An Atheist’s Christmas

So I saw a tweet today (I won’t link–go search if you want) that went “FACT: athiests(sic) CANNOT celebrate Christmas. #youreallhypocrites” Silly person; celebrating what currently goes by the name “christmas” started long before her religion did, and trying to tell people they aren’t allowed to eat and drink and celebrate with friends and family just because they aren’t in your club is an exercise in futility. Face it: Christmas is a secular holiday, celebrated by many and ignored by many.

Anyway, this verse is from all the way back in 2007; I was recently reminded of it because someone wrote to ask permission to use it in their family christmas cards. So I’ll tell you more or less what I told them: feel free. If you do anything commercial, we gotta talk. If you want to stuff something in my stocking, there’s a button over at the bottom right hand side of this page. And yes, it’s early for this, but that tweet was just today, and it was a week or so ago that my reader asked, so apparently it’s not too early for people to be thinking about such things.

It’s a really sweet verse, but now I’ve written enough that I’m gonna have to put it after the jump: [Read more…]

‘Tis The Season

Two things. First, although I have not yet seen a full-blown apoplectic Fox News meltdown on it yet (perhaps I just missed it), little hints here and there tell us that the annual War On Christmas has begun. So without further ado, this year’s song:

In mega-malls and coffee shops
In giant chains and mom-and-pops
The mistletoe and holly have been decked
The garland—silver, red, and green
Has been in place since Halloween
In store displays we’ve all come to expect
Employees dressed as helpful elves
Are stringing lights and stocking shelves
And spraying trees with artificial snow
And everywhere, the carols play
There’s no place you can get away
Cos Christmas is endangered, don’t you know?

I’m gearing up for this year’s war on Christmas
It’s gonna be a knock-down, drag-out fight!
I’m pissed off and I’m ranty, cos
It’s two full months of santy claus
And all I really want’s a silent night

We see displays in family yards
And messages in greeting cards
Which use an anti-Christian sort of phrase
Though everywhere across the earth
They’re celebrating Jesus’ birth
They use the PC “Happy Holidays”
I’ve seen examples by the scores
In catalogs and online stores
As well as at some places here in town
As everybody celebrates,
Their choice of phrases demonstrates
Their real agenda’s tearing Christmas down!

I’m gearing up for this year’s war on Christmas
It’s gonna be the worst you’ve ever seen
A little bad behavior’s worth
The selling of our savior’s birth
And doing so since not quite Halloween

We’re gathering with friends, to go
Despite the cold, despite the snow,
Sing carols for the old folks down the street
Surrounded by the happy greetings,
Hugs and kisses, merry meetings,
Smiles on all the faces that we meet.
We’re celebrating life and love
And not some savior from above
Our Christmas is a secular affair
Cos Christmas is for everyone—
Believe, or not, it’s still just fun
And if that thought offends you, I don’t care

I’m gearing up for this year’s war on Christmas
The birthday of our savior Jesus Christ
And what the hell, if this myth fails
There’s always after-Christmas sales
Where underwear and liquor are half priced

Yes, there is a tune, no, I won’t be able to post it. Yes, it needs a little polishing still, but I don’t have time for that. Why, after the jump: [Read more…]

The Worms Go In…

“… I reckon I’d be a pretty miserable, angry person with a chip on my shoulder if I also believed that I was no more than worm meat at the end of the day.” –from an email to PZ, a couple of years ago. I’m reposting this one from the old blog, because A) it bookends the “nothing to live for” verse of a couple days ago, B) it was also featured on the Good Funeral Guide blog I wrote about yesterday, and C) I can’t believe I hadn’t already reposted it. I am told that this verse has actually been used at some living wakes, for people who aren’t yet dead.

When we are dead, we’ll feed the worms
And other stuff that writhes and squirms
And if you cannot come to terms
With that—well, use your head!
There are no ifs nor ands nor buts:
Bacteria within our guts
Will start to eat us; that is what’s
In store, once we are dead.

Yes, life is short and full of toil,
And when we’ve shuffled off this coil
Our carcasses will start to spoil—
There’s nothing wrong with that.
Our share of fish or pigs or cows,
And all the chicken time allows,
Is done. It’s only fair that now’s
The worms’ turn to get fat.

Should we die young, or old and gray,
The laws of nature we’ll obey
And spend our heat in mere decay,
Replenishing the Earth;
“Three score and twelve” may be our years
For love and laughter, hope and fears
And then—mere smoke—life disappears;
No heaven, no rebirth.

And with no heaven up above
Nor hell we ought be frightened of
It’s best we fill our lives with love,
With learning, and with fun!
Don’t waste a lifetime while you wait
For halo, wings, and pearly gate—
This is your life, so get it straight:
You only get the one!

I’ll have no moment lost to prayer,
To cleanse my soul and thus prepare
For passage to… THERE’S NOTHING THERE!
Those moments, all, are wasted!
I’m only here a little time
Before it’s bugs and worms and slime;
I’ll eat and drink my life so I’m
Delicious when I’m tasted!

Over My Dead Body

I was listening to NPR the other day (it was brief, and I don’t remember which program it was that I heard a snippet of), and heard a man speak of the death of his mother, which happened many years after he and his siblings had left the Catholic Church. As non-believers, and more importantly, as individuals independent of any faith traditions, he and his siblings were at a loss: what do you do with the body? Not in the sense of “do we just let her lie there and decompose?”, but more in the sense that they had no rituals, no traditions to follow. (More, after the jump:) [Read more…]

Nothing To Live For

It seems to me there was a post here on FtB that explored the notion that “atheists have nothing to live for”, but I can’t find it. Maybe the upgrade ate it, or maybe I hallucinated it, but it got me thinking. And writing, trying to put myself into the shoes of someone who really thinks that this amazing, beautiful world is “nothing”. If you happen to see that post, let me know and I will link it here. Anyway, this verse is longer than my usual ones, so it goes after the jump: [Read more…]

Making Amends At Penn State

We could have called the cops, I guess,
In fact, I wish we had;
We might have done the proper thing
We didn’t, though—our bad.
If maybe we’d done anything
We’d not be here today.
But now it’s time to set things right…
That’s right; it’s time to pray.

The victims and their families
Have suffered for our sins
Too late now to prevent; the time
For penitence begins.
We didn’t do the least we could;
We shuffled and delayed;
The time has come to make amends…
I think it’s time we prayed.

It’s our responsibility
Since we’re the ones who failed
Our shame keeps growing deeper as
The charges are detailed.
It’s time for us to bow our heads
And pray with all our might
For god to touch these poor boys’ hearts…
And that will set things right

More after the jump: [Read more…]

Daylight Savings

This was not the hour I wanted back—
A useless hour I missed, in bed asleep
And dreaming something meaningless. A black
Room and troubled rest, I would not keep,
Let alone choose to repeat. Why couldn’t this
Have been the last hour I spent with my brother?
My daughter’s first laugh? My first kiss?
A decent meal? Or nearly any other
Hour, nearly any other moment at all?
If I could make a bargain with the powers
That decide these things—could I not recall
Any number of more meaningful hours?
The hour may change, but dawn still comes at dawn;
The clocks turn back; the time’s forever gone

Yeah, I know. I still hate it.

Headline Muse, 10/31

Tom Keith was a master of sound
What he did with his voice would astound
Now I’m empty inside
Cos I hear that he’s died
And his equal may never be found.

Headline: Tom Keith, ‘A Prairie Home Companion’s’ Sound Guy, Has Died

Tom Keith was amazing. I listened to PHC just to hear what he could do. See, the thing is, I do that too. In my classes. I provide all the sound effects to my stories–I thought everybody did, but in observing other teachers, I find this not to be the case.

Some people have their little dreams of playing catch with their sports hero, or acting with their favorite star, or hanging out with Stephen Hawking. Me, I wanted a guest gig on PHC, dueling sound effects with Tom Keith.

Gotta scratch that one off the list, unaccomplished.

Trick Or Treat With Jesus

Jesus came back from the dead tonight
(He said he had done it before)
He took to the streets in the Bible Belt
With the children in masks, door to door.

With pirates, and goblins, and heroes, and ghosts
Came the Savior, the true child of God
On the streets where the Christian majority lives
It was more than a little bit odd:

Wherever they stopped, the people would guess
(Cos that’s what the homeowner does)
Though Jesus was Jesus, and not in disguise
Not one of them knew who He was.

The Jesus they know is the one they created,
Who thinks like, and looks like, themselves
Whose stories they hear in their sermons, but not
In the bibles that sit on their shelves.

If Jesus existed, if Jesus was real,
If He died on the cross for our sins
He wouldn’t want gays to be punished for love
Or care if a Democrat wins.

He wouldn’t want lies taught to children in school;
He wouldn’t want homeless to freeze
The weakest and weariest crying for help
In a system that’s deaf to their pleas

I worry, you know, for the Christian Right—
And (of course) for the human race—
When Jesus himself goes from door to door
And no one knows his face

Hey, the power was out; I had to do something.

Oakland Lullaby

MSNBC anchor: “In Oakland, police fired tear gas to calm down the crowd.”

Hushabye, hushabye, rest your sweet head
The tear gas is fired, the rioters fled,
The bullets are rubber; we’re saving the lead
Hushabye, hushabye, darling…

Hushabye, hushabye, close your sweet eyes
The tear gas would give them a sorry surprise
So looking about you is rather unwise
Hushabye, hushabye, darling…

Hushabye, hushabye, draw down the shades
The darkness approaches, the day softly fades
There’s no need to witness the flash-bang grenades
Hushabye, hushabye, darling…

Hushabye, hushabye, darling, now rest
Sleep like an angel; sleep heaven-blessed
Sleep while your momma is under arrest
Hushabye, hushabye, darling…

Hushabye, hushabye, time now to snooze
Nothing to see here, we’ve turned off the news
So no one can see when policemen abuse
Hushabye, hushabye, darling…

Hushabye, hushabye, here in the dark
No need to worry about folks in the park
It isn’t a fire; it’s only a spark
Hushabye, hushabye, darling…

(Yes, there is a particular tune, but any sleep-starved parent could come up with one equally as good. It’s quiet, gentle, and would put any baby to sleep. Even in Oakland.)