas carols if either they, or their parents, aren’t religious? (If he thinks that’s OK, well let me tell you as a child who was forced to do that, it’s not. It’s not OK to have a religious teacher single you out as the kid who doesn’t want to sing along to a religious song and make you sing it in front of the entire class.)

Atheists are anything but sneaky. We’re open, and we’re often very up front about our belief in real evidence. We don’t use tomes written hundreds or thousands of years ago and undoubtedly modified countless times since to pick and choose our defences for bigoted world views from, and we don’t need said book to teach us a moral path in life. We also choose to live this life now for fulfilment and happiness, since there’s no evidence at all that there’s any form of life after death.

Barnaby insists that atheists should:

“all just remain at work while the rest of us go on holidays, and we can double the pleasure by knowing that, when we return, they can go on theirs. This doubles the time away from each other.”

(Ibid.)

The age old argument, “If you don’t believe in religion you shouldn’t go on federal instituted holidays that fall at religious times!” Cry me a river, Barnaby. After all, the timing hasn’t really got anything to do with the date of birth for … oh, wait, you’ve got something to add about that? Let’s hear it:

“The timing at the end of December has more to do with the celebration of the pagan festival of Saturnalia rather than when Christ was actually born. Those politically incorrect early Christians had the good sense to roll with the customs rather than to rage against them.”

(Ibid.)

Thanks for saving me the words, Barnaby! If you want to talk about traditions, christmas isn’t really christmas but a pagan festival. So why are so-called traditionalists getting hung up if some people would like to more generically call it a “festive season” or a “holiday season” so as to (a) still pay respect to those who see it as important, (b) recognise the social importance of the time of the year, and (c) not violate their own beliefs in doing so?

Sneaky is as sneaky does, and sneaky people write opinion pieces accusing atheists of being a religious sect so they supposedly have equal ground to argue on, or issue press releases stating that a world famous atheist, having recently died, would now be a believer.

 

Me: There is a pink dragon in my carport.

You: I don’t see a pink dragon.

Me: It’s invisible.

You: How do you know it’s pink?

Me: Because it can show itself when it wants to.

You: But I walked through your carport, I didn’t bump into anything.

Me: It’s quite manoeuvrable.

You: But I’ve seen your car parked in your carport. How could the car and the pink dragon fit in there together?

Me: Because it’s still a young pink dragon – it’s not that big.

You: But still, dragons are meant to be much bigger than elephants, even as a young dragon it must be large.

Me: Yes, well, it can also push itself slightly out of phase from normal matter.

You: But that would mean it phases out from the ground too and it would just fall through the earth.

Me: Pfft! It can levitate.

You: Can I see the pink dragon?

Me: Only if you believe it exists.

You: OK, I believe it exists, but I still can’t see it.

Me: Then you don’t really believe it exists. Only a true believer in the pink dragon can see the pink dragon.

You: Why can’t I feel its breath? Dragons breathe fire, right?

Me: It’s a spiritual fire. Believers in the dragon feel its breath inside them.

You: What does it feel like?

Me: Like the warming glow of a pink dragon’s breath inside me, of course!

You: Wouldn’t that be too hot?

Me: No. Why would it burn its true believers?

You: Can you at least take a photo of the pink dragon for me?

Me: Of course, here it is:

pink dragon

You: I just see an empty carport.

Me: Really? I see the pink dragon in the carport. You mustn’t yet completely believe in the pink dragon.

You: In order to believe in the pink dragon I need to see evidence of its existence.

Me: In order to see the pink dragon you must believe in the pink dragon without questioning.

———-

The “pink dragon” argument (a variant of Russell’s Teapot) is, to me, the perfect example of why I’m completely comfortable with my atheism – and how arguments for religion invariably sound.

 

When I hear people exclaim excitedly that this god thing saved a baby, pulled from the rubble 72 hours or more after an earthquake, I’m reminded of Doctor Who, who said:

“You let one of them go, but that’s nothing new. Every now and then, a little victim’s spared because she smiled, because he’s got freckles, because they begged. And that’s how you live with yourself. That’s how you slaughter millions. Because once in a while, on a whim, if the wind’s in the right direction, you happen to be kind.”

And I think:

“What a capricious, horrid monster this god thing is.”

And it makes me proud to be an atheist.

 

It’s sad to say that there is still violent crime in society. People can and sometimes do become mass murderers, or just one-off murderers, or rapists, or child rapists, and so on. For one reason or another, they go down a path that has them destroy another person’s life. I’m not someone who believes in predestined paths, but only an idiot would suggest that when someone is murdered, that was “their time to go”, or that when someone is raped (either as an adult, or a child) that it doesn’t in any way alter where their life would have gone.

Society has strong notions of justice, repentance and rehabilitation. Committing a crime is a breaking of the social contract, and as such, you must do your part to reapply for full admission to society. Prison, fines, etc., are often mistakenly considered to be all about the notion of punishment, but that’s only meant to be half the equation; the other half, of course, is meant to be about rehabilitation. It’s about having someone come to terms with what they’ve done wrong, and through measured time and self analysis, admit their wrong doing and develop a means of avoiding doing it again.

Sometimes this works, and sometimes it doesn’t. (Some foolish people think that’s what a death penalty should be for – that if someone’s crime is “too great” or that they are continual recidivists in relation to serious crimes, that eventually a death sentence should be applied. That’s a load of crap, really – it’s a cheat’s way out. It’s a section of society saying “We believe there’s a higher authority, we’ll punt this person to that authority rather than dealing with it ourselves”. It’s also not real punishment. Murder the murderer, and their time reflecting on what they’ve done has finished as the light fades from their eyes. Wouldn’t real punishment in that situation actually be keeping them alive for decades? Capital punishment isn’t a solution.)

Ahem. I digress.

While some people jump up and down and claim that the justice system isn’t effective enough, and I’d certainly agree that there’s a lot that needs to be done to reduce recidivism rates overall, the notion of “do society wrong, get punishment+rehabilitate” is actually about the best and most humane option society has been able to develop so far.

Let’s consider an alternate model though:

  • Imagine a situation where a child rapist offers the parents of the victim $100,000 so long as the matter doesn’t go further.
  • Imagine a situation where a child rapist offers to help fund a new park in the community so long as the matter doesn’t go further.
  • Imagine a situation where a doctor who tells a patient condoms will give him AIDS offers to ensure there’s clean water and food for someone in another country so long as the matter doesn’t go further, after that patient has unprotected sex and comes back with HIV.

In other words, imagine a justice system where the perpetrator buys his or her freedom, and nominal absolution.

Coins

You can probably see where I’m going for this. (And for what it’s worth, I fully acknowledge I decided to write this blog post after being referred to Christopher Hitchens’ part in a debate about the merits of religion.)

At a personal, individual level, most of us would find it completely repugnant notion that we could allow people to buy their way out of crime – it’s like putting a price on a life, or on innocence.

Yet, at a collective level it’s something that has been allowed for centuries. Organised religions have, by and large, gotten away with the most atrocious of crimes, not through real absolution and penance, but through two continual crumbs:

  • Selling salvation in the ‘next life’ to people suffering in the now;
  • Providing charitable services.

How is this anything other than buying your way out of a crime?

Isn’t it time that we stopped allowing organisations to throw petty crumbs at society in return for ongoing, perpetual absolution?

Even for all the talk of charity offered by religious groups, it’s never entirely charitable. They attach riders specifically to their charity, requiring people to hear a sermon, or refuse to have anything to do with safe sex, or flatly refuse to help certain people in need because they happen to be gay or lesbian. And then their charitable works become poisoned with corruption, too – even the most basic ones that should be incorruptible.

To be sure, there are people who work in these charitable arms who are genuinely wonderful, giving human beings, who care about others and want to do their utmost to help them. But their work is tainted and degraded by the tawdry nature of the organisation paying its way back into the good graces of society.

These organisations shouldn’t be buying their way out of the misery and suffering they’ve caused. They should be dropping to their knees and profoundly, completely and utterly begging humanity for forgiveness. They should be opening their histories to the world, and exposing all the criminals they’ve shielded over the years to justice, and ending the quest for profit covered up by creative accounting standards.

After all, if a child rapist donated a hamper of food to a hungry family, we wouldn’t say “there there, all is forgiven now”.

It’s time we stopped doing the same for religious organisations that shield their sins behind the petty crumbs of self-absolution via charitable works. Self-absolution doesn’t work. It just leads to continued abuse. After all, if you got away with it once, who is to say you won’t get away with it again?

This isn’t about revenge, it’s about society needing to collectively make the decision to say “Enough is enough: You must work harder for your forgiveness, and you must show penance. Take your dirty money back, and learn to be humans again.”

 

The Reverend Margaret Court, a former tennis player, and leader of a church in Perth, has today come out swinging against same-sex marriage, saying:

“To dismantle this sole definition of marriage and try to legitimise what God calls abominable sexual practices that include sodomy, reveals our ignorance as to the ills that come when society is forced to accept law that violates their very own God-given nature of what is right and what is wrong.”

(“Legend condemns gay marriage“, thewest.com.au, 7 December 2011).

To Margaret, and any other female pastor who has the audacity to decry same sex relationships, and claim to be on some moral high ground when it comes to attacking the GBLTI community, I say this:

I strongly believe you’re acting like a hypocrite, and likely a bigot, too.

Why?

Because like so many who cling to religious authority to deny equal rights, you conveniently ignore any biblical directive that doesn’t suit your purpose. And in this case, let’s consider Timothy 2:11-12:

“A woman should learn in quietness and full submission. I do not permit a woman to teach or have authority over a man; she must be silent.”

Female pastors, reverends, whatever you call yourselves; don’t preach to me that I’m a sinner, or that I shouldn’t be allowed to get married. By the religious tenants that you cling to, not only are you going against god’s will by seeking to “teach” or have “authority” over me as a man, you’re in a position of authority in a church, which is also by your own bible against god’s will.

If you’re prepared to speak without hypocrisy, I’ll listen. Until then, shut up: by your own religion, your opinion is worthless and immoral.

 

As an atheist, I find the notion of an omniscient deity hilarious. Why? Try this simple logical exercise:

  1. An omniscient deity sees everything.
  2. At any given time, there will be depraved people watching child pornography.
  3. Every time someone is watching child pornography, an omniscient deity watches it too.
  4. In fact, an omniscient deity not only watches the porn, but watches the creation of the porn.

Do you really want to pray to something that watches children being molested, and then watches the documentary evidence of it later?

I know I don’t.

 

 

It’s this sort of story that makes me realise the United States of America is largely a sick society. I’m not talking about people being unhealthy, I’m talking about a health system which is so crippled by profit margins and a general disdain for fellow citizens that people are denied absolute basic medical treatment.

As someone who lives in a country with reasonably comprehensive universal healthcare (ironically, dental is somewhat limited), this makes me sick to my stomach:

“A 24-year-old Cincinnati father died from a tooth infection this week because he couldn’t afford his medication … Kyle Willis’ wisdom tooth started hurting two weeks ago. When dentists told him it needed to be pulled, he decided to forgo the procedure, because he was unemployed and had no health insurance.

When his face started swelling and his head began to ache, Willis went to the emergency room, where he received prescriptions for antibiotics and pain medications. Willis couldn’t afford both, so he chose the pain medications.

The tooth infection spread, causing his brain to swell. He died Tuesday.”

Without Insurance, 24-year-old Dies of Toothache – ABC News.

Honestly, it’s sickening that basic pain killers and antibiotics – the simplest and cheapest of all medications – are unavailable universally to everyone in a western country.

And if you think I’m being harshly judgemental, you’re absolutely right.

It’s sad, and it leaves me sick to the core.

If this is the “victory” of your conservatives – the “grand old party” and the tea party, then it’s a terrible inditement. The people who achieved this victory are those “christian” and “god fearing” types who spout sanctimonious piousness but in actual fact only worship one single thing – money.

Please America, learn that there’s nothing wrong with caring for your neighbours.

© 2012 unsane Suffusion theme by Sayontan Sinha