24. For he that sheds his blood with me... better be straight.

It’s the stuff of movies.

A band of brothers rising up to liberate an enslaved nation from political tyranny. Military prowess wrapped in old-world glory, painted with a special forces brush, and shipped out on a heading that would forever change the face of warfare. The setting is ancient Thebes. A city-state regarded as the most powerful martial force in the world. Trumping even the Spartans in bravery, in vigor, and in skill, the single regiment responsible for their success is recognized today by civilians as it will one day be by historians and poets. Their battles will lead to a revolution in military tactics. Their devotion will become the measuring stick for the armies of the future. And when they die, their enemies will salute them with respect, erect monuments to their valor, and issue this warning to any who would scorn their methods, “Perish miserably, they who think that these men did or suffered aught disgraceful.”

They are the Sacred Band of Thebes, a core group of fighters comprised entirely of homosexual couples.

I’m sure you can guess where this is going.

More than 2300 years later, with America's healthcare debate (possibly) in its death throes, our focus as a nation shifts to yet another polarizing topic: the potential repeal of our military’s “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy prohibiting openly gay servicemen and women from serving in the armed forces. A grudging compromise between then-president Bill Clinton, the Department of Defense, and an oppositional Congress, the bill was a response to the brutal murder of gay U.S. Navy petty officer Allen R. Schindler, Jr; an effort to prevent the harassment and cruel treatment of soldiers based on sexual orientation while still recognizing that homosexuality innately creates "an unacceptable risk to the high standards of morale, good order and discipline, and unit cohesion that are the essence of military capability."

Though the magnanimous nature of this bill still escapes me (and probably you as well), no doubt many Americans see it as a good thing that our nation stands alone among the western and the wealthy as one that openly discriminates against military personnel. A divide in psychology, perhaps. But any honest debate on the exclusion of homosexuals for the betterment of cohesion has long been settled in the psychological field, as empirical evidence fails to show that "sexual orientation is germane to any aspect of military effectiveness; including unit cohesion, morale, recruitment and retention" (Belkin, 2003; Belkin & Bateman, 2003; Herek, Jobe, & Carney, 1996; MacCoun, 1996; National Defense Research Institute, 1993). Comparative data from foreign militaries and domestic police and fire departments show likewise that when lesbians, gay men and bisexuals are allowed to serve openly there is "no evidence of disruption or loss of mission effectiveness" (Belkin & McNichol, 2000–2001; Gade, Segal, & Johnson, 1996; Koegel, 1996).

So if it bears no impact on our armed forces... If to quote Consul David Saranga (on the issue of Israel’s policy allowing gays and lesbians to serve openly in the military) it is a “non-issue”... If you can be "a very good officer, a creative one, a brave one, and be gay at the same time”... what it is that really drives the dispute? What has allowed a glaring oversight in civil rights – and a sinkhole of wasted military funds – to continue for so many years unchecked?

Luckily, we’ve a plethora of religious leaders and conservative pundits to answer that question.

Homosexuality is immoral, they tell us. Allowing it to take place among our soldiers, the targets of hyper-masculinized ideals and textbook “alpha-dog” reverence, is simply unthinkable.

Let’s think about it, regardless.

Since its inception in 1993, DADT has been cited in the discharge of more than 13,000 troops. 619 of these discharges took place in 2008. The same year, more than 3000 military women were raped by their fellow servicemen. And those are just the ones we know about. The Pentagon estimates that 80% to 90% of sexual assaults go unreported – understandable, when you consider that only 8% of military cases end in prosecution (compared to 40% in civilian cases). 80% of those convicted are honorably discharged, despite their crimes. What this means is that, in 2008, 619 soldiers were dismissed from dedicated service to their country for non-criminal acts, while more than 2760 identified rapists (and a potential thousands more unidentified) were allowed to remain in that service. Give a moment for the math to set in.

What does it say about our moral view in terms of military operation when a soldier is more likely to be discharged for loving a fellow serviceman than for assaulting one?

Maybe ancient Thebes had it right all along.

A prominent Greek military figure, Epaminondas, considered the greatest warrior-statesmen of his time, and a member of the Sacred Band of Thebes, is noted by historians as having two male lovers: Asopichus and Caphisodorus. Caphisodorus died with him in a battle at Mantineia. They were buried together, something usually reserved for a husband and wife in Greek society.

Historian Plutarch later wrote that the formation of the Sacred Band may have been inspired by the words of Plato in his work Symposium:

“And if there were only some way of contriving that a state or an army should be made up of lovers and their loves, they would be the very best governors of their own city, abstaining from all dishonour, and emulating one another in honour; and when fighting at each other's side, although a mere handful, they would overcome the world. For what lover would not choose rather to be seen by all mankind than by his beloved, either when abandoning his post or throwing away his arms? He would be ready to die a thousand deaths rather than endure this. Or who would desert his beloved or fail him in the hour of danger?”

23. The Good, The Bad, and the Final Word

The long-standing argument is that science does not and cannot have a place in matters of morality. To draw a line from the following video, "How have we convinced ourselves that in the moral sphere, there is no such thing as moral expertise?"

22. "Calm yourself, Iago."

I'm not sure when it happened, but at some point in my adult life, I realized that intelligence is less a product of education, and more the learned and/or inherent ability to separate the bad information from the good. What is reasonable; what can be corroborated; and what takes one gander at the prospect of honest scrutiny and shrivels up like a salted slug.

Ew.

Throughout the ages, many have touted claims to knowledge about how things will unfold -- claims that any reasonable individual would recognize as improbable, if not outright impossible. A prime example of "bad information". The End of Days is a common theme for these predictions, and an ever-growing population of the religious and non-religious alike are tying this theme to a particular date. I like to think that anyone who may hop into this little closet-o-mine is far too intelligent to be lured in by this sort of (largely) internet-hysteria. But in the unlikelihood that you (or someone you know) may believe that 2012 will bring about the end of pot-smokers, monks, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Farscape reference, booya!), and Earth-ridden life as we know it, I give you NASA's official response to these heinous allegations.

"Nothing bad will happen to the Earth in 2012... [This] story started with claims that Nibiru, a supposed planet discovered by the Sumerians, is headed toward Earth. This catastrophe was initially predicted for May 2003, but when nothing happened the doomsday date was moved forward to December 2012. Then these two fables were linked to the end of one of the cycles in the ancient Mayan calendar at the winter solstice in 2012 -- hence the predicted doomsday date of December 21, 2012... Just as the calendar you have on your kitchen wall does not cease to exist after December 31, the Mayan calendar does not cease to exist on December 21, 2012. This date is the end of the Mayan long-count period but then -- just as your calendar begins again on January 1 -- another long-count period begins for the Mayan calendar."

21. Losing sucks.

"Haven't you ever lost anything, Dr. Bronx? Your purse? Your car keys? Well, it's rather like that: now you have it, now you don't." ~ Campbell [Medicine Man, 1992]

Some years back, a friend of mine made what would be his ultimate -- and ultimately final -- decision when he walked into a bathroom with a blade and never returned. As is often the case with male suicide, there was no warning. No history of depression; no traumatic event; and no slow, downward spiral to tip us off. Just the seemingly knee-jerk reaction of a man whose life had led him to believe he'd become a burden on his family. It is one of the reasons that men are typically more successful in suicide attempts than their female counterparts. No one can avert a calamity who cannot see it coming. Anyone who has survived such a tragedy knows all too well the psychology behind it.

That doesn't stop you from seeing culpability in your own non-action prior to the event.

It is perhaps lucky for me that I was working at the time. Surrounded by patrons and co-workers, no allowance was made for a full expression of shock and grief upon hearing the news. In the wake of a brief bathroom sob, I reapplied my makeup, hoisted the professional front, and shoved the unpleasant emotions into a deep, dark hole to be reassessed at a more convenient (and preferably solitary) hour.

Days passed before I addressed the issue at all. Then days turned into weeks.

On some level, I knew I was avoiding the unavoidable. It wasn't that I'd no prior dealings with death. Granted, this was the first suicide. But it was also the first time I'd suffered such loss... as an atheist. And to be perfectly honest, I had no idea how to deal with it. In the past, religious tradition had offered easy placations, but in this, the safety net was gone. For the first time, I was forced to face the issue head-on and alone, with no tools, no recourse.

No surprise then, that when it finally hit... it hit hard.

I won't go into details. Suffice it to say that somewhere between the screaming guilt, the rum, and the aimless-frustrations turned shouted-demands of my poor, bewildered husband, I realized that I was likely not alone in my poorly-channeled expressions of grief. While many sectors of the world have fulfilling and healthy customs regarding bereavement, the growth of the typical American child doesn't include a reconciliation with death outside the application of scripture. Our vulnerable senses hijacked by promises of reunion, we are taught to see death as a separation, a temporary and necessary parting in our journey unto paradise. Sadness and agony are postponed indefinitely. Thus, no one teaches the indoctrinated how to mourn -- truly mourn -- for outright loss. We are taught to wait. But never are we taught to cope.

A (somewhat-embittered, I'll admit) part of me can't help but see this glaring oversight in our emotional education as something of a crime. A pink-flowered band-aid schlumped noncommittally over a gaping wound.

What to do when it bleeds?

Paul Ekman, one of the world's leading experts on emotion and emotional expression stated in his (highly recommended) book Emotions Revealed, "I am much less certain that it benefits a person not to feel sadness or agony about the normal losses we all experience in life... Sadness and agony may help heal the loss, and without those feelings the suffering from the loss could endure longer."

I knew that this was no separation. No merry walkabout from which my friend would eventually return. This was the end. This was death. And I too had a choice to make -- one not so final as his, but a choice, nonetheless. I could spend my days wondering at his state in death, pining for a reunion that seemed untenable even by the most supernatural of standards; or I could honor both his life and his passing by treating it as a genuine loss.

Then an amazing thing happened. Life moved on. And I with it.

When my husband's grandmother died the following year, the tools I'd once thought lost were readily available. For my husband as well. We cried, like everyone else. Then found ourselves smiling at her memory, far sooner than everyone else. The same occurred more recently, with the loss of my own aunt, and then my grandmother.

Loss is painful. There is no way around that. And while it seems a comfort to say that those we've lost are waiting for us beyond the veil -- I can't help but feel that sentiment deprives us of an honest emotional experience, and the transition through it. I imagine that many a widow and widower alike have spent a great deal of their lives waiting to reunite with those they once loved, an event that they believe will take place only after they die. How tragic does it seem to live with one hopeful eye toward the grave? I cannot say that the non-religious alternative is easier. I can say, however, as one who has experienced both sides of bereavement, that it feels... healthier, and far more sincere.

Someone once asked me how it is that an atheist can deal with loss. I suppose as a trite reference to the quotation above (because I'm just that kind of gal), I can only say that a person who has lost their keys will waste countless hours, even days, in the hopes of recovering them. A person who knows that they are gone, will cast them anew.

20. Say it with me.

It's a little thing, really. A personal pet peeve. One that shouldn't bother me nearly no much as the oft-misstated "Elementary, my dear Watson"s, "Beam me up, Scotty"s, and "Play it again, Sam"s of the world. (Note to future screenwriters everywhere: none of those lines were ever spoken by their ascribed iconic characters, and therefore cannot be quoted. So, for the sake of my sanity. Stop doing it.) Still, I can count almost daily -- sometimes by the dozens -- the number of times someone refers to a book in the bible that.... does not exist. You hear it on TV. On street corners. Even on movies, where you know that hundreds to thousands of separate individuals must have passed over this little inaccuracy either without noticing, or without knowing the difference.

Call it a public service. More accurately, call it a trivial, OCD-induced rant from a former librarian who will likely conclude this post with a childish snort and a grab for the last piece of Christmas fudge. Still, I feel compelled to at least put it out there.

The last book in the Bible is not Revelations. It's Revelation. Just one. Not plural. No "s".

As I said, it's a little thing. But it drives my poor, compulsive senses absolutely bat-shit. Seriously, it's worse than nails on a chalk board, or biting into tin foil. I view it the way a dog views a vacuum. It's that bad. So if you really feel the need to quote from this particular codex, at least quote it correctly. Please?

Thank you.

I'ma go see about that fudge, now.

19. An Atheist's Christmas Prayer

For weeks now, we’ve all shared a similar American experience. Crowded stores and rushed traffic pacified only by lamppost holiday lights and random greeting cards from those relatives we’d all but forgotten we had. Spirits lifted by music and familial warmth, we avoid caloric overload as best we can. Spirits dampened by thoughts of those who are no longer here to share in our oddly-enjoyable hysteria, we make a hog-like mess of the divinity and peanut brittle on our collective countertops. Some of us -- (me) -- even spend the entire season pointedly wearing Santa hats and adorning our shoes with jingly bells.

Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.

That’s right. Odd as it may seem for Little-Miss-Atheist, the Christmas season is my favorite time of year. Bar none. It’s a holiday that transforms my house into a very interesting place, to put it mildly. My sweet husband tolerates my compulsive need for round-the-clock Christmas carols – largely by vacating the house as much as possible. My son alternates between relieved and terrified that his mother has suddenly become the cheeriest woman on the block. I smile more. I bake more. And, believe it or not, I sing the religious hymns as loudly and as gleefully as every reindeer and Santa mash-up that dashes its way across the radio.

That said, I’ve been sitting on this post for weeks. Partly because I wasn’t sure how to address the topic without sounding dry or self-indulgent. Mostly because I didn’t know whether I had anything to contribute to what has apparently become a controversial subject; and even if I did… whether or not I could adequately express my feelings is another matter entirely.

We all know by now (or at least, we damn well SHOULD) that winter festivals have occurred throughout recorded history; longer, unless I miss my guess. Today we call it Christmas, Hanukkah, or Kwanzaa. Yesterday we called it Yule, Epiphany, or Saturnalia. Whether it’s a preparation for Wild Hunt, a hopeful salute to the season’s Solstice, a visit from the magi, or even an old Norse feast marked by the sacrificial bloodletting of horses and cattle – the lore and legends are meant to inspire hope for the future, a bit of warmth to pull us through the long nights and harsh weather. Gathering together to consolidate our status as a family, or a community, or a society is a profoundly human need. A deeply-rooted desire that, when fulfilled, leaves us renewed and emotionally capable of moving forward.

In our fledgling years as a civilization, it is events like these that quite literally kept us alive – simply by keeping us together. What happened, then, to turn it into a month-long effort to pull us apart?

Every year, opinion pages, blogs, and announcements across America light up with people desperate to take sides; erecting walls between “Merry Christmas” and “Happy Holidays”, decorated trees and interpretations of tradition. People yell. People push and defend. Turning it into a private war rather than a public celebration.

Again, I have to ask…. What happened?

There is an easy answer, of course. But it is… too easy. I gain nothing from it and neither do you.

So instead, to bridge the gap, to take my small step toward the world peace being wistfully sung for on iPods the nation over, I – an outspoken atheist, rationalist, and skeptic – want to send this small Christmas prayer into the electronic void, not expecting any response. Not really expecting anyone to understand. But hoping I’m wrong on both counts.

This Christmas, I pray that the struggle over the “true meaning” of the holiday is wiped away, replaced by the desire to honor what Christmas means to you and not to your neighbors.
I pray that we as a nation can learn to put aside the party lines and shields of segregation to leave the world better than we found it.
I pray that we as a race can learn to prosper without greed, without indifference.
I pray that the good times outweigh the bad, and that we enter the lives of those we are lucky enough to encounter with the grace and respect that everyone deserves, regardless of their status, regardless of our creed.
I pray we wake up one day with the recognition that – black or white, rich or poor, religious or not – we all want the same things, even if we disagree on how best to achieve them.
I pray that those who need shelter will find it.
I pray that those in pain will find an end to suffering.
I pray for peace.
I pray for hope.
Most of all, I pray that tomorrow will be better than it was today.
For all of us.

18. "I Got F#@&in' No Dukes."

There can be no doubt that a schism exists in America between backers of evidence and supporters of a certain religious philosophy – almost to the point that either of them can be caricaturized, labeled with stickers reading “science” and “god,” and released like monstrous mutts into the populace, squelching all opportunities for advancement with needless conversation and easily-raised ire. After a time, the resulting splash damage leads otherwise rational people to build a wall between themselves and what they are willing to believe.

Here I am on the tail end of several evolutionary theory-themed posts, knowing they won’t be the last, and wondering whether evidence for its own sake is enough to turn the tide on this conversation. Because even though I, like Kathy Griffin, find it increasingly bizarre that fact is somehow subject to philosophy in our corner of the world; I recognize, having been raised in an acutely religious environment, the threat that is posed by alternate, more plausible, explanations of origin. It isn’t so much that science labels these explanatory models as “theories” opening the argument to semantics, nor is it that the scientific method forces an honesty that leaves us shying away from treating them as absolutes. The problem is posed by the evidence itself. The mere existence of fact and information undermines the bible’s efficacy – something that doesn’t sit well with a large percentage of American citizens. So we have edited text books, teachers who enter into lawsuits rather than support a non-religious version of history, and teachers as targets of parental disgust for doing the opposite. We have moderate proponents arguing that both sides are viable in the classroom, while others see that with a tad less... shall we say, optimism:




By now, both sides have reason to bury their heads in the sand and stay there until the storm dies down – something that doesn’t look likely to happen any time soon.

I can’t help but wonder whether this scene is playing out in other nations as well. Likely, it isn’t occurring to this degree.

The real question I suppose is: can all of this be avoided? Possibly. Like most individuals, rationalists have no beef with the personal opinions and philosophies of others. What others chose to teach their children in the privacy of their own home may be a subject of some irritation, but for the most part, it has little bearing on the global field of understanding. It is when an archaic belief system is allowed to dictate public policy and the course of education that ignoring the storm ceases to be an option.

Neil deGrasse Tyson said, "I, like Ptolemy, am humbled in the presence of our clockwork universe. When I am on the cosmic frontier, and I touch the laws of physics with my pen, or when I look upon the endless sky from an observatory on a mountaintop, I well up with an admiration for its splendor. But I do so knowing and accepting that if I propose a God beyond that horizon, one who graces our valley of collective ignorance, the day will come when our sphere of knowledge will have grown so large that I will have no need of that hypothesis."

Such an articulate and beautiful sentiment. Would that it could be shared by everyone.

17. Who needs monkeys?

Some things are simply too brilliant for words. Case in point:

16. This just in...

The Other Closet has been added to The Atheist Blogroll. You can see the blogroll in my sidebar. The Atheist blogroll is a community building service provided free of charge to Atheist bloggers from around the world. If you would like to join, visit Mojoey at Deep Thoughts for more information.

15. A Million Monkeys and Youtube Contributions

Every so often, tumbling through the "series of tubes" that (everyone knows) comprises the internet, I come across a site or a video that very accurately portrays the typical arguments posed by theists with regards to atheism. This one, for example:



Then comes the age-old question, the pivotal choice between responding to the daisy chain of logical fallacies, or simply bemoaning our educational system for allowing these tragedies to occur. Since I don't possess the tolerance for trolls and link-spams (not to mention creepy-dim lighting, or a spastic webcam), I'll likely never join the Youtube bandwagon. But I'm fairly certain that's why Al Gore invented blogs.

The Anti-Atheist Argument, Deconstructed:

[0:00 -- 0:50] Mentions the "creation" of the universe in conjunction with the "creation" of Earth/planets/humans, ignoring correlation or the passage of time. In cosmological terms, Earth is only a recent addition to the universe -- and the development of Homo Sapiens might as well have happened this morning. Darwin's "fairy tale" bears no connection whatsoever to the origin of planets.

[0:58] This quote of evolutionary theory having “done nothing to help the progress of science” is not only a ludicrous thing to say – its source could not be located. I did scrounge up a quote stating that no single theory can be credited with the progression of science, rather that science is furthered by the accumulation of theories that continue to hold water. Possibly misconstrued quote-mining. Either way, an argument via slogan isn't a valid one.

[1:06] Darwin “wasn’t a scientist?” Curious as to the definition here. In terms of practice, he was the scientific method personified. If you’re speaking in terms of education, Darwin began his college studies in the field of medicine – and only left to study theology because he couldn’t stomach the era’s surgical procedures. It should also bears mentioning: he was indeed a minister, once. He didn't die as one. Wonder why that is....? Hmm. *Cheeky Eye Roll*

[1:22] “I’m gonna create my own theory.” The theory was a product of observation, recording, and study across many years – and a shared pursuit of several scientists at the time. (Wallace, for one – who published similar papers immediately following Darwin's.) It was not a willful attempt at rebellion, and struggling to paint it as such does nothing to further your argument. Whether or not his theory coincided with the notion of god was a very personal battle for him, one that lasted for a great many years. In the end, he realized that beliefs should be molded to the facts, not the other way around.

[1:38] “Threw out some queries.” Oh dear. A scientist being humble. For shame. 150 years of hardcore testing and evidence-investigation, and the ideas, along with their explanatory and predictive capabilities, still hold true. Very few “ideas and queries” can be said to have remained as congruent.

[1:53] Making a religion of Darwin’s dangerous idea. This one rears its ugly head a lot with regards to evolution. A puzzling method of attack, and one that may well be unique to America. Religious crowds do not ever accuse backers of gravitational theory, germ theory, or the theory of plate-tectonics (i.e. – nearly… everyone) as being followers of a “religion”. Odd, that.

[1:59] “Hope?” … Again, I find myself puzzled. Following the evidence. Has nothing to do with personal desire. This may underpin an important distinction between brain types as well. The ability to separate your own impressions and beliefs from your scientific observations is crucial to the integrity of knowledge.

[2:12] “There should be evidence.” YES! Exactly, there definitely should! And there definitely is. Libraries-worth of documented, verified evidence.

[2:40] “No transitional forms?” You’re…. you’re kidding on this one, right? Because EVERY bone and fossil found has fit in perfectly with evolutionary theory. Every one. http://www.talkorigins.org/faqs/faq-transitional.html Some have even been predicted by evolutionary theory PRIOR to being discovered. http://chem.tufts.edu/AnswersInScience/evo_science.html So, please tell me you’re kidding, ‘cause… ‘Cause I’ve no hope for my son’s education if you’re not.

[3:14] “Leave MY theory alone!” Hey, now. You started it. Besides, you’re kinda forcing us to be cruel on this one. You’re willfully choosing to remain in the dark with regards to the facts, and you're using scientific vernacular as though it holds the same meaning in lay-speak. It doesn’t. In scientific terms, the “fact” label is not an easy thing to come by. The transition from “idea” to “hypothesis” to “theory” can take decades, even centuries to achieve. Larger explanatory models have always been – and may always be – dubbed as “theories”. Theories are comprised of facts, proven-viable, tested, peer-reviewed, and re-tested. They have to stand up in the face of everything we know concerning the workings of the world. The evidence gathered in the wake of proposed theories MUST support the theory, else it does not SURVIVE as a theory. Evolution as an ongoing process is a fact. It is observable. It is verifiable. It is in yer face. Evolution as origin will likely always be called a theory, because science has a higher standard than the world at large. God, however, cannot maintain his efficacy beyond the “hypothesis” stage. I cannot leave your theory alone. Because you do not have one.

[3:44] “Lucy fraud” – The knee-joint claim is an empty accusation. Zero controversy exists here. “Nebraska man” was more likely to have been a mistake than a fraud, classification was given in 1922 and was corrected in 1925 – not by god, but by scientists who continued researching the claim even after making it. Highlighting again the superior methods of science vs. religion, where evidence is valued over belief. None of the examples here cast any doubt whatsoever on evolution -- dealing solely with human ancestry, which branch fits where, and whatnot. You will see shown in the image below a current listing for these known branches, each of which are filled to the frothing brim with fossils and full skeletons (many numbering well into the hundreds) proving their efficacy.

[3:48] Far from being an example of “terrible science” – is a shining example of how the scientific method reveals the truth.

[4:02] “Make the choice to let go of evidence.” Ah, the heart of theism, summed in a sentence. Brought a tear to my eye.

[5:05] “Are you willing to let go of it, if it isn’t true?” Absolutely. In a second. And every atheist, skeptic, and scientist alike will say the same. Our only interest is in understanding the world for what it is, not what we wish it to be. Give us the evidence, the theories will duke it out on a national, public stage, winner-take-all while the loser is stricken from the text books. Intelligent Design, which I’m guessing you may well support, tried its hand at this. But again, ID isn’t a theory. It’s a failed hypothesis.

[5:17] Nobel. Pronounced no-bell. Not… noble.

[5:55] Design from complexity, and the notion of randomness. Ugh. By this point, I just want to pat the poor video on its exploiting-failures-of-perception-as-justification-for-ludicrous-notions head. We evolved to see patterns where none exist, and to ascribe human characteristics, or purpose-driven descriptions to inanimate things. It happens to the best of us. Read the following, and we’ll talk again, mkay?

[6:27] The "cell is absolutely useless if the information varies?" WHAT? Oh my. *Vigorously Refers Speaker to Afore-Mentioned Books*

[6:48] Pointing to the “impossibility” (think she means to say “improbability”) of chance. Three issues here – well, actually FAR more than two, but I’m trying to be concise. One) natural selection is the furthest thing from accidental occurrences. Two) backwards calculations of statistical probabilities nearly always yield borderline-impossible results – even when there AREN’T a vast number of glaringly obvious inaccuracies to fuel them, as with your Kinko’s/NYC comparison. Three) if the whole of the debate hinges on likelihoods, Occam's Razor clearly favors science here. The odds that all the rules of nature have unknowingly been suspended in order to allow for a supernatural deity of ANY sort, let alone your particular version of a praise-worthy deity, are... improbable.

[7:30 – 8:58] This one has become a slogan in its own right. Yay for irreducible complexity! Yay for debunked, bogus notions! But no, seriously, yay for the science that blows this shit out of the water. The flagellum described here? Not irreducibly complex. Nothing is.

[8:58 – 10:32] Ayup, I know. You don’t like us, and you don’t like our silly reliance on evidence and reason. We get that.

I do have to say, it's partly nice to see the religious masses at least making an attempt at scientific discussions and evidence-based arguments. I've a hope that the "science" and "evidence" parts will eventually show themselves, but I'm not exactly holding my breath.

But here's the overall issue with this video -- apart from the many flaws listed above, of course -- it seems to argue that atheism is somehow contingent on the truth of evolution as a theory. If that were even remotely the case, my blog would state little enough to nothing, because I'd be leaving the issue to geneticists, paleontologists, and... people like Kirk Cameron. (Oh dear. We'd best not venture there, even on a sarcastic basis.) My atheism came from reason, and from an understanding of religious history. My husband's arose from the realization that 99% of the world's religions have been banished as myths, though once were followed as vigorously as today's theists follow Christianity, Islam, or Judaic beliefs. Many atheists have come to the conclusion philosophically, still others, for emotional and moral reasons. In terms of deconstructing atheism, every argument offered can only be... woefully inadequate.

Proving evolution does indeed discredit the accounts in the bible as accurate portrayals of origin. And much of the world, the one that exists beyond American borders, has already recognized and accepted those inaccuracies. But disproving evolution doesn't point to the existence, or even the rational justification, of a god.

14. Silly social movements -- labels are for kids.

Recently, I watched a video of the presentations given at the 2007 AAI Convention, and was pleasantly surprised (though I probably shouldn’t have been) by the ever-contrary nature of Sam Harris’ speech. In it, he very honestly asked us – as atheists – to question the wisdom of outwardly calling ourselves “atheists”. For the large-and-growing movement of reason and science to advance in the rapid way that it should, he proposed, we needed to circumvent the prepared arguments, the prejudices, and the blatantly-oppositional propaganda that seems to crop up whenever the world at large hears that particular term.

Wha---huh?!? Not call ourselves “atheists”? After all this time, all of these efforts in trying to draw our neighbors-in-arms (or at least, in-philosophy) from the shadows? I was confounded. I was chagrined.

And, from a societal standpoint, I agreed with him.

More than once, I’ve listed here the ways in which that one little word can hamper a conversation – or, indeed – a relationship. To say nothing of an entire social movement. He was justified in pointing out the sticky truth, which is: to an adamant believer, the term is more than a stumbling block… it’s code for “DANGER, WILL ROBINSON, DANGER! Executing terminal shutdown of all input capabilities!” (… A little much? Yeah, you’re probably right.) Besides, we don’t deign to give ourselves labels with regards to our belief in fairies or unicorns, Thor or Apollo – and doing so when it comes to today’s brand of mysticism seems to lend it an odd sort of credence. Einstein never referred to himself as an atheist, though for all intents and purposes he was one, because (he once stated) he didn’t quite share their “fervor” when it came to open conversation or religious debunking. And, it should be said, Mr. Harris himself has managed to bend many an ear to our cause without ever having called himself an "atheist" either.

But then again…

I have only my own experiences to draw from. As you know by now, I am little more than a housewife in a back-water section of the world, surrounded by people whose religious tolerances (or lack thereof) would just as soon see me tarred as glance my way; and that may well have tarnished my perspective of the issue – giving me a belief that wouldn’t survive a transition to the national stage. But when it came to a mirror-facing throw-down with myself as to whether or not I stood with Mr. Harris… I was forced to realize that I didn’t.

For many years, I shied away from calling myself an atheist. And for those many years, I didn’t have the conversations I should have been having. My religious friends and family approached my non-religious nature the same way a Lakers fan might address someone who’s just not that into sports: “no biggie, pick another topic of conversation, she’s not really… NOT religious – she just ain’t settled in to the right church yet.” Even putting forth my meager arguments as I did, absent the “OMG, NOOOO” label (as I’m pretty certain some would call it), my views seemed to lack the weight of… I’ll call it sincerity, for I can’t seem to dredge up a better word at the moment. Absent atheism, the person-to-person world didn’t seem to think I was all that invested. But by sporting the title, I somehow opened the floodgates and thereby the lines of communication. Those same friends and family began defending their views in earnest. Books were exchanged, debates were held, and (very occasionally) I’d earn the satisfaction of knowing someone’s perspective of atheism had been altered for the better.

Strangely, and happily, I like atheism. I like calling myself an atheist. I like knowing that the world, and maybe even our religious nation, are on the verge of accepting the novel notion that maybe we aren’t what we’ve seemed, from the other side of historical-biases. And, even after an honest and careful consideration of this argument, I can stand by my self-affirmation – and my call to you, and to those who share your views, to declare yourselves as I have – with something approaching… confidence.

The advancement of reason, of evidence, of fact-based intelligence, needs our support. And, if I may venture to say as much Mr. Einstein, I think the world needs our fervor, too.

13. Something Familiar; Something Peculiar; Something for Everyone!

One of my favorite quotes is something plucked from a Time Magazine interview with Richard Dawkins, wherein he stated:

“What I am skeptical about is the idea that whatever wonderful revelation does come in the science of the future, it will turn out to be one of the particular historical religions that people happen to have dreamed up… it does seem to me to be a worthy idea. Refutable – but nevertheless grand and big enough to be worthy of respect. I don’t see the Olympian gods or Jesus coming down and dying on the cross as worthy of that grandeur. They strike me as parochial. If there is a god, it’s going to be a whole lot bigger and a whole lot more incomprehensible than anything that any theologian of any religion has ever proposed.”

Love that.

He’s right, of course. If there were anything awe-inspiring about an old white guy in bronze-age jammies, I suspect we’d see more of them in big-budget films. Imagine: Jesus reprising the greatest roles of Marlon Brando, Al Pacino, and Chuck Norris – a fish in one hand, an animal-skin scroll in the other, making Vin Diesel cry… More from shame than from fear, I'd guess. Still… I smell money, there. Cartoon Network, I hope you’re paying attention.

As I write this, I realize that many who’ve rejected the current brand of mythology aren’t ready to make that open leap, and may benefit from a transitional form of fable. Now, we have Bertrand Russell’s flying teapot, and the Invisible Pink Unicorn – but those are for illustrative purposes concerning that which cannot be seen/disproven, and in practice, run counter to entire notion of skepticism. But not to worry. To those lovely individuals, I suggest having a go at some on-the-fly religious invention.

I’ll go first.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you… The Visible Pink Dolphin.

The first thing you’ll note in the grand list of “Reasons My God is Superior to Abraham’s” is this: I’ve documented proof of his existence. You can see him, touch him – even hop in the water and give him a tickle, if you’re so inclined (you weirdo). Second, hearing his voice isn’t indicative of failing medication or anointed wisdom; and can be recorded for future reference, so there’s no potential break-down in communication when his orders (pertaining to the all-important salvation of every living thing) are conveyed through a single, very-fallible, very-corruptible individual. Third, he’ll never frown on you. It’s anatomically impossible for him to do anything but smile in your general direction. Fourth, he’s no intention of ever directing your life. Whether or not you snarf down a bit of bacon on a Friday or accidentally brush up against a bed that’s housed a menstruating female (gasp) has very little to do with him. Fifth, he’ll never ask of you any unseemly thing; like sacrificing your first-born son, or ramming a plane into a building. (To say nothing of the whole “Job” incident.) Best of all, no tithing! Apparently, cash and sea water aren't a brilliant mix. As such, the most he’ll ever expect is that you toss the beach ball back into the water from time to time, when you’ve the occasion. And lastly, no cumbersome, inapplicable manifesto to memorize, even in select chunks. His entire philosophy can be summed up in Sam Cooke’s “Twistin’ the Night Away”.

From here, you can invent rituals as you see fit (they're important, I'm told), so long as you change them on a daily basis. It's good to keep things fresh, and will seem a nice change when compared to practices that have stagnated since their conception, eons past, when individuals (whose mental-prowess was doubtless inferior to yours) developed them. Just make sure they’re suitably absurd – the more brow-raising a religion is, the more credibility it seems to garner. Touching your nose to the floor or ensuring your meat is taken from a cud-chewing creature hasn’t much on using your lunch break to submerge your head in the sink for a bit of mid-day fin-worship or, better yet, standing from your desk at random intervals to shout “Sea World is the highest form of blasphemy”.

And remember, when they call you out on your chosen brand of insanity, don’t be discourteous… Return the favor.