Month: September 2012

Must Be This Tough to Ride

Stephanie Zvan166 Comments

Jen McCreight quit blogging yesterday.*

I don’t want to let them win, but I’m human. The stress is getting to me. I’ve dealt with chronic depression since elementary school, and receiving a daily flood of hatred triggers it. I’ve been miserable. And this toxic behavior is affecting all parts of my life. With this cloud of hate hanging over my head, I can’t focus or enjoy my hobbies or work. It has me constantly on edge with frayed nerves, which causes me to take it out on the ones I love. I spend most of my precious free time angry, on the verge of tears, or sobbing as I have to moderate comments or read what new terrible things people have said about me. And the only solution I see is to unplug.

Jen’s reaction is entirely understandable. She’s not the first woman to decide barriers to public participation are too high, and she won’t be the last.

“But why?” I hear some people asking out there. Let me start the answer to that by saying you should probably know this already if you have any real interest in the topic. She hasn’t been quiet about the fact that this is happening. If you haven’t seen what she’s been putting up with, why not? Did you refuse to look? Continue reading “Must Be This Tough to Ride” →

Must Be This Tough to Ride
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After You Say, "No", Part II

Stephanie Zvan69 Comments

“All she had to do was say, ‘No.’”

That’s how I started a post almost a year ago. At the time, I was appalled that we’d been talking about an incident in a Dublin elevator for nearly three months. (Oh, my naivety, where have you gone?) The post used a different incident, well outside the atheosphere, to demonstrate how what happens in an elevator doesn’t happen in a vacuum.

This post is for everyone who has told me that if I were just clearer about my boundaries that guys would back off or that women just aren’t clear enough about expressing their discomfort.

That wasn’t the problem. It’s almost never the problem, but rather, a symptom. And now, nearly a year later, we have another woman sharing an incident that demonstrates exactly the same thing. Continue reading “After You Say, "No", Part II” →

After You Say, "No", Part II

The Decision to Attend

Stephanie Zvan16 Comments

Atheist conferences can be lots of fun to attend. We have a plethora of entertaining speakers. Being in the majority instead of the minority can be a very pleasant change. Meeting and speaking with activists is incredibly inspiring.

However, as great as these events are, they’re out of reach for a lot of people. Even a conference like Skepticon, which has no entrance fee, involves travel, lodging, and time off of work for a large percentage of the people who attend. That can rule out people with children, people who work weekends, people who simply don’t have much disposable income.

Whether trying to be more inclusive or just meeting a rising demand for atheist activities, more groups are starting local conventions and other types of events. This requires a remarkable amount of work, usually supplied by volunteers (often college students) who have never run a large event before. Continue reading “The Decision to Attend” →

The Decision to Attend

Wedding Photos

Stephanie Zvan11 Comments

My husband was a groomsman for a friend this weekend. There was a professional photographer covering the ceremony and reception, but I took some photos of my own. It turns out I have some odd ideas of what constitutes wedding photography.

Edge of house, showing interlocked logs.

This is one of the houses on the property where the wedding was held. We were told it dates back about a century and a half. Yes, that’s chinked log construction. Continue reading “Wedding Photos” →

Wedding Photos

Those American Atheists Billboards

Stephanie Zvan17 Comments

When the most recent set of American Atheists billboards came down under threat* from (presumably) believers, it restarted the complaints. “Too strident”, some say, including many atheists. “Those are never going to change anyone’s mind.”

Mormonism: God is a space alien; baptizes dead people; big money, big bigotry. Atheism: Simply reasonable.

At the American Atheists convention in Saint Paul a couple of weeks ago, Dave Silverman let us all in on a little secret. Those billboards aren’t there to change anyone’s mind. For that matter, that information has never been a secret.

Christianity: sadistic god; useless savior; 30,000+ versions of "truth"; promotes hate, calls it love. Atheism: simply reasonable.

No one at American Atheists has ever expected that a believer would look at a sign saying, “You know it’s a myth”, and say, “Oh. Huh. I guess I do. I guess that makes me an atheist.” It’s not going to happen. In fact, I feel pretty comfortable asserting that the kind of message that can fit on a billboard is never going to be a conversion moment for someone who is religious. That isn’t what billboard slogans can do.

So what’s the point of American Atheists billboards? Continue reading “Those American Atheists Billboards” →

Those American Atheists Billboards

The Desperate Reach for "Both Sides Do It"

Stephanie Zvan5 Comments

There was an article yesterday in the New York Times marveling over the utter lack of concern for truth shown in the speeches of major-party presidential and vice presidential nominees. Do me a favor and take a moment to guess which party the article is discussing. Continue reading “The Desperate Reach for "Both Sides Do It"” →

The Desperate Reach for "Both Sides Do It"

Saturday Storytime: Cotillion

Stephanie Zvan

Delia Sherman is a fantasy writer who embeds magic in unusual milieus. For her Mythopoeic Award-winning The Porcelain Dove, it was the French Revolution. In her recent novel, The Freedom Maze, it is a sugar plantation in antebellum Louisiana. Here it is the cultural friction of late 1960s New York.

Celia stepped out of the bright lobby into the cold night air. Her breath ghosted back to her as she cuddled her coat up to her chin.

Valentine folded her hand in his and drew her down the steps of the Plaza Hotel towards the fountain, heading across town.

“Let’s walk,” he said. “The fresh air will revive you.”

“There is no fresh air in New York,” Celia complained, but it was only reflex. She was feeling indecently cheerful, considering that she’d just broken up with Guy—if you could even break up with someone who was nearly too stoned to speak. When Valentine brought her back to the box after the waltz, Guy had let her know that he didn’t like her dancing with foreign fags, and she had let him know that she never wanted to see him again. He’d tried to kiss her. Stoned as he was, it was easy to push him away. Valentine had caught him, and a moment later, Guy was in a chair in the corner of the box with his head on the pink linen tablecloth, snoring peacefully.

“Damn,” Celia said, disgusted. “Now there’s going to be the most incredible scene.” Her cigarettes and silver lighter were lying by Guy’s hand. She picked up the pack and pulled one out. Valentine took it from her hand and tucked back it into her purse.

“Let’s not make a big deal out of this,” he said. “Someone might notice that I don’t actually have an invitation to this affair. Perhaps one of his friends would be willing to perform a discreet rescue? I’ll see you home, if you like.”

Celia was momentarily side-tracked from the problem of what to do with Guy. “You crashed the ball? Why?”

Valentine’s smile broadened just a little. “To find you,” he said.

Keep reading.

Saturday Storytime: Cotillion