Maybe that’s why I feel the way I do.
Maybe that’s why I feel the way I do.
Recently, the commentariat(tm) was joined by a christian believer, who managed to drag a fairly minor thread into a gigantic, sprawling debate by responding to philosophical enquiries with glibly well-intentioned bafflegab.
But I think it’s OK to gloat about some really fine, distilled, coronavirus irony. I guess I’m just a nasty person; well, that’s who’s running the world today so I’d better jump on the bandwagon.
Back in the day, the church could send its minions forth to rend and suppress books, shred their authors, and do battle against entire philosophies.
The disciples of Pythagoras had an implicit faith in their Master’s doctrine: “HE HAS SAID IT!” was for them the solution of all problems.
If, closing our eyes upon all that transpires in this world, we should rely upon the votaries of the Christian religion, we would believe that the coming of our Divine Saviour has produced the most wonderful revolution and the most complete reform in the morals of nations.
Nothing says “god loves you” like when he sends one of his creatures to eat you.
Theologians tell and repeat to us that man is free, while all their teachings conspire to destroy his liberty. Trying to justify Divinity, they accuse him really of the blackest injustice. They suppose that, without grace, man is compelled to do evil: and they maintain that God will punish him for not having been given the grace to do good!
“Cursing” is a left-over of the jewish restrictions on saying “Yahweh”
(AKA: “the unpronouncable god”) – saying the name of god was punishable by death, so, uh, let’s call it (mumble) because a supreme being won’t be able to tell we’re talking about it if we refer to it as “Monique.”
We are assured that the dogma of another life is of the greatest importance to the peace of society; it is imagined that without it men would have no motives for doing good. Why do we need terrors and fables to teach any reasonable man how he ought to conduct himself upon earth?