Caution: Emo Times Ahead

First of all: all of my love and thanks to you, my darlings, for standing with me when I needed you. Having you in my cheering section, virtual arms around me, and telling me to fight the good fight has definitely kept me from dissolving. Knowing that I’ve inspired some of you to fight the fight yourselves is immeasurably rewarding. There is a reason for doing this. What I lose is balanced by what we gain.

B and I… aren’t good. We had a talk wherein he told me I had to do this, and he was all for me doing what I had to do, that I’m right on these issues. But it’s clear he thinks I’m threatening his comfort, threatening to take away the happy fun good times and replace them with soulless corporate icky times (which, for various reasons, have a profound and negative impact on him), and no amount of me telling him that our supervisor is not going to become a humorless corporate drone just because I ask him to ease up on the unconscious transphobia and give the ladiez some equal time on the projector is reassuring him. He told me he loves me and wants to be with me, then left me crying in my parking lot instead of coming up for the Doctor Who and shrimp fest we’d planned that night. Fair enough, we were both upset. And he was kindly enough to me as a colleague at work the next day. Til he practically fled from me at lunch… and I went home sick… and I haven’t heard from him since.

Not a word.

Not a call. Not an email. Just silence.

And a part of me thinks he needs some time to process, and a part of me thinks, “Well, that’s over.” Because, you see, I’d told him to come to me when he was ready to close that distance, that I didn’t want to pressure him. But he’s nowhere in sight so far, not even a casual checking up with the “Hey, I know you weren’t feeling well, and I know the Help Center was pretty freaked out by what you had – you okay? Yes? Great. See you at work.” So what the fuck am I supposed to do or think?

What my mind has decided to do is leap to worst case scenario and the mourning process has begun, no matter how sternly I remind myself it’s early times yet. B meant a lot to me. He’s a fantastic person, caring and smart and willing to learn. We had plans and he added a lot to my life, but if my intelligence intimidates him and my little crusades make him miserable, there’s not much to salvage, then, is there? This weekend, when not spent at urgent care clinics and specialists’ offices, has been spent surveying the wreckage of a best friendship and scouting a life without him. It also means my brain has been occupied with listing other people I’ve lost for similar reasons. And gleefully battering me over the head with a list of friends I’ve neglected for no good reason.

This means I will, at times, become dreadfully emo. This could spill over into blog life, as I do things like share the current sad song I’ve got on repeat.

 Hush, hush, don’t wake up, it’s not morning
Hush, hush, sleep through this, I am warning
Why are you crying? It’s not a sad movie
Why are you crying, dear? There is nothing sad here
There is nothing sad, is there?
Angels fall in to save my soul
Sorry, Absinthe, you’re much too slow
All that glitters and all that glows
Will find a way in as soon as I go
Hush, hush, I dreamed I was happy
Hush, hush, you were happy with me
Hush, hush, feel the chill and it is real
Hush, hush, but at least you can still feel
Why are you crying? It’s not a sad movie
Why are you crying, dear? There is nothing sad here
If you want wings, just tell them so
These are the things that make us grow cold
Break the code and then just go
Love is something you seek and destroy
Then ask, “Why are you crying?”

This is the way I process this shit. And the excellent good news is, it gets better. We’ll either work it out or we won’t. If not, there was a life before B that I had, and it was great, and I’ll get used to it again. There’s still all of you. And there are coworkers who will appreciate what I’ve done and feel their lives are just that much better, and who themselves will be inspired to stand up and say when something’s bothering them rather than just let it fester. There will be people reading this online – as there already have – who will decide it’s time to take a stand and be silent no more. And the more of us who do this, the fewer there are who will have to deal with lost friendships over this shit. The less social drama there will be, and the more, “Oops, my bad, I’ll fix that. Woo-hoo, let’s go have some fun!” as opposed to the current, “YOU ARE A TERRIBLE PERSON WHO HAS DESTROYED ALL THE FUN EVER.” Ordinary people will start babbling about everyday sexism and racism and microagressions and will be more cognizant of what they’re doing, and more willing to make things better for others, which will lead to a net increase in good times being had by all. This world will suck less day by day, for everyone except the dyed-in-the-wool haters, who are gonna be miserable until they make that change. As Grumpy Cat sez: “Good.”

There’s a decent future out there, just past the current bad stretch.

It gets better. But first it gets a little emo. And for that, you have my deepest, sincerest apologies.

Image is a stump and fallen log. Natural patterns in the wood have the appearance of an unhappy face. Caption says:Emo Log: always looking at its sadness. (Grammar and spelling corrected.)

Emo Log: always looking at its sadness. (Grammar and spelling corrected.)

Donate for Typhoon Victims

So the Philippines are being demolished. This is what global warming denial hath wrought.

As Super-Typhoon Haiyan moved over the central Philippines on Nov. 8 at 05:10 UTC/12:10 a.m. EDT, the MODIS instrument aboard NASA's Aqua satellite captured this visible image. Image Credit: NASA Goddard MODIS Rapid Response Team. Caption by NASA.

As Super-Typhoon Haiyan moved over the central Philippines on Nov. 8 at 05:10 UTC/12:10 a.m. EDT, the MODIS instrument aboard NASA’s Aqua satellite captured this visible image. Image Credit: NASA Goddard MODIS Rapid Response Team. Caption by NASA.

Haiyan made landfall as an extremely powerful super typhoon, perhaps the strongest ever recorded at landfall, with sustained winds estimated at 195 mph (315 kph) by the Joint Typhoon Warning Center.  Previously, Hurricane Camille, which struck the northern Gulf Coast in 1969, held the record with 190 mph sustained winds at landfall. After striking Samar, Haiyan quickly crossed Leyte Gulf and the island of Leyte as it cut through the central Philippines.

I’m used to storms weakening as they pass over land. This one barely blinked. The havoc it’s wrought will fit right in with what Katrina did to New Orleans. Hundreds are confirmed dead, thousands missing. Homes gone. Lives destroyed. So we’re needed. If you’ve got a spare dollar, donate it for some fellow human beings who desperately need all the assistance they can get.

We’re all we’ve got, folks. One thing we know for sure as atheists: there is no help coming from above (well, not above airplanes, anyway). There’s no supernatural aid to counter the effects of a super typhoon. Just us.

Let’s do all we can.

At Last, The Perfect Snark for the “Criticism Murderer Mah Freeze Peaches !” Contingent

You patrons of our fine Freethought Blogs establishments have undoubtedly run into the ridiculous folk who whine and howl about how we killed their free speech with nasty criticism. There’s one such meltdown just this week, which promised to be at least mildly entertaining – until The Denver Atheist took his ball and sulked home, thus infringing upon my right to pursue happiness at his expense.

Still. Must admire his ability to stick a flounce for over twelve hours, a skill which is vanishingly rare amongst those who cry about how meeeaaaannnn we are and say they’re really really leaving and they totally mean it this time. No, seriously, they’re outta here. This time – no, this time – well, definitely this time, they are so leaving because we are soooooo mean and awful that they’ll never be back again. Except for all those times they come back to tell us how mean we are and how right they are before leaving again for reals this time…

Our Freeze Peach Warrierz are nothing if not obsessively devoted to their causes, especially the cause of giving the rest of us headaches from chronic eye-rolling.

And really, what do you say to people stupid enough to argue that we are Taking Away All the Freeze Peaches by exercising our own?

The fine folks at Wonkette, who have some Freeze Peach Crusaderz of their own, have decided to turn a mirror shined with premium snark upon the doughty brigades:

But aren’t we free to write say what we want in this country? We are writing what we think is best for our blog and are not forcing our beliefs on anyone else. Why would you write a comment that disagrees, “sanwin?” Haven’t you ever hear of something called “freedom of speech”? Stop oppressing us with your words, which make it impossible for us to do freedom! This is Amercia!

I shall engrave this paragraph upon something gleaming and durable, with a blank space for the name, and present it to each intrepid Freeze Peach Warriur who comes round crying about how Criticism Equals Tyrrany. Because, really, such behavior thaws mah peaches right out. Sheesh.

I’m Still Among the Living

So this silence…. Well, there was a holiday, and I spent quite a lot of it catching up on housework, and then there was that trip to the craft store with Starspider. You know what, don’t ever turn the two of us loose in a craft store. Especially not when the sparkly shit’s on sale.

Long story short, I’ve been very busy blinging a bag. My favorite tote bag died, and I figured what the hell, might as well get one of those plain ones and do it up myself, y’know, iron on a few designs, piece o’ cake. Oh, and the straps need some padding sewn on. And holy shit, look at those rolls of glittery sort of rhinestone strips for a buck-fifty. Oh, and it’ll need pockets. Many. Pockets. Also big center designs for the little transfers to go round, let me just go spelunk the intertoobz for nifty Chinese dragons and possibly peacocks…

By the time I’m done, I should be able to summon planes and/or ships to any given desert island, or permanently blind unprepared people. Possibly set things on fire on sunny days. I like it a lot already. And Phase I is almost complete, so I’ll have actual content for you once again. Probably Thursday. In the meantime, I hope you’ve spent some quality time with our other bloggers, and had a great weekend yerselves. See you soon! I gotta go get more rhinestones….


A brand-new week looms, and promises to be, how shall we say, emotionally taxing for us all. Let’s have some beauty so that we may brace ourselves.

Ryan (Glacial Till) came for a visit, and we headed over to Washington Park Arboretum. They have an utterly lovely Japanese garden there, which is always a delight to wander about in. I have many and wonderful shots that will make appearances as time goes by and themes like carp or turtles or stone lanterns present themselves. For now, we’ll have some of the somewhat artistic bits.


Waterfall, Japanese Garden

Waterfall, Japanese Garden

Magenta water lily:

Magenta Water Lily, dreaming of Monet

Magenta Water Lily, dreaming of Monet

White water lilies:

White Water Lilies

White Water Lilies

Turtle and carp:

Dark moon turtle, sun carp.

Dark moon turtle, sun carp.

Snow lantern and coins:

Snow Lantern Luck

Snow Lantern Luck


Now, you may think an arboretum is a botanist’s thing, but there’s some geology to be seen. Take the walk across the bottom of Lake Washington, and you can look up at quite a bit of geology indeed.

Geology at the Arboretum.

Geology at the Arboretum.

We’re looking from the ship canal across Lake Washington to the Cascades. In this view, you have a lake carved by the Puget Lobe of the Cordilleran Ice Sheet, and the hills round about are often drumlins, deposited and shaped by the ice. Behind us is a subduction zone: on the far horizon is the result of that subduction, a tall line of jagged peaks. Folks more qualified could talk about hydrogeology, and geomorphology, and I’m sure plenty more. So this isn’t a place where the geology leaps out, grabs you by both lapels, and screams three millimeters from your face, “Look at me! I’m some geology ya’ll better recognize!” but it’s definitely there.

One last story: in trying to find the way beneath the highway, we stumbled across an area where men whose preference isn’t women like to, erm, get full sun. I’ve never seen more guys flummoxed by the fact a woman has appeared among them. And I have never felt so at ease amidst a large group of naked men. My dear gay citizens: I’m so sorry I disturbed your peace. Carry on, and have a lovely rest of your summer.

Beautiful day with a wonderful friend, and so much more to look forward to before summer ends.

You Good People

I just want to take a moment to thank all of you on this side of the rift.

Not so long ago, I might’ve ended up on the other. Our culture had battered me with so many messages about how women were and should be treated and should react to that treatment that I thought all that shit was normal. Upset because some dude cat-called you on the street? Chill out, girl! Didn’t get that promotion? Well, most women just can’t hack it like dudes can. Why did that idiot stay with her abuser? Why did she get drunk knowing she could get hurt? Where does she get off saying women aren’t equal – we totally are, and if we aren’t, well, it’s probably our fault, ladies! Hey, I’m one of the guys. I’m not like those girls.

Being one of the guys really can insulate you from a lot of bullshit. It also allows you to perpetuate the worst of our culture rather than recognizing problems and fixing them.

You brought me out of that.

What feminism is: the radical notion that women are people. Sign me up! Image courtesy Julie Jordan Scott via Flickr.

What feminism is: the radical notion that women are people. Sign me up! Image courtesy Julie Jordan Scott via Flickr.

Watching you fight the good fights, listening to you explain how it actually is, investigating the evidence you presented, woke me up to some ugly realities. Some of it I didn’t want to face, but watching you battle these entrenched attitudes and all this wrongness, I couldn’t let you do it alone. I couldn’t just stand by and let you struggle to make the world a better place by yourselves.

So yeah, I write a little about it. But the biggest difference you’ve made is in the way I approach other people in my life. There are things I don’t let slide now. There are myths I’m equipped to correct, and do. You showed me how, and you gave me the knowledge I needed, and the courage, and now because of you good people, there are some folks walking around in the world who are just that little bit more aware. Like me, they didn’t know. They didn’t know that so many of the things they’d heard were lies, exaggerations and stereotypes. But you’ve given me the resources to give to them that correct those errors. And a lot of people who were perpetuating those myths turn out to be good people, too, who are happy to change their minds, and grateful to know better.

We don’t often see the difference we’re making, down here in the trenches. Not with the chaff thrown up by those who like the status quo just fine, and don’t want to see it change, either because they don’t want to believe they’ve fallen for harmful lies, or because the present conditions give them advantages, or because they would have to face the harsh fact that they are in fact predatory assholes. Those folks are loud, and fling a lot of shit, and make it difficult to see the people who are quietly changing their minds.

It's sad we still have to march to pound this simple truth into people's heads. It's awesome that so many of us are willing to keep hammering. Image courtesy msmornington via Flickr.

It’s sad we still have to march to pound this simple truth into people’s heads. It’s awesome that so many of us are willing to keep hammering. Image courtesy msmornington via Flickr.

You good people are changing the world. It takes time. It’s godsdamned bloody hard. Often seems like there’s no progress, and sometimes feels like it’s just getting worse. But don’t let despair lie to you. We’re getting there, even with the setbacks. The conversations we’re having now wouldn’t have been possible even a few months ago. People are speaking out who had no voice before.

I’m so glad you brought me around. I’m so grateful I was lucky enough to have been found by you. And I’m proud to be standing beside you.

Thank you.

Cock Roaches II: Wherein a Story is Related

Onamission5 shared this story on our previous post, and it compels me to share for those who may have missed it:

Your roach analogy reminds me of something so I’m going to piggyback a bit and I hope you don’t mind…

Many years ago, a girlfriend of mine and I traveled across the country to a southern state for a music festival. Staying at her parents’ house, I went to use the bathroom one day and out from the baseboards crawled a huge cockroach, quite bold and content to be where my feet were without fear of me stomping on it. I freaked, running out to the living room where my girlfriend’s family was located and informed them of the giant roach, what should I do?? They laughed. Roaches are normal, a part of life here, they said, yes they are gross but you get used to them after a while, besides, they hardly ever come out in the day, they are usually content to patrol the house at night, yes we know they carry all sorts of disease, but what you gonna do?

Cockroach! Image courtesy Ted & Daniel Percival via Flickr.

Cue moving to FL some years later, similar experience to yours with the apartment except our landlords engaged in blaming us for the roach problem that was there when we arrived, saying we must have caused the infestation with our dirty habits (of living the normal lives of busy people with children) because none of their other tenants had complained about roaches before, imploring us to spend hundreds of dollars on plastic containers for our cupboards so the roaches wouldn’t be tempted by our food, we should put our pets on a schedule and keep the pet food dishes clear of leftovers after every feeding, take our garbage out daily, vacuum daily, and engage in all other sorts of “common sense” hypervigilance maneuvers because they were completely unwilling to admit that the roaches were a problem they should deal with. *We* were supposed to alter our lives according to the habits of the roaches, *we* were supposed to spend money we didn’t have to protect ourselves from a problem that our landlords weren’t even willing to admit existed, let alone take steps to solve. We were forbidden on threat of eviction from using “chemicals” on our own. We were forbidden from calling in experts to help us. We tried to follow their instructions, we tried to be good, compliant tenants, but the problem kept getting worse, and after a year of exhausting hypervigilance and increasing denial+hostility from the property owners, we finally gave up and moved.

These experiences mirror my experiences with calling out sexist bullshit, trying to hold people accountable for actions which harm others. The roaches are everywhere, what do you expect, what you gonna do, besides they’re mostly hidden in the walls which is perfectly natural and it’s your fault they come out because you tempted them so you just have to get used to it and suppress your horror and hang your clothes up where the roaches hopefully can’t reach, seal up all your food, show some self discipline, and take your shower/eat your breakfast/attend that conference/frequent that space anyway. Or move, and leave the problem behind for someone else to fall unsuspectingly into.


Cock Roaches: A Cautionary Tale

“Where you see one, there are hundreds more you can’t see,” my stepmother said. She’d gone with me to look at apartments. She’d pulled open a drawer to reveal a dead cockroach beneath. Other than that, the apartment was just what I was looking for, and the managers said they’d take care of the pests before I moved in. So I signed a lease.

It was fine for a while, but then I began noticing the occasional roach. Nothing horrible, and I’m not easily squicked out by insects, but still. You expect to live roach-free when you’re paying to live in a middling-decent place. So I called the managers, and they called the exterminator.

That seemed to help, but within weeks, the roaches were back. And breeding. Roaches big and small, bold and cowardly, multiplying exponentially. The more persistent ones got the Rolled Up Magazine o’ Doom. But for every one I whacked, it seemed a dozen more would flood in. I kept the place exquisitely clean, took out the trash promptly, swept up – and still they swarmed. They left their detritus everywhere: droppings, corpses, egg cases. People say that cockroaches scatter and hide when the lights go on, but not these. Bold as brass they were, and positively preened in the spotlight.

Cockroaches feeding on a mango stone in a gully somewhere at manila bay. Image and caption courtesy Ric_K on Flickr.

Cockroaches feeding on a mango stone in a gully somewhere at manila bay. Image and caption courtesy Ric_K on Flickr.

The exterminator became a regular presence. And he did try. But, as he explained, we were fighting a losing battle. Management was trying to handle the problem one apartment at a time, but that just meant the roaches could skitter off one apartment over and wait until the poison was no longer potent before swarming back. You’d get a few of the dumber ones, but the rest would survive. And management wouldn’t take the sensible step of having the entire building done.

So the roaches thrived.

Even when we fogged my apartment, that didn’t stop them for long. They’d just scamper off, then come back.

In the end, because management wouldn’t adequately handle the problem, I had to move to get away from them. A few stowed away in boxes and plagued me in the new place, but weren’t as successful there (probably because of rather more aggressive pest control), and a second move rid me of them entirely.

But I wouldn’t have had to deal with that if the first complex had done the right thing to begin with.

Our community has a cock roach problem.

We’ve tried to eliminate them from some of our spaces, but they skitter off and hide in safe places until they can sneak back to plague us. So far, many of the people in management positions have done the slumlord thing of denying the problem. Some have done what my complex did: the minimum, never adequately dealing with the problem. And some have done a brilliant job of ridding their spaces of cock roaches, but without a coordinated, concerted effort by all in the community, the cock roaches will always have a safe place to go. And we’ll always be plagued with them.

That’s unacceptable.

We shouldn’t have to deal with this problem. It’s not something you can just put up with. No one should have to carry a metaphorical Rolled Up Magazine o’ Doom to fend the cock roaches off with.

We have choices.

We can do our best to force management to face the problem and deal effectively with it.

If they refuse to do that, we can move. Build our own community and keep it cock roach free. It’s difficult and expensive, but may be the only thing left.

Because ignoring the problem is no longer an option. These predatory men I’m talking about aren’t like real cockroaches, annoying and gross but mostly harmless (and in some ways, beautiful and fascinating creatures you may not mind having around, if you enjoy critters). Our infestation is one of men* who feel entitled to harm, assault, traumatize, and sometimes rape their victims.

I’m not willing to live in a community that includes them. Nor, I daresay, are you. But I’m not yet willing to leave the community to the cock roaches. I’d rather try to force the orgs into throwing them out first. It shouldn’t be the victims who have to flee the community.

I want to see the victimizers unceremoniously tossed out, and never allowed to return. We should demand no less.


Inspired by Amy.


*Yes, women can be predatory, and it isn’t any more acceptable. But the overwhelming majority of perpetrators are, in fact, men. And so I will not use the generic people here.

One Year to the Day

One year and one day ago, back when I was a smoker:

Vanna Whiting a hummock at Coldwater Lake, August 4, 2013. Snapped by Cujo359.

Vanna Whiting a hummock at Coldwater Lake, August 4, 2013. Snapped by Cujo359.

ZOMG I miss those shorts…

One year ago, when I was a non-smoker:

Suzanne and I in front of a truck that didn't survive the May 18th eruption. August 5, 2013. Photography by Cujo359.

Suzanne and I in front of a truck that didn’t survive the May 18th eruption. August 5, 2013. Photography by Cujo359.

ZOMG, I miss those pants…

Anyway. Yes. Just realized, going through photos from last year’s Mount St. Helens jaunt, that it’s been a full year since I’ve lit a cigarette. I miss the shorts and pants I used to fit in to, mostly because they don’t seem to make decent shorts for women anymore and I loved those capris, but it’s not often I miss smoking. Oh, here and there, when I’m bored or shopping or just randomly out of nowhere, I’ll get a craving, kind of like feeling a phantom limb. It goes away nearly immediately, though. I don’t miss the smell, or the expense, or the hacking of a morning. I finally met my goal of gaining five pounds (and kept on till I gained 30). This means I don’t get as many people wondering if I’m anorexic, then wondering if I’m bulimic after they’ve seen me eat. Which is nice.

I’ve forged an identity as an ex-smoker now, so I don’t feel quite as not-me as I did when I first quit. Wellbutrin took care of the stress, and has done far more for me than nicotine ever did. And I can run, which I couldn’t do back then. So it’s nice to be ex. Figure I’ll keep on keeping on until the opportunity to take up the habit again is gone forever. Very hard to inhale a nice deep puff o’ smoke when you’re no longer breathing, amirite?

Tell you something, too: everything tastes better. Hence the 30 pounds. Food and I, we’ve become bosom buddies. I’m not as mouthy as when I first quit, but despite not needing to constantly have a cigarette substitute in the cakehole, I’m still loving the eating. Oy. In fact, I think I’ll do some more of that before bed, here.

Thank you for all your encouragement and cheerleading and commiserating, my darlings. You got me through those initial difficult times (Chantix made it much less difficult, but you lot gave me the will). You did it! Now you can stop worrying, because if I’ve done 365 days without wishing I could go back, I never will. And even if I start having fond memories, the knowledge of what you’ll do to me if I backslide will keep me from breaking down. :-)

Besides, I’m spending all my spare cash on food. And adventures. And books. And new pants. And lotsa other stuff. That’s as addictive as the cigarettes were, and far more fun.

Should any of you need a cheerleading section as you embark on your own career as an ex-smoker, let me know. Ye olde lungs can hold a lot more air than previously, so I should be able to give you a good shout!

Someone’s Been Living in an Alternate Reality Again

Ho, hum, another day, another dumbfuck claiming atheists have no basis for morality. I see Avi’s given them a right proper fisking. Good thing he’s a good writer, because this shallow shite’s points look like they came off an apologetics-for-assclowns site. Oh, my heck, does our Avi have patience. I’d’ve chucked this garbage in the trash after the first paragraph. This is just so century before last – ooo, what’s this?

3. A Moral, Simple and Convincing Justification for moral compasses

But it may surprise the reader to learn that a universal and convincing justification does indeed exist. One that is grounded neither in the coercive power of fear of punishment in the hereafter (as offered by most religions), nor in man’s selfishness (as attempted by some secular ethicists). One that is already available to approximately a third of the world’s population. The secular inability to justify the various secular moral compasses is in stark contrast with this moral, simple and extremely convincing justification.

No hellfire-and-damnation? No eternal reward? But not secular? Omigosh, whatever could this magic justification be?!


Spill it!

What is this justification if not heaven or hell, you may ask?

I just did! What, you want it notarized? It’s already in writing. Sheesh.

What is able to thoroughly justify an unselfish moral message of neighbourly love? One that promises no selfish reward, yet seems capable of propelling many of its followers to selflessly disregard their own well-being in their efforts to improve the lives of the poor, the ill and the downtrodden in the most backward parts of the world?  What if not the fear of hell or the reward of heaven can propel one to act in this way? Why ever disregard your own wellbeing for the benefit of others?

What’s this reminding me of? Oh, right.

Heffer and Filburt encounter difficulties whilst dressing up as Mr. Bighead. Just one of the countless delights that awaits those who watch Nickelodeon's Rocko's Modern Life, now available on Amazon Instant Video! WOOT!

Heffer and Filburt encounter difficulties whilst dressing up as Mr. Bighead. Just one of the countless delights that awaits those who watch Nickelodeon’s Rocko’s Modern Life, now available on Amazon Instant Video! WOOT! Click the photo for the cartoon with a quote for every situation.

Heffer: This guy’s asking too many questions! What do I do?

Filburt: I don’t know… mmmmmm… Punch him!

Nah. Awesome episode, but one must not take (many) life lessons from cartoon shows, no matter how great. Violence isn’t the proper response to a pompous arsemunch. My moral compass is pointing due-Exit. These flip-flops are made for walkin’, which is what I’ll do if Doofus doesn’t get to the point soon.

This non-coercive, moral, simple and extremely convincing justification seems unique to none other than the Christian message and faith.


The primary justification of the moral compass from the Christian message seems neither to be fear of God nor that of hell.

Stahp! STAHP! Owowow my ribs!

*snifflesnortwheeze* Woah nellie, you sure are a hoot! That’s some premium comedy right there, I mean, wow, I can’t even – what, what, you’re serious?

This makes Christianity quite distinct from other religions that usually hold this coercive type of justification only.


skeptical cat

You know, that’s an interesting interpretation of the subject, but the founders of Christianity would like a word with you.

“I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” - Matthew 3:11-12


“Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.” - Matthew 7:19


“Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell.” - Matthew 10:28


“Just as the weeds are collected and burned up with fire, so will it be at the end of the age. The Son of Man will send his angels, and they will collect out of his kingdom all causes of sin and all evildoers, and they will throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Let anyone with ears listen!” - Matthew 13:40-43


“If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life maimed than to have two hands and to go to hell, to the unquenchable fire. And if your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life lame than to have two feet and to be thrown into hell. And if your eye causes you to stumble, tear it out; it is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and to be thrown into hell, where their worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched.” - Mark 9:43-48


The one who believes and is baptized will be saved; but the one who does not believe will be condemned. - Mark 16:16

That Jesus Christ fella was a real shit, always running around and threatening non-believers with eternal torture, and dangling a nice, shiny Heaven in front of the sheeple who’d swallow his shit whole. He’s clearly got nothing to do with Christiani – oh, dear. Apparently he does.

Also, too, and furthermore, it looks like a lotta Bible-believing churches didn’t get the memo about “grounded neither in the coercive power of fear of punishment in the hereafter… nor in man’s selfishness.”

Church sign: Where will you be sitting in eternity? Smoking or non-smoking

Image via Postkiwi.

Billboard: Without Jesus Christ (image of pitchfork) You'll spend eternity with Me! (image of Satan)

Image via Mindspring.

Church sign: I kissed a girl and I liked it. Then I went to Hell.

via Lucien Maverick’s Blog.

Church sign: Son screen prevents sin burn.

via Jonathan Sigmon

Billboard: It's your choice... heaven or Hell. Read John 3:36

via Friendly Atheist

Ah. Right. John 3:36: “Whoever believes in the Son has eternal life, but whoever rejects the Son will not see life, for God’s wrath remains on them.” Yes, very… “grounded neither in the coercive power of fear of punishment in the hereafter… nor in man’s selfishness,” that.

Gee. I wonder what Jesus would say about those signs?

Buddy Christ via eBaum's World.

Buddy Christ via eBaum’s World.

Considering the dude was always on about “fire” this and “wailing and gnashing of teeth” that, I don’t imagine he’d have any concerns.

Look, I could go on for the rest of the year with the awful Bible verses and shit Jesus spewed – believe me, it wouldn’t be difficult to find Christian after Christian who’s firmly convinced that we’ll get rewarded or punished by Big Skydaddy depending on whether we slobber on Junior’s sandals adequately or not. Plenty more who’ll tell you there’s a hell and a heaven, and your good and bad acts determine which you end up in. People have been converted to Christianity, kept trapped in it, by that particular carrot-stick combo. So don’t try to sell me this bullshit about Christianity having some amazing unique non-coercive moral rationale, because it’s coercive as shit. I can’t help it if you happen to be an assnugget with severe reading comprehension problems and a talent for convincing yourself that up is down and strong-arm is gentle persuasion. But don’t come around to atheists and try to sell that rancid pile of rotten fish, unless of course you like having your nose rubbed in it. Capisce?

Here endeth the lesson. Have a nice day.