Dirty Damn Filthy Damn Atheist!

Make A Joyful Noise

2012-01-22T16:21:00.000-08:00

WAR ON CHRISTMAS: Weapons Catalog 2011

2011-12-24T10:16:00.000-08:00

Hey, everybody! Long time, I know. I've been busy getting ready for this year's War On Christmas. 'Cause, you know, who am I to make a liar out of Bill O'Reilly?

Most of my preparations have been in the design and commissioning of cutting-edge weapons and materiel for our troops to use in our ongoing crusade against The Baby Jesus, The American Way and "It's A Wonderful Life" (see Atheist War Memo 9-78: Operation Bedford Falling). We atheists take our War On Christmas all seriously and stuff, so obviously these preparations were made carefully, conscientiously and with great anti-religious vitriol.

So! What are we using to destroy happiness this year? Well, let's start with--

X-97 "J-BUSTER" APC (Atheist Personnel Carrier)

Implementing the latest in anti-gravity technology (a result of our tireless search for new ways to subvert God's natural laws with science), the "J-Buster" is the last word in carrying around our Hell-bound asses and deploying them on the front lines. With a capacity of 4 atheists (why only 4? Well, we're a minority, right?) and with plenty of room for their weapons, library cards and Richard Dawkins books, the "J-Buster" guarantees a smooth, comfortable ride to malls, courthouses and other public places where we struggle to take Christmas away from everyone everywhere. [NOTE: As more and more X-97s are produced, the previously-deployed V180 "Grinchmobile" will slowly be decommissioned and given to charity. Not like anyone would notice.)

DHA THAC0-9 LASER

ZAP ZAP ZAP! Troublesome banners, holly wreaths and other high-mounted symbols of God's love will be troublesome no more with this monster on the front lines! The THAC0-9 Laser utilizes a gyroscopic platform for stability (useful, since it's widely known that atheists are unstable) and advanced computer-aided targeting. Quad laser cannons take care of The Father, The Son AND The Holy Ghost with plenty of firepower left for...I dunno, what? A camel? Or I guess you could use it to take out the Three Wise Men and One Other Guy, but who would it be...? Ummm...Well, look, it's a laser. Lasers are science. Evolution is science. Evolution is evil. Therefore, lasers are evil, and this is four times it.

MK.III "SOULLESS"-CLASS COMBAT AUTOMATON

An update of the Mk.II, first deployed in 2005, the new model has a snazzy new rifle and cool angry eyes. Still devoid of a soul, it allows us to take up Pascal on his wager, since everyone knows that we atheists are secretly afraid of God's judgment.

WTF-1 LOOK OF SKEPTICAL DISBELIEF
Still standard-issue, this year's WTF-1 has been slightly upgraded in response to changing battlefield conditions. Extensive testing ensures that "The Look" can be successfully deployed in response to Rick Perry TV ads, Doomsday Predictions and anything that Michelle Bachmann says.

All right, atheists! You have your new orders, new weapons and new targets. Go out and commit acts of anti-Christian terrorism by, you know, asking that the theists follow the Constitution and stuff!

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of satire. None of those weapons are real, there is no "Atheist War on Christmas", and Michelle Bachmann is a cartoon character.

This Is How Much I Hate Religion

2011-08-05T10:01:00.000-07:00

In the context of a conversation about who-knows-what, a friend of mine remarked that I, as an atheist, hate religion.

This makes sense, right? I mean, saying that an atheist hates religion is like saying that day follows night or that Jenny's phone number is 867-5309. It's science! Right? Right? RIGHT?!

"ASKED YOU A QUESTION!!"

Well...

...let's slow down a minute, you and me, and think about hate.

Hate is a curious thing. We're saddled with it as an emotion, but it's not damn likely to do anyone any real good. It's a nasty thing to feel; I know I don't like it. Trouble is -- we're only human, so we can have it.

Hatred.

Luckily, we don't have to experience it. At most, all you need to avoid feeling it is a little bit of emotional maturity and some self-control. To top it off, most, you know, sane individuals have several degrees of anger to burn through before they hit that wall; you kinda have to be go out of your way to get that freaking angry. It doesn't take any magic or special Mentat training, it just takes a healthy understanding of your own emotions, and of what good it does you to feel any of 'em.

Needless to say, I don't hate anything. I just don't go there. I get mad, yeah; frustrated, displeased...but I don't let things get to me THAT much. Is that weird? Am I part Vulcan? I dunno. I just don't hate.

"Them haters gonna hate...what they do ain't nothin' new."

Now that we've established that, let's move on to the next logical question: ~~Where are the strippers~~ How do I feel about religion?

At best, religions are serviceable means of psychological comfort couched in silly beliefs and superstitions; at worst, well...they can always get worse. I think that we'd be better off without them, and I think that they rarely -if ever- provide anything that common sense cannot (from cosmology to ethics). I think they're an idea whose time is over, a sway that is easy to abuse, a mistake to make.

But, c'mon -- hate religion?

Why bother?

Sam Harris says "Kill The Buddha"

2011-03-20T07:45:00.000-07:00

Ha! No, no, you're not reading I Waste The Buddha With My Crossbow (although you should, because it is the greatest blogging achievement in the field of table-top adventure gaming, 80's pop culture references and stupid jokes about "dowser-trousers").

No, my homies, I just ran across this article, see -- "Killing The Buddha", by Sam Harris. In his piece, Harris argues that worship of the Buddha as a religious figure is actually to Buddhism's detriment.

I agree with him.

Being an atheist does not mean being closed-minded. It means not being convinced of the existence of a supernatural power that is to be worshiped. Atheists are skeptics, they have a naturalistic world view and prefer free thought without dogmatic principles.

That's why I'm totally in Sam's corner when he says,

"[T]he continued identification of Buddhists with Buddhism lends tacit support to the religious differences in our world. At this point in history, this is both morally and intellectually indefensible—especially among affluent, well-educated Westerners who bear the greatest responsibility for the spread of ideas. It does not seem much of an exaggeration to say that if you are reading this article, you are in a better position to influence the course of history than almost any person in history. Given the degree to which religion still inspires human conflict, and impedes genuine inquiry, I believe that merely being a self-described “Buddhist” is to be complicit in the world’s violence and ignorance to an unacceptable degree."

Later on he compares Buddhism to science, and goes on to point out that, if freed from its religious framing, Buddhism could be a very positive force for good.

I've been thinking that for years, myself.

My home town is the location of the Tibetan Mongolian Buddhist Cultural Center. It's not uncommon to see the monks shopping for shoes at the mall, or walking together downtown. They always seem to be in such a good mood. I've long thought that, based on what little I've known about Buddhism, these guys would really rock if they dropped the Woo, maybe stopped denying themselves so many of life's simple pleasures and just focused on saying, "Dude, ease up. Take a minute or two to relax and think about how weird Life is, and make your peace with it."

Plus, maybe then they could teach me to relax. It'd be an epic achievement, though, so they'll have to work in teams.

Looser Morals Than A Disassembled Stripper

2011-03-17T10:04:00.000-07:00

As we all know, being godless means that you lack any kind of moral center. With no divine guidance in matters of right and wrong, you cannot possibly know the difference, no matter how much you insist that you do. Ergo, the godless are a bunch of violent, corrupt, immoral outlaws, getting away with whatever they can, raising hell and making Juggalos pale with terror.

Because of on account of no god.

'Cause right and wrong are defined by gods. Or a god. Right? Right? Right?

Wrong.

I can't, wouldn't, won't and don't want to speak for all atheists, but ten'll getcha thirty-three-point-seven-five-five-recurring that the rest of 'em would agree with me when I say, yes atheists have a moral center, no it doesn't come from a divine dictate, and dude is it easy to just have one.

So where did I get mine? Simple -- from being born a human, learning from my mistakes and experiencing my own emotions and comparing them to the emotions of others.

In other words, from being alive.

Let's get an example up in this joint, shall we? Let's pick something simple -- let's go wiiiiiiith...stealing. Stealing is considered immoral. I don't steal.

But why not? I'm not afraid of God's punishment, right? I can get away with whatever I --

NO. No, I CAN'T. And I don't want to even try. And here's why.

When I was a kid, in Mexico, I stole some stuff. Details would take too long, but suffice to say that my therapist explained that I was most likely acting out in defiance over the whole having-been-kidnapped thing. Fact is, theft.

I didn't get away with it. Oh, no. My Dad caught on. And my Dad was very good at punishment, and I got some Grade-A top-shelf award-winning some of that. LESSON LEARNED: STEAL, GET CAUGHT, CONSEQUENCES.

So why didn't I just try to get better at it? People can do that, after all -- hell, they can get real good at it, leveling up and stuff even. People can develop those talents to great extremes!


Pictured: Well-Developed "Talents".

Well, sure, with practice you can. But, me, I'm lazy, so screw that. To top it off, after I swiped the money from my Dad and bought some toys, what did I have?

Stuff. Stuff that I had to keep hidden. My situation was not alleviated in any way -- 'fact, it was made worse. I had no joy; I had stuff. LESSON LEARNED: STUFF ≠ HAPPINESS, ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU FEEL GUILTY ABOUT IT.

Later in my life, I had the tables turned on me. In high school I had a Walkman that my Dad had sent me for my birthday. I put it in my locker, went to class, came back -- POOF, gone. Stolen.

Man, I was pissed. That was MY WALKMAN, man! Mine! That was for me to have and enjoy, and listen to the Eddie And The Cruisers Soundtrack on the bus instead of that damned Amy Grant "Baby, Baby" song! Some unscrupulous jackass, some selfish jackwad had taken that away from me, the knob-gobbler! What a dick! LESSON LEARNED: THIEVES ARE DICKS.


Also, a self-justifying character class that really wasn't necessary...but I digress.

In typical human fashion, I added up all those lessons in an unconscious way and lo and behold, they came to form part of my basic, guiding psychology. My morals, if you will. Nor did I want to take the risk of getting caught, nor would I have been satisfied by the success, nor did I want to be a jerk who infringes upon other people's rights and happiness. Done.

THOSE are the consequences of immoral action. There's no need for punishment from divine forces, deferred until after death; the consequences are right HERE, right NOW, in LIFE. I can tell right from wrong because I can think and I have feelings.

Ahhh, some might say -- but I have those feelings because God gave them to me! So, in a sense, if God hadn't given them to me, I'd be...I dunno, like a New Wave Jack The Ripper or something.

"Don't You Want Me, Bay-Beh? Don't You Want Me, Whoa-oa-hoaaa?!"

And yet, I am not. I can't be. I can't go around doing bad stuff to people because, frankly, I'd feel bad. My compassion overrides my animal instinct to do as I please and damn the rest. There are probably good biological reasons why it befits us to have that compassion, and why it won out over pure, naked-assed greed in the Natural election Sweepstakes. I think that there are such reasons, but that is for another time.

New Wave Jack The Ripper...man, I oughtta be taking notes...! Does this stuff get saved, somewhere...?

Okay, So I'm Doin' This.

2011-03-16T20:10:00.000-07:00

Hi. I'm Doc Rotwang!. You might remember me from such industrial education films as They Call Him Dr Rotwang!, Dr Rotwang! Is His Name and Stay Out Of the Cardboard Smasher. Or perhaps you have read my other blog, I Waste The Buddha With My Crossbow (which is actually about table-top role-playing games, my 1980's pop culture fixation, New Wave music and whatever absurdity I'm in the mood for -- but I digress). Or maybe you don't know me from a jumbo jar of pickles at Wal-Mart. That's OK, too. It'll keep things interesting!

AaaaAAAAaaaAAAAny-old-way, I'm the dirty damn filthy damn atheist of this blog's title. My other blog wasn't really the place for some of the stuff I want to say, so I started this one on the side.

So! Let's get to know me, shall we? We can do that via my favorite method of self-introduction -- THE FAKE QUESTION-AND-ANSWER SESSION!

Q: What's that thing on your head?
A: Uhhh...it's...it's my hair.

Q: It needs to be cut soon.
A: I know. Questions?

Q: Why don't you go get a hairc--
A: -- I meant about this blog, and atheism, and, you know, like that.

Q: So, how long have you been an atheist?
A: I have only really been identifying myself as an atheist for the last...I dunno, 18 months or so. But I've been what you call an atheist since I was abooooooouut...I dunno, about 5 or 6 years old. 30 years? Thereabouts.

Q: WAAAIT, WAITwaitwaitwaitwait. How does a kindergartener become an atheist?!
A: I didn't become an atheist. I think it's more accurate to say that it was at that age that I started to form solid doubts about the existence of an unseen powerful being up in the sky and so forth.

I remember two specific incidents that led up to that development. One was in the backyard of an aunt's house. My aunt is fairly religious, and would take me to church, Sunday School, like that. Anyway, I was playing in the back yard, right, climbing on a big mound of dirt -- my aunt and uncle were building a new house. Climbing the "mountain" of dirt made me think of the story of Abraham being told by God that he had to take his son up the mountain and kill him -- kill him for God.

Oh, sure, God let Abe and the kid off the hook, but I remember thinking: "That story's about doing whatever God tells you to do. So God told Abraham to kill a little boy? And Abraham was going to do it?! That's...mean! Mean and stupid! What if God told me to kill someone? Would I be bad if I didn't do it?" All of a sudden, God and Jesus were starting to look a little sketchy.

The other one is funnier, but in a sense it's a perfect compliment to the above -- and totally the kind of thing that would influence a little boy's thinking. It was a conversation that went like this:

"Granny? Does God make cars?"

"No."

"So who makes cars? People?"

"Uh-huh."

Really? Not even -- really?!

...So much for God's might, man.

Q: So that was that? You refused to believe in God at that point?
A: Well, that was kind of the scaffolding upon which my disbelief was built. Later on, between the ages of 7 and 13, I lived in Mexico. In Mexican culture, there's a set hierarchy: GOD, MOM, SOCCER. I didn't like soccer (or any sports), my Mom was back here in the States (I'd been kidnapped -- and, no, I am not joking) and God was already a dubious concept. I went through the motions, trying to believe in the magic -- more from immersion and inescapability than anything else.

From 1983 to '84, I lived right across the street from a Catholic church. On Sunday mornings I'd be sent there for mass, possibly to get me out of the house. I'd go over and I'd listen and shrug; most of it was boring, and I really resented being forced to go stand and get bored for however long those things take. Then I was told that I'd undergo Catechism, because that's what proper boys aged 9-12 or so do in Mexico. Also, because I was believed to have demonic eyes. (Again, NOT MAKING THIS UP.)


It's been almost 30 years, but I think this was it.

So I started going across the street with my little book, and talking to the priest -- a Spaniard, as I recall. There I was, aged...what, 8? 9? asking the dude questions. I don't even remember what...but I remember his reaction:

"Look, you need to stop asking questions and just learn your Catechism."

...

...

Q: ...And then...?
A: And then, I basically forgot about the whole thing. The trappings of Catholicism were all over the place, and I kind of paid lip service to them in a superstitious way. I think I was more interested in the crazy intersection of religion, fear and folklore that permeates rural Mexico, and that's what kept me interested. Interested -- but never convinced.

Q: It's getting late. Can we pick this up later?
A: What, you getting tired already?

Q: Man, it's like 11 PM!
A: Oh. Oh, yeah. Huh!

Q: Anything you want to leave off with?
A:

¡VIVA MEXICO!