Modern Christianity (is not as bad as some of you make it out to be)

Posted on by under Religion

I will start this entry by stating that (as you should know) I am not religious. I was born and raised in the Bible Belt; and until my very late teens, everyone I knew was either Baptist, Southern Baptist, or Methodist. I have been immersed in Christian culture. Call me a double agent that was so deep under cover she almost began to believe her own con. My point is: I have eaten, danced, prayed, talked, walked, played, lived with these folk my entire life. I’m here to tell you that they are not all the way many of you, my anti-theist friends, portray them.

In the past week I have seen many “Religious people don’t actually believe that stuff, they just go along with it,” “Christians are homophobic,” “Christians are a hatemongering, bigoted group of thundercunts,” “Believers don’t even buy into their bullshit, they know it is fake” tweets. (These are all fictitious examples, created to represent the multitude I have seen recently on Twitter.) I am mind blown by these statements, people. I have no clue what sort of folk you interact with. Browsing someone’s feed moments ago, I read that you’d get more social interaction at Denny’s than inside of a church. Really?? Perhaps, it has something to do with growing up in rural America. I do not know. But I know that if I chose any of the churches in my area to visit tomorrow for worship, I would be welcomed and (more than likely) invited over for lunch. These “bigoted thundercunts” are the friendliest group of thundercunts I have ever been introduced to. Much like the twitterverse, churches are families where they welcome new additions.

My Christians and Your Christians seem like different species. Today, a friend told me that homophobic remarks upset her greatly. She’s got tattoos and watches zombie movies. She’s a devout Christian. Another friend is the sweetest person you’ll ever meet. She runs marathons, voted for Obama, and believes in evolution (at least the god-assisted kind). Devout Christian. A much older friend has been through many of the same situations I have gotten myself into, even kissed a girl when she was 17. The most caring and accepting person on this planet. Period. Devout Christian.

And they all believe the stuff they read and hear. Why? Because when you are devoted to something, the closer to it you feel. The closer you feel, the more devotion you give. I’ve been there. I know. While it may sound ridiculous to many of you, being Christian is easy. It was easy for me to fall in love with god once I put my mind to it… Maybe this is something akin to hypnosis or brainwashing, but if you believe god exists, and try to focus on “him,” you do feel a presence. It’s like a warm embrace.

Inside your head.

Do I believe it is made up? Yes.

Do I think science can somehow explain it? Absolutely.

What I am trying to get at is merely that your comments show your ignorance of what a religious person goes through. I’m not trying to be high and mighty. I only want to help you understand them so that you are better able to reach them.

On the same plane, some religies are similar to what your perception of them is. My family, for example, is very anti-gay. My older sister hasn’t even kissed her boyfriend of two years yet. But, despite all their faults, their motto is “We accept people as they are and not how we might wish them to be.” My father is one of the most intelligent people I know. (It always stunned my last boyfriend how a man so smart and logical could come to the conclusion that god existed.) Being Christian isn’t synonymous with being stupid. (I would be more inclined to call religion a mental illness or a disease which can be contracted, and, similarly, cured… But that’s a personal opinion.)

So, before I say goodnight, I just wanted to say that maybe you need to show a little compassion, instead of angrily trying to deconvert them. If you show more love and spend less time acting “insulted by their lack of intelligence”, you might have better luck proving your point and that stereotype of atheists being arrogant sons of bitches might be preached less. We could provide the vaccine, my friends.

Much love,

Eve

P.S. I know those other Christians are out there, the ones who damn everyone and tell atheists to die. I do. (I live next to the university founded by the man who told America that Katrina happened because of the gay population, that “if you’re not a born again Christian, you’re a failure as a human being,” and AIDS is god’s punishment on everyone for tolerating homosexuality.) There are less of them than you might be willing to believe.

Of Presidents, Assholery, and Much Too Cold Weather

Posted on by under Politically Incorrect

A piece of me dies each time the weather drops below fifty, so what on Earth am I doing here? This was the thought that greeted me at 6:30 a.m. on Monday. It flickered through my mind as I stood in line, waiting to go through a metal detector, but I ignored it. I was dressed warm; I had come prepared to brave the cold, January air, equipped with scarf, hat, gloves, and a pair of leggings on underneath my jeans… At least I thought I did. Every thirty minutes following, the thought crossed my mind again with another expletive added into the question. Why would a girl like me–cold-natured, no meat on her bones, with an extremely advanced hatred for all things frigid–submit herself to such agonizing conditions? I can only think of two possible situations, one of which being the reason behind my bravery: To hear my president be sworn-in.

Yes, I went to the inauguration this past Monday. It was one of the best (and worst) experiences of my life. I did not expect to be as overcome as I was. When President Obama walked up onto the balcony, I teared up from the sheer joy of being there. Despite freezing my limbs off, despite fighting traffic, despite the people in the surrounding areas being utter assholes and ruining the experience for others, and despite losing my companion in the crowd, I was a part of something greater than myself. I got to stand with my fellow countrymen and women, united by the hope of a brighter future for our children. In a world so overrun by hatred and violence, to hear my president speak of a world where equality and safety were our first concerns, I felt pride in my nation, a pride I had not felt for a long time. For years now, I have disliked America. Between the great materialism and bigotry, I’ve desired to live elsewhere. Not Monday. Monday I was a patriot, a nationalist. See, I believe in Obama; I believe he has a good heart. He’s a good leader and I feel that his cause, his desires are best for America. (No, I’m not about to pledge my undying love for Obama; he’s still mortal and will make mistakes.) Hopefully, he will follow through with his promises and I will live to see a better country. But that remains to be seen, a later post will get into that more fully. Moving on to next part of my day….

When we arrived to the line for our ticketed area, the sun was just peeking out from overtop the business centers on 3rd Street. The warmth was refreshing but it was still chilly. It was going to be a good day though; I could feel it. Then thought thought hit, that silly, little thought: A piece of me dies each time the weather drops below fifty, so what on Earth am I doing here? After we reached our area, the sun came out and my worries retreated…until the sun did too. Hours upon hours of bitter wind and lack of sun met us. Hours of coldness of body, and, also, mind…. more on that in a moment. Look at this photograph. It oozes “I’m freezing, go back home and warm yourself by a fire”.

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Oh, the things I do for my country. (In case you’re thinking the aforementioned Assholery was in reference to my first world problems, WRONG. That relates to a story I regret to tell you. Tickets were free. Remember that. All you have to do is ask the right people and you can go to the inauguration.) We waited for hours in that mind-numbingly frosty air, bodies shaking, fingers stiff; yet, we still waited. I would not break down so close to getting something I’d desired so much: the chance to be a part of history. We moved up towards the front of our section because we could see areas that remained roomy (also, both of us were under 5’2″.) that nearly caused a riot but eventually died down and they let us remain standing. About an hour later, an elderly woman made her way to the fence and sat down. This time, a riot did break out. People were shouting, “I got here at 3 a.m., you can’t just come here and take our spots!” “Lady, what the hell are you doing?! These are taken!” “You can’t barge in here..” And so on. An elderly woman. She was by no means in the way of anyone’s view and was minding her own business. Still, these folks, with their entitlement and righteous anger in hand, demanded she leave. I regret this story the most, because, being non-confrontational, I did not know how to react. I wanted to speak up but lost my voice. I was part of the asshole crowd by my silence. I wish I could apologize to her. Due to the ruckus and extreme cruelty, another group motioned her over and let her sit with their crew. I hate that I, the one who longs to be a voice for those who need it, did not speak up at injustice, it was wrong and only hope that, one day, I can make up for that error.

If you did not have a chance to watch the inauguration, you should. It was beautiful.

Have a wonderful weekend!

A Notsohappy Ending

Posted on by under Uncategorized

Today marks the anniversary of a day that will forever live in infamy inside my mind, Sunday the anniversary of when I tried to kill myself over it. I warn you; this story is not a happy one. If you’re under the age of 15, I ask that you stop reading now. While I will not go into significant detail, I still prefer you do not read this post, partially, because this is too personal, and, in part, due to the fact that rape is not a pleasant subject.

As many of you well know, I have a flirtatious personality, something I have been working on controlling. If I hate myself for anything, it is this fact. To make matter worse I also have the problem of not knowing how to just say “no”. For most of my life this has been a problem and during this particular time, that inability and coquettish nature was in full effect.

I was suffering from a painful breakup and in need of male attention. I met him through a friend. He was funny, charming, and we got along swell. You have heard, I am sure, the quote “If you can make a girl laugh, you can make her do anything.” Unfortunately, most guys know how much truth there is in said statement and do their damnedest to make her laugh. A few days went by of him giving me the attention I craved before the subject of sex came up. I, being the virginal whore I was, acted as though I had performed the act many times. He told me I needed post-breakup sex. I said I needed a friend. He offered friendship. I accepted. I got much more than I bargained for (therapy, antidepressants, trust issues…. Etc). Feeling foolish, I agreed to meet up with him for a late-night chat. God. Even writing this now I cannot believe how stupid and naive I was. And to blame. Who goes out to meet someone they barely know at midnight and not expect something of a sexual nature to occur? Apparently, not him. As soon as I arrived at our meeting place, he said, “Let’s to somewhere more private.” So he and I drove off and parked behind a church. Even as we pulled up to the parking lot, I could feel my heart hit the floor… I was not naive any longer. I knew what was going to happen. Still, I kept my mouth shut, hoping I was wrong, hoping my head was mistaken.

I sat facing forward in my seat, staring into the blackness that was before the windshield, glancing around for possible escape routes but saw none. He started to speak, but I only heard the rhythmic pounding of my heart. He made no move to touch me, but my hands started to shake. I sat there numbly, wishing I could find my voice. He stroked my arm and something in me snapped. For a brief moment, I forgot who I was, where I was, and thought he was my beloved. His hand ran up my knee and he kissed me. His touch felt like my love’s but it could not be. Could it? My hesitation was all he needed. Pulling me into the backseat he began to undress me. No, I whimpered. I am not doing this.

He whispered sweet nothings in my ear. My heart pounded. He told me it was going to be just fine. I cried. Over and over I told him I didn’t want to do it; over and over he demanded. I can only say no so much before I cannot say it any more. I tried to be assertive but his aggression hindered that. Finally, and with apparent anger, he looked at me and told me that since I would not have vaginal intercourse with him, he would still have me. I cried and told him no and pushed and clawed but he pushed me towards the window and proceeded to do anal. My writing sucks now but it is so hard to write eloquently when all I want to do is forget.

Skipping ahead, he apologized profusely for three days straight, begging me to give him a chance to prove he wasn’t an animal. Like a fool, I consented and we met up for coffee. That coffee date ended just as horrifically and I have not spoken to him since.

The moral of my story is this:

Learn to say “no”.
Don’t give a rapist a second chance…. And if you must, don’t be naive about it; always take someone with you.
Never compromise your desires for the desires of others.
And you can heal from any wound in time.

I cannot write this anymore, but here is part of my story.

Morality: Not Just for the Religious Anymore

Posted on by under Religion

One fact about me that my parents cannot seem to wrap their minds around, is how religion–Christianity specifically–could creep me out. [The entire idea of Big Brother watching us, the fate of your body after death resting on whether or not you believed strongly enough in B.B. to warrant "life" or eternal damnation, being "filled with the spirit".... All of these things (and then some) make my skin crawl. Personally, I would rather not think about them at all.] To you, this will probably seem normal, as my audience is primarily a reasonable crowd. However, my parents, though I love them dearly, have spent too much time devoted to appeasing the Abrahamic god for them to understand how another way of life could be moral.

A conversation I recently had with my father turned to this topic. His opinion is that without god, there can be no good, but since there is goodness, there is god. You and I are quite familiar with this flawed logic. The truth is, there being a god does not induce goodness, neither does a lack of one negate it. Still, I was unable to express that to him. I am good at writing, once my thoughts have been collected, but, for me, that takes copious amounts of time as I do not gather thoughts swiftly. Sometimes, I mull over a topic for days before understanding what I need to say and even then I might not be able to communicate it effectively. In any case, I have just reached chapters six and seven in “The God Delusion” (since writing the previous statements) and, not surprisingly, Dawkins lays it out much more eloquently and logically than I.

In reply to the frequently posed question “If there is no god, why be good?” Dawkins asks:

“‘Do you really mean to tell me the only reason you try to be good is to gain God’s approval and reward, or to avoid his disapproval and punishment? That’s not morality, that’s just sucking up, apple-polishing, looking over your shoulder at the great surveillance camera in the sky, or the still small wire tap in your head, monitoring your every move, even you every base thought…’ It seems to me to require a low self-regard to think that, should belief in God suddenly vanish from the world, we would all become callous and selfish hedonists, with no kindness….”

Now, I have heard this question time and again as evidence for the existence of a creator, even from my own father. Again, as Dawkins clearly stresses, if belief in god is the only thing keeping you from committing heinous acts of violence–I have heard “sometimes, I want to kill someone, but god commands me not to, so I do not.”–you do not need god, you need therapy. It is not god who gives us morality, rather, it is an internal knowledge of how to and not to act. Dawkins gives an example from Kant. I will paraphrase it as follows:

Only act in such a way that if everyone else followed suit, you would not be hurt, harmed, or neglected. Act as though it were “universal law”. Would you want your significant other to have an affair? Probably not. That being the case, do not cheat. Do you enjoy being lied to? No? Then do not lie. This is essentially the Golden Rule, but in layman’s terms.

Going back to the conversation between myself and my father: We both are saddened by each other’s worldview, he because (in his mind) I am going to burn forever, I because that is such a silly (and creepy!) concept that I wish he could for just a moment recognize that. Further along in the discussion, he went on to tell me that I had given up reason; I laughed at the irony. I’ve finally learned to question things but I am the one without reason? During our discussion he brought up irreducible complexity, something I had just been familiarized with. I was still hazy on the details and, again, could not argue my point well. Seems my public speaking class did me no good after all. I’m just as ill-equipped to debate now as I was when I began it last Fall. Curses. Eventually, I will be a voice of reason and not just this little, timid, self conscious girl. Until then, I will continue to educate myself and learn as much as I can, including learning how to speak my mind.

For now, I will write.

Hope you enjoyed this week’s entry. If you have any ideas for a topic, let me know in the comments below.

Goals (or wishful thoughts) for 2013

Posted on by under Uncategorized

I do not make resolutions. I might have goals, but not resolutions. A resolution implies something needs be changed and that is not entirely true of my 2013 goals. I want to meet folks I have previously not had the chance to, read books I’ve never touched, create things… And write.

That last one could easily fall into “resolutions” as it is something I want to learn to stick to. I’m terribly lax as a writer. I write when the mood strikes me and not a moment before. Sometimes, I write two posts every day for five days but then not again for a month. This year, I plan to write one entry every week. I’m starting small… My Month of Thanks did not go so well on my other blog whydidyoubothertoreadthis.wordpress.com as evidenced by a single week of daily thanksgiving (as opposed to my projected thirty days of thanksgiving). In other words, I suck at having a writing schedule. No judging. So once a week, I will put pen to paper (fingers to keys, rather) and write an entry worthy of posting…. Or not worthy but I’ll post it just the same. I’m joking. I will try to have them be entries that interest my readers. If you have any suggestions for topics, I would more than appreciate it. Comment below with anything you’d like to read about.

Maybe singers are not the best role models, but they are still fun to meet. On my list for this new year, I would like to introduce myself to Matt Bellamy of Muse, Lana del Rey, and Zooey Deschanel of She and Him. Each of these artists I respect. I had the chance to meet Brandon Flowers, frontman for The Killers, this past December — he being the only other one who would be on this list — and it was quite an experience. There are other people I would like to meet that are not musical artists; these interest me more on an intellectual level than anything else.

1) Richard Dawkins — I would like to shake his hand, but, if not, I would settle to listen to him lecture. He has inspired me on so many levels,

2) Sam Harris — This man is the one responsible for kick starting my atheism. Naturally, I would like to thank him for granting me the ability to reason.

3) Barack Obama — While I do not agree with everything he does, he is still my president and I respect him.

Those are the main three I would like to meet.

My next goal is to devote more time to art. Luckily, I have a painting class this spring, so that is a viable option. I love art, modern art especially so. I love to paint it; I am just no good at painting though. Hopefully, I will learn a lot throughout this course and progress will be made. ;)

These are my unofficial goals of 2013. I’d love to hear yours!

Untitled

Posted on by under Politically Incorrect

Evil exists.

Bad, violent people exist.

This is a fact of nature. What is not a fact of nature is how easy it is for bad, violent people to get their hands on assault rifles. We are perfectly capable of minimizing the amount of violence that enters our schools across the nation; however, right-wingers disallow the method of containing said violence. Guns can be fun to use, for sport or hunting, but in the hands of the wrong crowd, are so incredibly dangerous that my question is this: Is it really worth the lives of our innocent youth to keep a few guns in your possession? How much more frequently we hear of these horrific events — Sandy Hook Elementary, for example, where 20 children under the age of ten were brutally shot; James Holmes opened fire in a theater in Colorado… Do you realize how many of these tragedies have occurred within the last seven years? The list contains 62 mass-murders. Sixty-two. Those were hundreds of lives lost due to needless violence, hundreds of innocent lives lost. (Follman, Aranson, and Pan 1)

Brad Plumer, a writer for The Washington Post, writes, “One theory is that certain types of killing sprees are somehow contagious.” (Plumer 1) From all outward appearances, I would have to agree. It does look that way. If these crimes are contagious, we need to address this issue and find the metaphorical vaccine. Over three quarters of the guns used by mass-murderers are legally in their possession at the time of the shooting (Follman, Aranson, and Pan 1). While this is not always the case, over three quarters of the time, it is. There are not enough regulations on gun ownership. America is voting on marijuana and gay marriage–neither of those should even be issues–while we face a crisis. Our children, our fucking kids are dying because we allow anyone to own a gun. Granted, Adam Lanza was not the owner of the guns used to massacre Sandy Hook Elementary but his mother, an avid gun enthusiast, was. (Cohen 1)

Why would the mother of a “disturbed child” (Paddock 1) be eligible to own guns? When your child has mental–whether mental health or disability–issues, your right to gun ownership should be nixed. Assault rifles. She owned assault rifles. What was the point? I do not blame her solely, but her love of weaponry led to the mass-murdering of school children, most were six years old. This is so disgusting. I cannot write anymore. I don’t want to, but I must.

“Guns don’t kill people; people kill people.” Bull. Terrible people kill others using guns. Guns are the weapon of choice. Guns need to be harder to purchase; they’ve done too much damage. Lisa Belkin of the Huffington Post writes, “We are heartbroken, yes. But saying that will fix nothing. It won’t bring anyone back, and it won’t stop this from happening again.” She goes on to say that we “cannot just hold our children close. We have to demand that our country earn the right to call our country a civilized nation.” (Belkin 1) And she’s absolutely right. Something must be done about this growing problem. How many more tragedies must we face before we finally get something done? Assault rifles have no place in residential areas. They should be banned from civilian use. They are unnecessary for hunting, useless in collections, and so terrible in the hands of the mentally unstable.

Evil exists. However, despite there being evil, there is also much good. Think of those teachers who gave their lives defending their young charges. They are who inspire me to be the best teacher I can be, a teacher who gives everything for her students. Goodness exists. We should try to emulate those remarkable teachers. We should never hold anything back and give what we can to those who need it.

————————————

Cohen, Andrew. “Guns, Parents and Sandy Hook: Time to Take The Bullet.” The Atlantic. 16 Dec. 2012. http://www.theatlantic.com/national/archive/2012/12/guns-parents-and-sandy-hook-time-to-take-the-bullet/266315/

Follman, Mark, Gavin Aronson and Deanna Pan. “A Guide to Mass Shootings in America.” Mother Jones: Politics. 15 Dec. 2012. http://www.motherjones.com/politics/2012/07/mass-shootings-map

Paddock, Gary. “Grisly details emerge in Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting as Newtown, Conn. mourns 26 slain by gunman Adam Lanza.” Daily News: US. 16 Dec. 2012. http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/hunt-motive-sandy-hook-elementary-shooting-article-1.1220914

Plumer, Brad. “Why Are Mass Shootings Becoming More Common?” Society’s Child: The Washington Post. 14 Dec. 2012 http://www.sott.net/article/254785-Why-are-mass-shootings-becoming-more-common

Christmas is a Time of Togetherness

Posted on by under Family Life

Christmas with the family will always be a hectic affair. Getting everyone ready for photos at the same time, making time for relations, heading off to the in-laws (or potential ones, in my case), all the baking…. Christmas is a stressful day. Let’s not even talk about the preparations required the weeks leading up to this national holiday. Yes, Christmas is a stress-inducing day. This being said, I want to talk about my mother:

What a trooper.

Year after year, she strives to make our day special. It is hard enough to get everyone at the dinner table these days between work and school, but an entire day of togetherness is even more difficult to come by. This reason is one that drives her. She gets up at four a.m. to prepare the breakfast of champions. Under normal circumstances this phrase means something similar to “a loser breakfast. I am broke. Don’t judge me.” But no. Not so in this context. I mean a breakfast of champions, kings… Puffed pancake (google it), stuffed mushrooms, clementines, shortbread, sausage and gravy, and apples and caramel dip, all served with hot tea or cider. She sets out the good dishes, the holiday special ones, carefully placing each one in its ideal location. After the table is set, she puts the gifts that she’s spent hours wrapping (to utter perfection) under the tree. [Yes, we don't see the presents until Christmas morning.] All of this she does for us, for me… She knows it is something I, especially, look forward to.

I assume you are aware of the five love languages–physical touch, time, words of affirmation, gifts, and acts of service–but that could be a strictly Christian perspective, so perhaps not. The way I show love is by gifts. I need to give the people I care about presents (which is why I always go broke at Christmastime). Without showing my love in that manner, I feel as if they will not know I love them. How do I like to receive love? Through time… (And touch…. But only ONLY if you are in my approved circle of love-givers; otherwise, it has been unsolicited and a violation of my space.) When my mother endeavors (act of service) to prepare this wonder, she is making time available for the rest of us to spend in joyful camaraderie. (Despite the stresses of life, my family rarely has squabbles or issues between us. We get along marvelously.) She is giving me the time I desire from everyone and herself. This is one reason she does it. I’m so so grateful for all her efforts through the years….

So this year, I’m giving her the day off.

She’s my mum whom I love dearly, after all.

Of Miracles and Magic

Posted on by under Religion

I’ve had discussions about the miraculous recently. Do you believe in miracles? Assuming you do, think about it this way: for every “miracle” granted you there is another person who was in the same situation that did not receive said “miracle”. I’ve always heard “God doesn’t pick favourites”, but how can this be true if He gives to some what he denies others? This means He either must be (A) cold-hearted, (B) unfair, or (C) imagined. Why would He choose to reward you for your faithful devotion of tithing 10% of what you earn over the child starving? or the one dying from cancer? child-prostitute? You drive a nice car; they wonder if they’ll live another week. You call your God “just” but that just is not so. If it were true that He was just, there would be no gap between billionaires and the impoverished. What one received, so would the rest.
….and people wonder why I do not view the god of the bible as a loving god.

This post is not long, but I had a thought while I drove home and knew I needed to write it down.

If you care to see any of my earlier posts, feel free to visit whydidyoubothertoreadthis.wordpress.com. I created this new one because I needed to detach myself from certain people who are aware of that old URL.

Much love,

R. E. Salvatore