The sky is awesome; therefore, God.

A tweet from a twit:

I can see how it might be possible for a man to look down upon the earth and be an atheist, but I cannot conceive how he could look up into the sky, and say there is no God.

And I can't conceive of how anyone would think that the mere fact that the sky is awesome is evidence of God.

Win an atheist's soul at the UMBC SSA Soul Auction

Buy an atheist's soul! Here's your chance to try to save an atheist from...um...whatever you think atheists are heading towards. 

Attend the "Soul Auction" at Quadmania! and win a chance to take an atheist to church or other area religious event. 

(Or, although I don't know this for sure, if you aren't real keen on going to church yourself, maybe you could negotiate a chance to, say, take an atheist to a bagpipe recital (no offense to bagpipe players but...) or perhaps watch Fox News for an hour with you, or something else equally likely to be a potentially life-changing, albeit, perhaps anxiety-provoking experience for the atheist.)

The UMBC Secular Student Alliance (UMBC SSA) will be auctioning off the souls of officers and members on Saturday, April 16, from 1 PM - 4 PM at the UMBC Quad.

Proceeds from winning bids will be donated to Doctors Without Borders/Medecins Sans Frontieres, so even if you feel atheist souls are icky, and not something you'd especially want to own, even for an hour, you'll still be helping a good cause.

An Atheist Walks into a Church—Hemant Mehta comes to UMBC

Hemant Mehta, The Friendly Atheist (as opposed to the baby-eating sort of atheist), spoke on the topic "An Atheist Walks into a Church" at UMBC on Wednesday, April 30, sponsored by the UMBC Secular Student Alliance (UMBC SSA).

Hemant spoke to an audience of about 70, most of whom appeared to be students. While having a mostly-student audience at an event sponsored by a UMBC student organization is a good thing, it's a shame that more people from the community weren't there, both to hear Hemant and to meet a great group of students.

I wish I could report that there was a shockingly obscene inappropriate punchline to the title of the talk. There wasn't. What there was was a lighthearted and entertaining look at Hemant's journey on the way to writing I Sold My Soul on eBay, and what happened as a result of the book's publication.

I hadn't heard the story behind Hemant's book before, and it is both amusing and amazing. Some of it is told on his blog.

The short, oh-my-paper-is-due-tomorrow-so-I-need-to-read-a-summary-because-I-didn't-read-the-book recap is that Hemant, who knew little about any faith except his boyhood's Jainism, decided he wanted to learn more about other faiths, and thought a good way to learn might be by visiting Chicago area churches.

To publicize his Church-going project, he set up an eBay auction in which he promised to attend a church of the winner's choice for one day for each $10 bid.

 

Jim Henderson, an Evangelical Christian, former minister, and founder of Off the Map, posted the winning bid of $504 (to Hemant's horror, by the way—at 1 day of church for every $10 bid, that meant the winner could require him to go to church every week for almost a year).

Then, The Wall Street Journal picked up on the story and apparently decided an article could draw more readers if the headline read: "On eBay, an Atheist Puts His Own Soul On the Auction Block," rather than, say, "Atheist Offers to Go to Church for an Hour per $10 Bid." Hemant quipped that he didn't do that because he doesn't believe he has a soul. But publicity about his auction did take off, and eventually led to an offer to write a book about his church-going experiences.

What added to the pleasure of the evening was the audience's reaction to some of the highlights of Hemant's talk. It was nice to be with a large group of people who responded appropriately and rationally.

They groaned when Hemant mentioned he was invited to appear on Kirk Cameron's radio show, and he'd agreed to appear—before he checked into what Cameron was doing career-wise after the end of Growing Pains. 

The audience laughed when Hemant showed the infamous Ray Comfort-Kirk Cameron banana video, and again when Hemant mentioned that I Sold My Soul on eBay won a Christian book contest that was conducted by...an online poll. (If you read PZ Myers' blog Pharyngula, you know what can happen.) 

And they laughed yet again when Hemant showed a photo of a cute baby in a bun, apparently ready to be eaten.

Although I saw some snacking by audience members, nary an actual baby—fresh, roasted, or fried, with or without a bun—was in sight.

Help Japan, Donate and..., Part 3

More suggestions on ways to help Japan as it would be to "donate and pray":

From Rey Fox:

• Donate and rearrange the pictures on your wall.
• Donate and ride your bicycle to the cell phone store.
• Donate and eat a hard-boiled egg.
• Donate and recite Marc Antony's soliloquy from Julius Ceasar in Basque.
• Donate and do fourteen somersaults.
• Donate and contemplate the sound of one hand clapping.

From SteveV, Death's Haberdasher:

• Donate and join a Morris Dancing Team
• Donate and chase a cheese

Help Japan, Donate and..., Part 2

Since my post yesterday, listing some of my ideas as to how people could help Japan as effectively as "donating and praying," some others have made suggestions:

From Caine, Fleur du mal:

• Donate and down a shot. Down a shot for every donation. Drinking game!
• Donate and make love.
• Donate and bake chocolate bacon cookies.
• Donate and hug your pet.
• Donate and look at a pretty picture of a rainbow.
• Donate and dress up.
• Donate and go out on the town.
• Donate and take deep, cleansing breaths.
• Donate and cry huge crocodile tears.
• Donate and rub iodine on your belly.

From Part-Time Insomniac, Death's Zombie Pet Porcupine:

• Donate and wear silk panties.
• Donate and ride a unicycle naked.
• Donate and sing "I Feel Pretty" while hopping on one foot.
• Donate and twirl a hula-hoop on each arm while gargling.

If you have other good ideas on way to help Japan as effectively as "donating and praying," please consider adding them to the comments. Then, after considering, add them.

Help Japan. Donate and....

I see quite a bit of complaining on Facebook and Twitter about atheists daring to post that they don't think prayer will help Japan. The objections are that by saying "Your prayers aren't helping Japan," atheists are pushing their beliefs on believers, they're insensitive to believers, they're attacking believers, and/or they're proselytizing for atheism.

Surprisingly, not one of the complaining "Pray for Japan" posters/tweeters ever considered that by telling atheists in thousands of posts and tweets, "Pray for Japan," that they were doing exactly what they are accusing atheists of doing. Were any of you "Pray for Japan" posters/tweeters concerned about how I'd feel receiving all those "Pray for Japan" posts and tweets?

And, yeah, saying "Prayer isn't going to help" is so much more mean-spirited than your tweets saying, "God is going to burn you for eternity in hell." (Ooo, your mythology really scares me. [That's sarcasm.] The fact that a rational, thinking person believes in mythology and acts accordingly, now that scares me. [That's not sarcasm.]

How is stating that I think prayer isn't going to help Japan attacking you or persecuting you?

I've also heard some whining comments asking "What's wrong with donating and praying?" If it makes you feel better than donating alone, have at it. Because the praying is ultimately all about you and how it makes you feel, not Japan.

But you could also:

• Donate and dance naked in the moonlight, or
• Donate and wear socks that don't match, or
• Donate and read Green Eggs and Ham to your pet, or
• Donate and rub a lucky rabbit's foot, or
• Donate and consult with Punxsutawney Phil, or
• Donate and sacrifice sausages to Offler, or
• Donate and talk to the pixies in your garden, or
• Donate and toss pennies in a wishing well, or
• Donate and tweet how awful atheists are, or...any number of things that won't help Japan more than donating alone would.

Next, you'll be posting and tweeting how awful I am for ridiculing you.

Help Japan, don't pray

I heard the first news report of the Japanese quake shortly after it happened around 1 AM EST today.

I knew what would follow that report, and it was exactly what, in fact, followed: On Facebook, lots of posts saying, "Pray for Japan!" and on Twitter, tweet after tweet, "#PrayforJapan."

I want to ask my friends who sent those, why would I pray? Why would you pray?

Every one of you who encouraged me to "pray for Japan" believes in a God who is all-knowing and all-powerful.

So, your God knew before the beginning of time that the earthquake and resulting tsunami would occur and unleash devastation and massive suffering. If you deny that, then your God isn't all-knowing, is he?

And since he is all-powerful, he could have stopped it. He could have planned a scenario other than the disaster that unfolded earlier today. If you deny that, then your God isn't all-powerful now, is he?

But your God either caused the earthquake and tsunami, or at best, simply let it happen. Your God, by his action and/or inaction, is ultimately responsible for the disaster. That makes your God a sadist. An abuser. A cruel, immoral monster. And this is the God you pray to? This is the God you're always describing as "loving"? (Perhaps you and/or your God have a definition of "loving" that is completely incomprehensible to me.)

And what is it you hope to accomplish by praying?

Doesn't your God already know people are suffering? Doesn't your God also already know that your hearts have been touched and saddened by the tragedy? Why do you have to tell him in prayer?

Does he like to hear his "special creation" beg for his help before he'll provide it?

Or does he, like an abusive parent, just prefer to hear you beg for mercy, "Please, stop!"?

Or are your prayers in thanks for your God's not killing more people or causing more suffering? Are you actually saying, "Thank you for not hurting more people or not hurting them worse than you already have"? or "Thank you for sparing me and those that I love"? or perhaps, "Please don't hurt me like you hurt the people in Japan"?

And when you pray for Japan, you'd like your God to do what? Help? Why would your God help now? If your God hadn't wanted the suffering and devastation to occur, he wouldn't have allowed it to happen in the first place.

Which brings up back to: if God has always had a plan, can you change it by praying? Isn't the course of history already set? What good do your prayers do?

Those of you praying for miracles, let me know when one occurs. And, no, anything that can be explained by science, or math, or as sheer random coincidence is not a miracle. Unexpectedly finding survivors isn't a miracle. Finding one house still standing, while all the neighboring homes were destroyed, is not a miracle. Someone finding their beloved pet still alive, or their wedding photos in the rubble, is not a miracle.

You know what might be a miracle? If, after you prayed, your God reversed all the damage in Japan. Brought all the dead (human, other animals, and plants) back to life. Healed all the injured. Repaired all the damage done to the environment. Replaced all the buildings and fixed all the other objects that were ruined or damaged. Do you think he will? Do you think he can't? Or isn't your God powerful enough to do big, noticeable, meaningful miracles?

Yes, I understand your sense of helplessness in the wake of such a horrific disaster. Totally. And I understand that you take comfort in prayer. But using prayer to make you feel like you're doing something to help, and your being comforted by prayer, doesn't do a darn practical thing to help those in Japan.

At first, not one of the early Facebook posts or tweets from you "Pray for Japan" posters mentioned doing anything but praying. Some of you still haven't.

Only the atheists who I follow on Twitter, or who are my Facebook friends, immediately suggested doing something that might actually help the people of Japan—making a donation to disaster relief organizations—providing evidence, once, again, of atheist immorality, inability to be compassionate, and shocking lack of ethics.

I know that all of the help that will aid Japan will come from humans. Humans who care. Humans who risk their lives. Humans who give their time and their money. Humans who will find the survivors and dig them out. Humans who will shelter those without homes, who will feed those who can no longer feed themselves. Humans who will give medical care to the injured. Humans who will bury the dead and mourn them. Humans who will provide comfort and support to the suffering. Humans who, using science and technology, will rebuild and repair the damage as much as possible.

Your God won't have a damn thing to do with any of it.

If you actually want to really help Japan, here are some places you can make a donation:

Non-Believers Giving Aid

American Red Cross

Médecins Sans Frontières/Doctors Without Borders

And if you can't donate, please encourage others to do so and pass on those links.

Why I'm an atheist

My religious family and friends cannot comprehend how I can be an atheist. I, on the other hand, cannot understand how they can be theists and believe things that not only aren't supported by evidence, but also are often contrary to evidence--and irrational, and sometimes unjust and inhumane too.

Earlier today, I posted this comment on the Pharyngula thread, "Why are you an atheist?" I thought I'd re-post it here. The full story of my transformation from questioning, doubting Catholic school girl to confirmed atheist is longer and more complex than what I wrote in this comment, but it's an accurate summary of why I do not believe in God.

I am an atheist because I'm a skeptic and rationalist. I am not a skeptic and rationalist because I'm an atheist.

Even as a young girl in Catholic school, I was one of those troublesome kids who would actually think about what I was being taught in religion class, ask questions, then say, "But...but..." Because so much of what I was being taught didn't make logical sense to me. And did the adults have evidence that any of it was true? They never had satisfactory answers to my questions. I began to suspect that the adults were just making stuff up.

My inability to accept what I was being taught wasn't helped by the fact that I was well-read, especially for a child growing up in the circumstances I did. I just couldn't mesh what I knew was reality with what the church was claiming.

And, so many Catholic beliefs and practices assailed my innate sense of fairness, justice, and compassion.

For a long time I tried, really really tried, to believe, but I just couldn't make the leap of faith. That time in my life was very depressing and stressful.

Finally, when I was 18, in a single stunning blast of insight, I realized that religion was just rules and rituals made up by fallible men to try to control what other people did, and that there was no evidence that God, who allegedly beamed these rules down from wherever, even existed. So I simply stopped trying to believe the unbelievable. That was it. I've never looked back or felt more at peace.

After the day I stopped trying to believe, I described myself to people as a non-believer, or simply said I didn't belong to a church. I didn't realize I was an "atheist" until I started reading Pharyngula.

Facebook Follies: Nativity Myth

My Facebook feed is filled with howls of outrage about this billboard in New Jersey, put up by the group American Atheists.

The Billboard says, "You KNOW it's a Myth. This Season, Celebrate REASON!" [Blogger's note: Odd punctuation is not mine, it's on the billboard.]

"How dare those atheists!" my friends rant. "We never tell atheists that what they believe is wrong!" Uh, folks, yeah, you do. Every day. In so many ways, both explicit and subtle. Even your comments on Facebook letting atheists know that we're all going to burn in hell and that "it's atheists who believe in myths!!!!" is doing exactly that. Do you have no self-awareness at all? Oh, and I'm curious; what myths do atheists believe, and why don't you believe in those "myths"? You weren't very clear about that.

"Why do atheists insist on shoving their beliefs into our faces? Why can't they keep quiet and keep their offensive beliefs to themselves?! Christians would never express their faith publicly, especially at Christmas. (Please ignore the Nativity scenes in front of our Churches, in our front yards, in storefront windows. Also please ignore the Christian carols that have been playing and playing and playing on the radio since Halloween, and torment you in every mall and store you enter.) We're very sensitive to that fact that some people don't believe as we do, or don't believe at all." Right. So, you express your sensitivity and tolerance by protesting this billboard? This one. Single. Billboard. In New Jersey.

Can you explain what offensive atheist beliefs you're complaining about being shoved in your face? Atheism is non-belief. Your yelps that atheists have (wrong) beliefs and faith (in the wrong things) only make sense to you because you don't recognize the logical fallacy of equivocation when you use it. 

"Those atheists are ruining Christmas!" (Horrors! The atheists are on to us! They have history to back them up! They have geography to back them up! They have cosmology to back them up. They have archeology to back them up! They have evidence!!!!! What do we do now?! We're not allowed to torture or burn non-believers anymore! We can picket at the local atheist church! No? Drat! Those clever atheists don't spend their money on building churches! We'll fight back by putting up Nativity scenes in front of our churches and our homes. Oh, yeah, um...so we'll howl and whine and do news stories on Fox on how awful the atheists are! That will show those awful atheists how abominable they and their billboard are! (We hope God is watching. He'll be so impressed!))

If a billboard in New Jersey can ruin Christmas, and what Christmas is supposed to truly mean to Christians, then that's a mighty powerful billboard--and a mighty weak myth you believe in. I'm rooting for the billboard.

The Atheist Blogroll

The Bastion of Sass blog has been added to The Atheist Blogroll, which you can now find 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.

Eight atheists walked into a bar...

OK. So eight atheists walked into a bar on National Prayer Day, and...with deliberation and great conviction, pointedly did not pray. 

Instead members of The Baltimore Pharyngula Fans Group spent the evening drinking and discussing, often with tremendous snark, and more than a touch of blasphemy, subjects as varied as end of life decisions, the restrictive and repugnant recently enacted Oklahoma abortion law, inane questions people ask us because of our profession, and crimes of moral tuniptude and whether turnips can consent to sex. As usual, there were plenty of good stories exchanged, accompanied by much laughter and the occasional groan.

If you are a Pharyngula fan who lives in the Baltimore area, and haven't made it to one of the group's get-togethers yet, you're missing wonderful evenings of fellowship and fun. 

Quotation of the day

Dialog from the TV show Bones which features one of my favorite TV atheists, Dr. Temperance Brennan AKA "Bones":

Booth: Right now I’m more worried about a safe distance between you and me.
 
Bones: Why?

Booth: Because we’re going to a church, and you tend to get blasphemous in churches.

Bones: What? You’re afraid that if God smites me with lightning you could get hit?

Booth: Yeah, I’m usually standing right beside you.

Bones: The Greek god Zeus also used lightning to incinerate his enemies. Although, Zeus apparently had better aim than your God.

--Bones, Season 5, Episode 14, "The Devil in the Details"

Prayers will work--in 2010!

Overheard conversation:

Christian 1: 2009 was such a terrible year. Let's us all pray that 2010 is a better year.
Christian 2: Yes! Let's pray for a good year in 2010. God always answer prayers.

Me (to myself): So, why didn't either of you two pray for a good year in 2009?!

Someone isn't looking out for me

I badly needed a haircut, but I hadn't felt up to getting one for a while. But today I went to my long-time stylist, Suzie, who I hadn't seen since before my surgery. She asked how I was, and since she didn't seem to remember my previously telling her about the series of events, over a number of months, that eventually led to my cancer diagnosis, I repeated the story.

I told her about the doctors who used their expertise and skill to give me good advice, and my decision at each step to follow the doctors' recommended course of action, even when they all told me that, based on the information they had at the time, the odds that I had cancer were small. So, I told Suzie, the cancer diagnosis was a surprise, even to my doctors, and that the fact that it was found at all was somewhat serendipitous--my surgeon, who thought he was operating on me to remove a benign growth and some precancerous cells, also happened to excise the cancer cells that the previous needle biopsy had missed.

At the conclusion of my story, Suzie chirped cheerfully, "Someone was looking out for you!"

"If 'Someone' was really 'looking out' for me, I wouldn't have cancer in the first place," I countered.

I could see from Suzie's face that she tried to make sense of my comment, but I never found out if she really grasped my meaning.

Prayers, prayers, and more prayers

Lately, I've had lots of people telling me that they're praying for me, even more frequently than when I decided to stop going to church, or when people find out that I--gasp--don't believe in god.

This prayerfest on my behalf is in reaction to my recent breast cancer diagnosis.

So, at a time when I need and would welcome the support of my friends, they're irritating the heck out of me by telling me that they're "praying for me." Sigh. Although I guess it could be worse; they're not praying to god to hasten my departure for the eternal torture of hell.

But I really am having trouble finding a mentally and emotionally satisfying response to this outpouring of prayers from my friends, plus assorted acquaintances and relatives, especially those who know that I am a non-believer.

How can I tell my friends I think their beliefs are looney-tunes, and not hurt their feelings? But on the other hand, my just smiling and accepting with gratitude their prayer offers feels so wrong.

I appreciate the fact that they think they're doing something extremely important for my benefit--asking their god to re-think this whole cancer thing. But I don't appreciate the fact that my friends think that their engaging in primitive superstitious nonsense on my behalf is something that I would, um, appreciate.

Sometimes I respond to them, "Thanks for thinking of me." But, really, if they are thinking about me, how about giving me a call to cheer me up, instead of sending pleading messages into the void on my behalf to...no one. Calling me to chat really does benefit me; calling god to chat does nothing.

On other occasions, I respond about the offer of prayers, "I guess it can't hurt." But that isn't really true, as my opinion of these friends takes a hit with every mention of prayer. Sometimes I wonder how I can keep being friends with people who truly believe in such silliness as a god who listens and answers special requests for help--except when he doesn't, of course.

But what I really want to say to all my praying friends is: "OK. You obviously believe that you're doing something special and wonderful for me by praying for me, but if you must pray, is there some reason you can't keep the fact that you're praying for me to yourself? Because I'd rather not know that you engage in such craziness."

I guess their telling me that they're praying for me is supposed to comfort me, knowing that help from god is--potentially--if he wills it--on the way. Except if it isn't.

And I have the urge, so far controlled, to grab my friends (one at a time, not en mass) by the shoulders, give them a good shake, and scream, "What is wrong with you?!"

What I also find irritating is my suspicion that if my cancer treatments are successful, my friends will give their god the credit, not my oncologists, surgeon, and other doctors who do exist and provide authentic help.

I long for more rational friends, but rational people seem to be a rarity, vastly outnumbered by those who embrace irrationality.