Campus Atheists... An Adventure

So, my significant other and myself went to a meeting of our campus atheists (well, atheists, skeptics, and humanists) last week. We had been considering joining for a while, but we had timing conflicts for a few weeks (D&D games take precedence, of course). Last Friday, though, they were hosting a pool party and we had nothing better to do, so we stopped by.

The first observation was this: Never before have I seen so many antisocial, silent men hovering around a pool, fully clothed, with no intention of getting wet. They mostly appeared to be younger than me, but I tend to think college students always look (and act) younger than me.

As the awkward, quiet minutes went by, conversation began to pick up and more people arrived. The conversation was nerdy in nature, as you would expect from a gathering of atheists at a computer science/engineering school. Enjoyable, but leaning more towards the "I've seen the internet!" shallow end of the discussion pool.

Before I continue, I wasn't expecting much in the way of serious debate or anything at a pool party. Most of their meetings are housed indoors and revolve around presentations and discussions, so I'll consider this meeting an outlier, I guess.

So, the crowd grew. Some people started swimming, and fun started a little bit. However, the conversations never got very deep, even when controversial topics were broached.

For example, one girl started explaining the evolution of atheists, by saying, "All atheists start out hating God." I sputtered a little and tried to offer the old, "You can't hate someone you don't believe exists," but she just shrugged and said that all atheists start by losing faith because of an event in their life. Speaking as an atheist who did not go through a traumatic event that made me lose faith, I told her she was wrong, but she didn't seem to listen.

It also turns out, and I don't know if she was part of this, the campus FOCUS group likes to send their members to the ASH meetings in order to "talk about worldviews" and offer their "respect" or something. They're welcome, and I'm sure they'll be interesting to talk to, but I wonder how they would react to ASH camping out at their meetings. Hell, probably in swarms of ministry and spam.

There was also one guy there, who was basically the embodiment of this xkcd comic. He called himself "The Skeptic" in the group, I guess insinuating that everyone there was incapable of skeptical thought. He also had a sneering way of talking about atheists, though he reserved more of his criticism for the predominant type of member in the ASH group, what he affectionately termed "Fuck You, Dad" atheists, which I hope isn't truly the case. Of course, he also hates "New Atheists" and thinks Richard Dawkins "just wants to hate-fuck Jesus," so that's how credible he is to me as a witness.

I tried to press this guy for his own theistic stance, but he dodged and danced around the issue, finally saying something like "Well, if you flip a coin enough times it will land on its side," as though that was meaningful in the slightest. He also made plenty of racist and sexist comments, and tried to tell us that his mother got to work for NASA by having a triple degree in Latin, Greek, and some other language. I have a feeling this guy is into feeling superior to everyone else, and if that means being a non-theist non-atheist "skeptic" who hates everything and makes up impressive stories about his parentage, so be it. I don't consider myself a fan of that approach, though.

On a slight tangent: This idea of "Well, both sides could equally be wrong" is not skepticism, to me. Not only is it incorrect (two options does not mean they are both equally likely), it's an embracing of cynicism and ignorance. My Intro Philosophy professor has tried to say that skeptics are people who, when looking at a difficult issue, throw their arms in the air and say "Well, nobody can really know!" That's not any skeptic I know.

Skeptics demand evidence before belief is justified. On difficult subjects like the existence of a god, it's not a matter of "both sides." The side claiming a god exists is the side that needs to provide the largest amount of evidence for that claim. At least, my rough framework understanding of the burden of proof in philosophy (and positive/negative claims) tells me so. I will happily admit to being under-educated in this field.

I struggle with seeing the claim that god does not exist as a negative claim, or one that also needs evidence. It makes sense to me for the neutral position to be "There is no god," because someone had to create the idea of a god existing. People did not start out originally weighing the possibilities of gods or no gods. They were neutral on the matter (living as though no god existed) until someone stopped and said, "What if there's a giant sky fairy that made all of this and is really, really angry at us for being the people he created?" But this is all very off-topic.

Anyway, the pool party was... interesting. I ran into an acquaintance or two, heard some rather disappointing conversation, some interesting conversation, and some purely idiotic conversations about the "Ground Zero Mosque" which is neither a mosque nor at Ground Zero.

Will I go back? I'll probably give a "real" meeting a shot, see how it goes. If Mr. ~*Skeptic*~ is doing a lot of presenting and talks, I highly doubt I will enjoy it much. But I crave this kind of intellectual stimulation, the chance to debate and discuss. I don't know if I have the balls to do it in person, but my ironic God, if Matt Dillahunty and the gang haven't provided me with the ammo I need to do it, I don't think anyone could.

I wish I lived in Austin. Sigh.

Adding To A Feminist Discussion

I lurk on Tumblr somewhat commonly. My favorites that I subscribe to are what I refer to as the STFU's. A few of them have become less amusing and more philosophical and debate-happy, but I couldn't help but get swept up in a discussion on STFU, Sexists. A commenter/troll started up a pretty nasty discussion about rape, the word "slut," and more.

A longstanding defense of rapists has always been the "Slut had it coming" line of thinking. Basically, cretins argue that a woman who has had "too much sex" cannot be raped, because she clearly invited it upon herself. You can't rape someone who likes sleeping with everyone, right?

Wrong.

The STFU, Sexists author (Miss Ogny) and others came up with a lot of good analogies, and the points that pop up most in my mind are probably not original, but I wanted to add to the discussion.

First, I agree with their consensus that the word "slut" has no real meaning and is useless in discussions. A "slut" does not exist. Sluts, some would argue, have too much promiscuous sex, but how do you quantify that? It's not always used in the rape discussion, and sometimes it's a word used jokingly amongst friends, but it is essentially a harmful word that should be stopped.

Nobody can tell you a number that would equal too many sex partners, or too many sexual encounters. Beyond that, nobody has the right or ability to tell someone that it's even possible to have "too many" of these things. Sex is personal, and involves only the bodies of people who consent to be involved.

So, if you can't understand why a girl has the right to say no to sex at any point in her life, whether she's slept with hundreds or zero, whether she's just finished a hand job or a blow job, or whether she's drunk or high in front of horny fratboys, maybe this will help. Maybe.

STFU, Sexists used the analogy of a boxer, which I have a few issues with. It went like this, though: Professional boxers probably get punched a lot. You could argue they even enjoy getting beaten up. However, no amount of boxing would excuse the professional boxer getting jumped and pummeled in an alleyway after dinner one night. You can't excuse a violent crime by saying "but he enjoys it normally!"

Problems with this analogy: Professional athletes get paid for their sport. Thus, this boxer engages in sport, gets paid, wins awards, etc. He also probably does this in the public arena, and people probably know him. This does not translate well for our argument.

Women (and men) have sex privately, most of the time. Even sexual encounters that are made public are still, in essence, the private business of the people engaged in the encounter, providing no crime is being committed. So to talk about people who are "professionals" enters into a new argument about prostitution, and while the argument is still valid (prostitutes can be raped, too), it doesn't apply to your average person.

I'd consider it like a monthly donation to an organization you believe in. Consider this: Person A wins the lottery and wants to donate once to an organization fighting world hunger. Person B tithes monthly to a church or the Salvation Army. Person C gives $5 to her friend every week so she can get lunch. In all of these situations, money is being given away. Freely. Do I have the right, then, to walk up and take the money they're giving? To steal the giant gimmicky lottery check? To take $100 out of the tithe money for my own groceries? To beat up her friend and take $5 for a footlong sandwich at Subway?

No. It doesn't matter that they are giving away something to someone else, asking nothing in return. It's not mine to take.

If Person A realizes before they hand the check over that the organization they're donating to is corrupt, they have the right to take their check back in the middle of the act. If Person B can't afford to tithe one month, the church or Santa Clauses do not have the right to beat down B's door and take what they normally would have gotten. Person C has the right to say no to their friend, and the right to only give them $4, or $3.

Sex is something you can share with someone. Or not share with someone. It doesn't matter how often you engage in it, or how many people you share it with. It is still yours until you give it freely, and until the deed is done all the way, you have the right to change your mind. Nobody can drug you and take your money without suffering punishment. Nobody can raid your purse while you're drunk of your own choosing. The same goes with sex, only more so.

So STFU.

"Praise the Lord!"

I'm getting really tired of God getting the credit for things other people have accomplished. Too many people respond with something like "Praise God!" when, for example, someone finds a job after a long period of unemployment. Or when medicine starts to work, and a disease or a disorder stops wreaking havoc on someone's life.

Nobody seems to remember the crap that someone had to live through before the miracle came to pass. Worse, nobody would dare blame God for that period of suffering. A lay-off is merely God testing you. A child with a developmental disorder is God trying to teach you patience. When a job appears, or medication begins to work, it's God answering your prayers. No matter how long it takes, it's always God coming through.

So God's in a pretty sweet position, isn't he? He makes your life go to hell, and he's in the right. He fixes the mess he supposedly made, and he's being so merciful and giving. He can't lose! It's not as though saying "I still haven't found a job" would get anyone to respond, "I guess God has given up on you!" They just say, "I'm praying harder for you!" And when something good eventually comes along (not even necessarily related to the original problem), everyone will morph whatever it is to fit the twisted view that God has come through for you, and your prayers have worked.

What a mindset to be in. Any God I'd worship should be capable of keeping me from suffering. Otherwise, what's the point of worshiping him? Oh, right, I have to worship this one because if I don't then my innate sinful nature (that he created) will send me to hell.

How useless a deity to serve. Benevolent? Pshaw. Chaotic and cruel is more like it.

The most frustrating thing about this set-up is that it's almost impossible to point out to people. Psychology pretty much explains the whole phenomenon as a mix between a self-fulfilling prophecy and delusional thinking. People twist their realities to fit into constructs that seem to make the most sense to them, and when you spend years believing in a God, you're not going to start listening to reason without a long, hard fight.

I just hope I can build people's esteems up as they go, so they realize that they are the ones in control of their own lives. Hopefully before it gets too set in their minds that they are powerless.

If anyone is reading this - You're not powerless. God doesn't exist, and therefore cannot grant your wishes. But think hard about this: If he did exist, and he really loved you, would he let you get hurt? Would he let you suffer as you undoubtedly have in your life? Would he let millions starve to death? Would he let pedophiles preach his gospel without any kind of reprimand? Would he create this world in such a flawed manner, only to punish the creation for displaying those same flaws?

It doesn't make sense. But what does make sense is you. Your intellect, your abilities, they have gotten you this far, and they will only continue to grow and carry you forward. Don't waste your brain cells and your future on an imaginary being (who really isn't all that great even if he was real).

Spend your present on your future. Don't spend it on maybes and fantasy. You're worth more than that.

Writing Bombs, Not Songs

I went to a concert last night. It was a smallish affair in a crowded local bar, so while the opening band was droning on, I had a lot of time to think. After all, it was either that or realize how sweaty I was getting or how uncomfortable I felt brushing up against other people's elbows.

The opening band was... well, I can't speak from a lot of experience. I haven't been to a lot of local music shows, so I don't know how common this kind of band is. But basically, there were three members. The drummer, a white guy wearing a stupid hipster vest, had on a straw hat with brown feathers taped to the back in some sort of ironic headdress fashion. He also had bracelets with feathers on them, and I'm pretty sure the last set of drumsticks had feathers on them, too.

The she-bassist was wearing shoulderpads with blue feathers on them, along with some strange combination of a bikini and a prom dress. She also had a perm that looked like she was going to prom in the 80's.

And the lead guitarist/singer? An attractive lady with a small 'fro, wearing a simple purple dress. No feathers in sight. How... ironically unlike the rest of her band?

She also used a 12-stringed purple stratocaster. It was a beautiful, matte purple. Unfortunately, this guitarist was not a guitarist. She had the guitar tuned to a certain chord (I couldn't tell you which one), and just strummed and plucked as necessary. Any time she played a melodic "solo," she did all of it on one string.

This, of course, meant that all of her songs were done with one chord. The same chord. Over and over. Even the melodic solos were similar. Bo. Ring.

But, music critique aside, here's what I wanted to talk about: Her lyrics. Even without being in the scene, I know that there is a trend in indie music to make songs that sound really, really deep but are utterly meaningless. As I commented to my husband, if you have to introduce every song with "This is a song about..." then you probably aren't doing a very good job with your lyric-writing. Especially when all of the songs are about death and sex, arguably the two easiest things to write about.

For example, this group liked to throw the words "body" and "mind" into every song, as though making an edgy statement by differentiating between body and mind. Edgy in the 16th century, maybe.

There just seems to be far too many artists now that make vague references to deep philosophical arguments, but leave most of the mental work to the listener. Whether this is because hipster musicians don't know what they're talking about, or because they think everyone should know this stuff because only idiots don't, I don't know. Either way is equally pretentious and annoying. Sidenote: This is also why I don't like postmodern literature, now that I think of it.

I mean, music is art, and artists are free to do whatever they want for whatever reason they can justify it with. Far be it from me to say whether something is "good" music or not. I can't make a value judgment like that for anyone but me. Personally, though, I'll take music with something to actually say over music that tries to sound like it has something to say.

Admitting It To Myself

I had a dream about a week ago. Even as a future Psychologist, I don't put a whole lot of stock into dream analysis. At least, I don't believe that colors and symbols play a large role in the dreams people have. I instead lean more towards dreams as a means of roleplaying for your brain. Your mind attempts to synthesize what you've done that day and in the past, and works to practice at what you will likely encounter in the future.

Does that really explain why people end up conquering Cuba with a 50-foot tall Jesus in their dreams? Not so much. But I believe the majority of dreams are mundane, and we only remember the ones that are shocking and otherwise confusing.

So, to remember a dream that involved familiar settings and familiar people, it felt as though it was somewhat important. And I agree. It was shocking, and confusing.

I was wandering around my former school grounds, a series of portable metal buildings interwoven with concrete sidewalks and metal roofing. I ran into someone I haven't seen since 4th grade, but he had aged appropriately in my mind. Instead of a young, carrot-haired, freckled and bespectacled boy, he was a tall, thin, orange-haired and I guess contacts-wearing man. I knew his name, even though I can pretty confidently say I wouldn't know him from Adam if I saw him today.

We spoke about life, I guess. I don't recall most of the conversation, which is probably because in reality dreams only last a few seconds, and you have tons of them in one night. But, we got to the subject of religious paths, and he talked about going to church and his faith.

I, on the other hand, in the one quote I really remember, said, "I actually think I'm becoming an atheist."

I've never said it before. I don't even know that I've really said it out loud. But I wasn't full of shame when my dream-self spoke it. I wasn't embarrassed or apprehensive. I just... said it.

And when I woke up, I knew it was true.

I'm still processing it, but I think, in this case, admitting it to myself was the first step on a path I want to follow.

I'm NOT Second.

I don’t know how prevalent the I Am Second billboards are in other states, but here in Texas I see one or two every morning on my way to work, and they pop up every few miles or so, it seems. And they always make me incredibly sad.

If the creators of these messages meant for me to stop and think when I see them, then they definitely got the job done. However, if they intended for the I Am Second message to make me think favorably about their religion, then they are way off base.

See, the thought “I Am Second” is a great indicator of what religion does to the psyche of those who follow it. The billboard on my way to work is one with Sam Bradford, apparently some kind of football star. It says “Picked first in the draft, but still second.”

No! No you are NOT second! You worked hard, you trained, you practiced, and you earned your spot and your future. Jesus did not make your hands adept at catching or throwing a football. Your genes and your determination did.

Religion makes its foothold by destroying your own beliefs in your self-efficacy. It creates doubt in your mind and fills it with an unquestionable certainty about the dominance of a being you’ll never see or hear from. It makes a one-way street for attribution of events in your life. If something good happens, it’s not because YOU made it happen, it’s because God smiled on you. If something bad happens, well, you didn’t have enough faith, God is testing you, you disobeyed God, blah blah you suck and God rules.

How utterly useless.

As children, when we are truly innocent, we have no concept of our own failings. We are nothing if not arrogant as children, and learning your own true limits is a crucial part of the growing up process. To circumvent that maturation by inserting God as the only capable entity in someone’s life is to completely offset the trajectory of healthy mental and physical development.

If you stop a child from learning that he can climb up the small tree in your yard, but not the giant redwoods out in the national parks, and instead tell the child that he is capable of nothing except what God allows him, and that all things are possible with God, you have created what could potentially be a monster. At the very least, you have confused the child’s concepts of what is real and what is not (beyond the harm of introducing the God character at all). That child will grow to believe he is possibly capable of anything, but personally capable of nothing. This isn’t even taking into account the sheer amount of buck-passing and lack of accountability these teachings introduce.

When the kid does well on a test, then it’s all “Praise God! He gave you such a smart little brain!” When the same kid fails a test, it’s all “You didn’t study hard enough. Practice more.” Why couldn’t the magic brain God gave him perform the same on every test? Doesn’t seem very reliable, to me. Could it be that maybe the kid tried hard the first time, and when you told him God was the one who succeeded, he stopped trying and assumed God would carry him through to his next A? Of course not! That would make sense.

To be fair, I Am Second is probably one of the less harmful campaigns I’ve seen on the subject. Being second to God is better than the idea most Christian music would present, that you are nothing, a wretch, a sinner, worse than the most vile creature you can think of. I’d rather be a silver medalist than the heap of dung beside the garbage dumpster, but over all of that I’d prefer for my own accomplishments to be my own making.

You know, I’ve spent a lot of my life being depressed and feeling worthless. I turned to religion, to Jesus, to feel better about myself. I put faith in this God that would supposedly lift me up from the nothing I felt I was, and imbue me with his power and make me capable, but I never stopped and realized that this deference I was showing was actually keeping me depressed and worthless. I should never have acknowledged I was worthless in the first place.

I am not nothing. I am not a wretch. I am not worthless. I am not incapable of good. I am not evil. I am not a sinner. I am not unworthy of love.

I am good. I mess up, but I face those mistakes and learn from them. I am improving. I am full of love and deserving of the same. I treat people with respect, and deserve it in return. I am not in good physical shape, but I am beautiful regardless, and I can make a difference. I am intelligent, but even smart people do dumb things sometimes.

So to those who try to get off the hook by saying that religion doesn’t harm anyone, you’re wrong. It harms the very core of your being. I’d never say you don’t have the right to believe whatever you want to. You have the right to believe you’re a worthless pile of crap and only an undead son of God can redeem your soul to being even worthy to look at. I don’t think you have the right to tell a child the same message, because they’re too young to argue with you, but that’s a touchy area.

Anyway. You are not second. You are first in your own life, and you must take responsibility for your own actions and outcomes. You own your victories and your failures, and you have the power to change the course of your own life. Putting that power in the hands of a clearly ambivalent and probably nonexistent deity is chaining yourself to a life of someone else’s choosing.

Rolling a character... About Me

In order to properly start a blog, I should probably just begin at square one: A little bit about your dear author.

First, I am a giant nerd. Well, maybe not giant. I'm sure there are nerdier folks than me out there, and I don't have a specialty area. I'm a bit of a Jill of All Trades when it comes to my geeky pastimes, and the only real area I don't have MUCH of an interest in is pure high-tech science fiction. Add in some interesting characters and shine some of the light off of how the light particles interact and why the machinery functions the way it does, and I'm in, though. :)

Beyond being a nerd, I am also a student. I'm a Senior working on a BA in Psychology. I have a longstanding history of being a fan of learning, as well as being the shoulder my friends cry on, so it should not surprise anyone that my current plans involve attaining a PhD in Clinical Psychology.

So, why the blog?

Well, to be honest, I wanted somewhere to voice what was going on in my life. I don't have the dedication or gumption to create a blog based solely on an ideology, a spin, a way of life, or a hobby. However, I am stuck living the life I lead, so I might as well try to take a creative view of it.

If people enjoy the writings, so be it! If people sympathize or have suggestions, that is always welcome, too.

Basically, I have spent the majority of my young life thus far as the Real Life Healer in my party of friends and family. I am the one who carries the burdens of others, the one people come to with their issues, and the one who has far more longsuffering patience than is healthy for me. And sometimes, the healer needs a place to rest, to reflect, and to gather up and prepare for the next day's battle. The time has certainly come in my own life where I need to put down everyone else's baggage and start figuring out where the hell I am, who the hell I am, and who the hell I want to be.

Anything is game here. Work, religion, politics, video games, sex, it's all fair. And there may be language involved, though I will try to keep it to a minimum.

Alas! Welcome aboard, weary traveler. Join the party.