Brief "I am so fucked" hiatus

Dear Internet:

Jen’s honors thesis is due Monday, but she thought it was due Tuesday. Jen is still analyzing her data, and the computer decided to crash and erase some of her annotations (but thankfully not the core data). Jen also didn’t realize that the Department head needed to read, approve, and sign said thesis before she could turn it in. Jen has no idea how she’s going to be able to finish it in time so said Dept Head has time to do this, and work on the improvements he’ll no doubt suggest if he doesn’t reject her outright for being a dumbass. Jen only feels slightly better after realizing other biology students working on their honors thesis also didn’t know this, and are now frantically screaming while typing as well. But then Jen remembers this means the Dept Head will have many theses to read Sunday night, and he will hate us all. Jen is now kicking herself for wasting today by working at Fiction for Fiction and blogging.

tl;dr FUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKK

I won’t be on the internet until Monday. Consider this an open thread.

Fiction for Fiction: Trade religious texts for novels

Today the Society of Non-Theists held our annual spring event, Fiction for Fiction. The basic premise is that people can trade in various religious texts for fiction novels. We stick little bookmarks in the book explaining why we’re doing the event, which say the following:

“Religious texts may give some moral guidance, but that does not necessarily mean what they say is true. Fictional novels can contain important morals and insight into human life. You must think critically and ask questions to learn from what you’re reading. We encourage you to come to your own conclusions about what is fact and what is fiction. If you would like to investigate inconsistencies and contradictions specifically in the Bible, Koran, and Book of Mormon, skepticsannotatedbible.com is a great place to start.”

Or, to summarize:

Random student: Are you saying the Bible is fiction?!?!
Us: …Uh, yes?

This year it went just as well as in the past. We collected two Bhagavad Gitas, the Popol Vuh (from the Mayan religion), and a bunch of Bibles. The most common response was positive: People smiled, smirked, waved, laughed, came up and thanked us, took photos next to our sign, and generally were very appreciative. One parent who was on a tour with their high school student was grinning ear to ear. We also had theists come up wondering what we were doing and what our group was all about, and talking to them was great. There were no hard feelings and they agreed with what we were doing.
See? Happy non-scary atheists!

We did have the occasional scowl and a couple people who wanted to debate, which also always happens. One person came up (while I was off eating lunch, unfortunately) apparently trying to say the shroud of Turin was absolute proof of God’s existence. …Yeah, I know. Could you pick anything that has been debunked more than the shroud of Turin?

And in an ultimate event of irony, a guy that has been handing out chick tracts around campus came to pass them out to us. I squealed that I collected them (now up to 107!), so I gave him the totally wrong impression with my eagerness. Even more ironically, the tract was anti-evolution. Eventually he realized we were all atheists, and that I am majoring in evolution, so he tried to debate me. And by try, I mean he said Neanderthals were just arthritic humans and that Satan put fake fossils in the ground because he wants us all to act like monkeys (I wish I was making this up).

Him: The problem is people don’t hear enough facts about evolution. Have you talked to creationists?
Me: Tons, yes.
Him: And did they give you any facts? Not Biblical scripture, but science
Me: Well, they thought they were giving me facts, but no, they didn’t.

When I asked for an example of facts, he told me there were too many to remember (even a single one, apparently) and that I should go watch some Kent Hovind. He seemed impressed when I actually knew who he was. I was more impressed that I didn’t revert to my rage face during the conversation.

A liberal Christian who sometimes hangs out with our group then came up, and got all excited that it would possibly be a Christian debating a Christian, so she jumped in. The discussion turned to Biblical literalism and I had to run to class, so I missed most of their discussion. There was one part I did hear, however:

Christian Gal: Well, God used leprosy as a sign that you’ve done something wrong. I mean, I believe in modern medicine and everything, but I don’t think it can explain everything…

Then I facepalmed and ran off to my psychology class. Really, she’s usually pretty good, so I was just like…wut?

Anyway, overall I would say Fiction for Fiction was a success. A club member said he overheard people talking about it favorably in one of his classes. Always good to generate discussion and not piss people off! At least, not everyone.

My guest column in the Exponent: Non-theists, you are not alone on this campus

I’ve always been a bit notorious for writing letters to the editor for our campus newspaper, but this is even more exciting: The Exponent let me write a guest column on atheism at Purdue and the Society of Non-Theists for their opinions page! It’s an area usually reserved for opinion pieces for Exponent staff, and I had over twice as much space as a letter. Writing it was a lot more challenging than blogging, since it had a word limit (I can’t ramble?! Nooooo!), has to be a lot more formal (aka, intelligent), and is to a totally different audience (mainly Christians instead of a mob of atheists). It’s not revolutionary and probably won’t incite the masses to send hate mail, but it’s a message that needs to be seen on campus. Consider it my last hurrah after three years of being President.

And since I wrote it, I’ll reprint it below in its entirety.

Non-theists, you are not alone on this campus

By Jennifer McCreight
Guest Columnist
Publication Date: 04/14/2010

I grew up in Indiana, but coming to Purdue was a culture shock for me. Some people in my town were religious, but no one really cared about what others did or didn’t believe.

Less than a month after I arrived on campus, I sat in the McCutcheon laundry room reading Richard Dawkins’ “The God Delusion.” Another freshman approached me, wide-eyed, and asked if I was an atheist. When I said I was, she asked with sincere worry, “But how will you ever find a husband?”

Let’s ignore the assumption that getting a husband should be the most important goal in life. Actually, she was voicing a concern that many atheists and agnostics share. Sometimes it can feel like you’re the only person who doesn’t believe in God. I certainly felt that way when I came to Purdue.

There were over 50 Christian student organizations, a club for every other religion, religious advertisements in my mailbox, and preachers on the mall telling me I was going to hell. Political or ethical discussions and even small talk started with the assumption that I was a Christian.

That’s why I started the Society of Non-Theists in 2007: Not to convert or offend the religious, but to let other atheists and agnostics know that they weren’t alone. For our first callout, I expected maybe 15 people to come. So many students showed up that they were spilling into the hallway. People looked across the room as if to say “Where were you guys all this time?!”

While we’re a minority, we certainly do exist. About 16 percent of Americans are non-theists, and that number grows every year (1). Unfortunately, many are afraid to come out, and those fears are legitimate. Club members constantly share stories of discrimination, stereotyping and rejection from their families because of people judging their non-belief. Groups like ours provide a safe environment where non-theists can speak freely, something that is necessary to stay sane and happy.

Of course, we do more than serve as a community. Something as simple as being open about our non-theism can dispel negative stereotypes many have about us. We try to ensure the separation of church and state is upheld at Purdue and in Indiana. We hold events to promote skeptical thinking, and we help others by volunteering and raising money for charity. We encourage open dialogue about religion through group discussions and sometimes-controversial public demonstrations.

Even with all these activities, community has always been our focus. I’ve made dozens of close friends that I’ll have for a lifetime, and other members say the same. Who knows if we’d have met if we were too afraid to express our skepticism of the supernatural? Even people who don’t come to meetings frequently e-mail me, thanking me for letting them know that they have a voice on campus. Making Purdue more welcoming for non-religious students is more important than any grade I’ve received, and the club will be what I miss most when I graduate.

Future club members still have a lot of work to do keeping Purdue secular and increasing the acceptance of non-theists. We’ve had minor success cooperating with religious groups, but most still seem hesitant or unwilling. I will definitely feel disappointed if my graduation ceremony in May is full of thinly veiled prayers, religious commentary and the choir singing “Amen” like in the past.

Club flyers are torn down or defaced within hours of putting them up, and it’s rare to have an outdoor event without someone shouting something hateful. Our mere existence will always offend some, but we’ve come a long way. I’m no longer afraid or ashamed to call myself an atheist, and neither should anyone else on campus.

Just remember: Non-theists are good people, with similar morals and goals as theists. We don’t eat babies, we don’t hate religious people, we don’t wallow in depression and we don’t have drunken orgies (well, not all the time). We aren’t rebelling against our parents or God. We simply agree with Carl Sagan that “extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence.”

1. Pew Forum’s U.S. Religious Landscape Survey, May 8 to Aug. 13, 2007

Jennifer McCreight is a senior in the College of Science and the president of the Society of Non-Theists (www.purduenontheists.com). She writes at the popular atheist blog www.blaghag.com and may be reached at [[email protected]]*.

Major thanks to Tom, Mark, Bryan, and Jon for helping me revise it! And of course, thanks to the Non-Theists for a great three years. It’s hard to believe that I won’t be your President any more in a week.

*My Purdue email was printed in the paper, though I prefer that you guys email me here.

My professor's Holocaust story

Today is Holocaust Remembrance Day. On Friday our newspaper ran a piece about the upcoming Greater Lafayette Holocaust Remembrance Conference, which featured the story of one of my former professors here at Purdue. As a former student, her story was especially touching to me, but I thought all of you would enjoy it. I’ve added some more information in sparse parts, taken from here.

Anna Berkovitz had a normal childhood until 1944. Now, years later, she still has nightmares of her family being taken from their home by the Nazis.

“I was 13 years old at the time when I was taken with my family to Auschwitz, just before D-Day,” said Berkovitz, Purdue Professor Emerita of biology.

At the concentration camp, Berkovitz and her family faced grim odds of survival. Six hundred thousand Hungarian Jews entered the camp between May and September of 1944. In just three months, 500,000 were killed.

“The killing machine was so effective that names were not even taken when we arrived.”

Berkovitz’s grandparents, aunts, uncle, cousin and probably her father were among the victims of the genocide conducted by the Nazis.

Her survival, as Berkovitz says, can only be accounted for by a series of miracles. …

Anna and Elizabeth were taken to Camp-C in Birkenau. To this day Anna ponders how she survived six months of brutal treatment, harsh conditions, starvation and disease there.

In November 1944, Anna and Elizabeth were transferred to a slave labor camp near Magdeburg, Germany, where they were put to work in an underground ammunition factory. Ten days prior to the end of World War II, they were liberated by the Swedish Red Cross and taken to Sweden, where they spent three months in a sanatorium recovering from malnutrition and physical and emotional traumas. …

This year, Berkovitz will be attending the conference, but participating in these events brings personal pain.

“It’s very difficult for me … to me it’s just like it happened yesterday, so I don’t need a conference to remember.”

Still, Berkovitz recognizes and even asserts the necessity of the conference and sees participating as a duty.

“I think I owe it to the people who died to be remembered.”

Berkovitz’s story does not end in Sweden; rather, her rescue from tyranny marks the start of a new journey that defies the unthinkable trauma of the Holocaust.

In Sweden, Berkovitz maintains that she suffered from no depression or bitterness and looked forward to the future.

“I could have lived my life as a victim, but I did not,” she said. …

In April 1946, Anna and Elizabeth emigrated to the United States. They arrived in Los Angeles pennyless and not speaking English. In order to resume her schooling, Anna worked as an au-pair for several years. During this time she completed four years of high school and four years of college, graduating from U.C.L.A. in January 1952 with a B.S. degree in bacteriology and with Phi Beta Kappa and magna cum laude honors. While working as a laboratory technician, Anna met Leonard Berkovitz, who was then a post-doctoral fellow at Caltech. They were married in June 1953, and their sons Dan and Kenneth were born in 1956 and 1960, respectively. During this period Anna worked part time in various cancer research laboratories.

In 1962 Leonard accepted a position at Purdue University, and the family moved to West Lafayette, Indiana. When Kenneth was in kindergarten, Anna decided to continue her formal education. She was accepted as a graduate student in the biology department at Purdue University. She was working on her Ph.D. thesis when, in 1967, she was asked to take a temporary teaching position to fill an unexpected vacancy in the department. This temporary position turned into a lifetime career of teaching, and while Anna never obtained her Ph.D., she earned a tenured position from which she retired in 2003 as Professor Emerita in Biology.

Anna’s efforts as a teacher, her dedication to her students and to the discipline were amply recognized by her students, colleagues and the administration. She was selected by the students as one of the Top Ten Outstanding Teachers in the School of Science 14 times, she received the Murphy Award, the top recognition of teaching excellence by the University, and was given the Chiscon Award for outstanding teaching performance by the Biology department. Anna was elected to the Teaching Academy at Purdue and her name is in the Purdue Book of Great Teachers.

In her retirement Anna has more time to travel, attend theater, to be active in her Temple, and to winter in California. But, what she most enjoys is still interacting with young people, be it her own five grandchildren or students at the University. She currently participates in the University Honors Program, where she developed a new course, “The New Genetics – New Perspectives, New Dilemmas,” which she teaches in the Fall semesters. …

Marveling at her accomplishments for the time – raising a family while entering a competitive career field as woman when it was rare – Berkovitz attributes much of her drive to a belief that humanity was good. Only a small group of evil was responsible for her painful experiences.

“Unfortunately, now I see that there are still evil groups of people in the world killing or wanting to kill innocent people just because they are different from what they are,” she said. …

Though Berkovitz’s story is one of inspiration, she still bears emotional scars.

“I have recurring nightmares that I’m told that I have to pack up and leave home … that’s part of me; that’s part of my existence.”

Preventing scars such as these in others is a duty for Berkovitz; an obligation driving her to participate in programs such as the Holocaust Remembrance Conference.

“It’s very relevant to what’s going on in the world today.”

I had Dr. Berkovitz for the Honors Genetics course (mentioned in the article) and for Human Genetics, and she was one of my favorite professors here at Purdue. You could tell she was passionate about the subject, and she did a great job of explaining genetics. In class she would encourage stimulating discussions on eugenics, genetic testing, gene patenting, and abortion.

When she overheard me telling another student about the Society of Non-Theists, she asked to be put on the mailing list and has attended all of our pro-evolution events (including my talk about the Creation Museum). From our class discussions, I could tell she shared my liberal views. She even once showed us a clip of Stephen Colbert talking about DNA, and we were the only two to giggle when he talked about Jesus burying the dinosaurs.

But in addition to being a great professor and skeptic, she was a wonderful person. She would always take time to talk to me about random articles in the news she thought I would be interested in. She encouraged me to shoot for the stars when it came to genetics. When I was still considering becoming a genetic counselor, she encouraged me to get a PhD, saying someone with my skills in genetics should be doing research or running the clinic. And when I had asked her to write me a letter of recommendation for grad school, I discovered that her husband had passed away just a week before. Seeing someone I looked up to so much distraught and crying was horrible. I quickly told her I could easily find someone else to do it, but she insisted – even when overwhelmed with grief, she wanted to help her students.

I always said that this is exactly how I want to be when I was 80 – compassionate, skeptica
l, witty, and still excited
about science. That was before I knew her history as a Holocaust survivor. To think that she became such a strong woman and wonderful scientist even through that tragedy is amazing. She’s a role model to everyone, but especially to female scientists. I can only hope to be half the woman she is when I’m 80.

My professor’s Holocaust story

Today is Holocaust Remembrance Day. On Friday our newspaper ran a piece about the upcoming Greater Lafayette Holocaust Remembrance Conference, which featured the story of one of my former professors here at Purdue. As a former student, her story was especially touching to me, but I thought all of you would enjoy it. I’ve added some more information in sparse parts, taken from here.

Anna Berkovitz had a normal childhood until 1944. Now, years later, she still has nightmares of her family being taken from their home by the Nazis.

“I was 13 years old at the time when I was taken with my family to Auschwitz, just before D-Day,” said Berkovitz, Purdue Professor Emerita of biology.

At the concentration camp, Berkovitz and her family faced grim odds of survival. Six hundred thousand Hungarian Jews entered the camp between May and September of 1944. In just three months, 500,000 were killed.

“The killing machine was so effective that names were not even taken when we arrived.”

Berkovitz’s grandparents, aunts, uncle, cousin and probably her father were among the victims of the genocide conducted by the Nazis.

Her survival, as Berkovitz says, can only be accounted for by a series of miracles. …

Anna and Elizabeth were taken to Camp-C in Birkenau. To this day Anna ponders how she survived six months of brutal treatment, harsh conditions, starvation and disease there.

In November 1944, Anna and Elizabeth were transferred to a slave labor camp near Magdeburg, Germany, where they were put to work in an underground ammunition factory. Ten days prior to the end of World War II, they were liberated by the Swedish Red Cross and taken to Sweden, where they spent three months in a sanatorium recovering from malnutrition and physical and emotional traumas. …

This year, Berkovitz will be attending the conference, but participating in these events brings personal pain.

“It’s very difficult for me … to me it’s just like it happened yesterday, so I don’t need a conference to remember.”

Still, Berkovitz recognizes and even asserts the necessity of the conference and sees participating as a duty.

“I think I owe it to the people who died to be remembered.”

Berkovitz’s story does not end in Sweden; rather, her rescue from tyranny marks the start of a new journey that defies the unthinkable trauma of the Holocaust.

In Sweden, Berkovitz maintains that she suffered from no depression or bitterness and looked forward to the future.

“I could have lived my life as a victim, but I did not,” she said. …

In April 1946, Anna and Elizabeth emigrated to the United States. They arrived in Los Angeles pennyless and not speaking English. In order to resume her schooling, Anna worked as an au-pair for several years. During this time she completed four years of high school and four years of college, graduating from U.C.L.A. in January 1952 with a B.S. degree in bacteriology and with Phi Beta Kappa and magna cum laude honors. While working as a laboratory technician, Anna met Leonard Berkovitz, who was then a post-doctoral fellow at Caltech. They were married in June 1953, and their sons Dan and Kenneth were born in 1956 and 1960, respectively. During this period Anna worked part time in various cancer research laboratories.

In 1962 Leonard accepted a position at Purdue University, and the family moved to West Lafayette, Indiana. When Kenneth was in kindergarten, Anna decided to continue her formal education. She was accepted as a graduate student in the biology department at Purdue University. She was working on her Ph.D. thesis when, in 1967, she was asked to take a temporary teaching position to fill an unexpected vacancy in the department. This temporary position turned into a lifetime career of teaching, and while Anna never obtained her Ph.D., she earned a tenured position from which she retired in 2003 as Professor Emerita in Biology.

Anna’s efforts as a teacher, her dedication to her students and to the discipline were amply recognized by her students, colleagues and the administration. She was selected by the students as one of the Top Ten Outstanding Teachers in the School of Science 14 times, she received the Murphy Award, the top recognition of teaching excellence by the University, and was given the Chiscon Award for outstanding teaching performance by the Biology department. Anna was elected to the Teaching Academy at Purdue and her name is in the Purdue Book of Great Teachers.

In her retirement Anna has more time to travel, attend theater, to be active in her Temple, and to winter in California. But, what she most enjoys is still interacting with young people, be it her own five grandchildren or students at the University. She currently participates in the University Honors Program, where she developed a new course, “The New Genetics – New Perspectives, New Dilemmas,” which she teaches in the Fall semesters. …

Marveling at her accomplishments for the time – raising a family while entering a competitive career field as woman when it was rare – Berkovitz attributes much of her drive to a belief that humanity was good. Only a small group of evil was responsible for her painful experiences.

“Unfortunately, now I see that there are still evil groups of people in the world killing or wanting to kill innocent people just because they are different from what they are,” she said. …

Though Berkovitz’s story is one of inspiration, she still bears emotional scars.

“I have recurring nightmares that I’m told that I have to pack up and leave home … that’s part of me; that’s part of my existence.”

Preventing scars such as these in others is a duty for Berkovitz; an obligation driving her to participate in programs such as the Holocaust Remembrance Conference.

“It’s very relevant to what’s going on in the world today.”

I had Dr. Berkovitz for the Honors Genetics course (mentioned in the article) and for Human Genetics, and she was one of my favorite professors here at Purdue. You could tell she was passionate about the subject, and she did a great job of explaining genetics. In class she would encourage stimulating discussions on eugenics, genetic testing, gene patenting, and abortion.

When she overheard me telling another student about the Society of Non-Theists, she asked to be put on the mailing list and has attended all of our pro-evolution events (including my talk about the Creation Museum). From our class discussions, I could tell she shared my liberal views. She even once showed us a clip of Stephen Colbert talking about DNA, and we were the only two to giggle when he talked about Jesus burying the dinosaurs.

But in addition to being a great professor and skeptic, she was a wonderful person. She would always take time to talk to me about random articles in the news she thought I would be interested in. She encouraged me to shoot for the stars when it came to genetics. When I was still considering becoming a genetic counselor, she encouraged me to get a PhD, saying someone with my skills in genetics should be doing research or running the clinic. And when I had asked her to write me a letter of recommendation for grad school, I discovered that her husband had passed away just a week before. Seeing someone I looked up to so much distraught and crying was horrible. I quickly told her I could easily find someone else to do it, but she insisted – even when overwhelmed with grief, she wanted to help her students.

I always said that this is exactly how I want to be when I was 80 – compassionate, skeptical, witty, and still excited
about science. That was before I knew her history as a Holocaust survivor. To think that she became such a strong woman and wonderful scientist even through that tragedy is amazing. She’s a role model to everyone, but especially to female scientists. I can only hope to be half the woman she is when I’m 80.

Fiction for Fiction next week

For those of my readers who are at Purdue, don’t miss out the Society of Non-Theists‘ Fiction for Fiction event next week. As I’ve blogged before, it’s an event where people can trade in religious texts for great fiction novels.

When: Thursday, April 15th, 9 am to 4:30 pm
Where: Outside of CL50 at Purdue University
How: Bring a religious text! (pocket versions accepted)
Why: To encourage people to question what they read (and to stir up a little controversy, like always)

I’ll do a full write-up of the event next week. Oh, and if you want the good fiction books, come early – pretty sure Hitchhiker’s Guide will be snatched up quickly!

A Christian, a Muslim, and an atheist walk into an classroom…

Today I took part in a religious diversity panel for an agriculture class at Purdue, Communicating Across Cultures. I was on the same panel representing atheists last year, which was a giant debacle that left a bad taste in my mouth. I decided to try again this year and hope for the best.

I have to say, it went much better. This time I was actually told that I was supposed to have a presentation prepared, and I was told the accurate topic (yes, last year was bad). I had limited time for my presentation, but here’s a brief outline of what I talked about.

– Definition for atheism and agnosticism
– Demographics of atheists in US
– Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence, I can be convinced
– Secular humanism and general ideals some atheist have (search for truth, reason, evidence, concern for this life, ethics)
– Why atheism is not a religion
– Not all atheists hate religion (though some do), and we don’t hate religious people. In fact, most atheists were at one point religious.
– Atheists are not depressed, angry, hopeless people

The Muslim speaker (a recently graduated student) did an excellent job at explaining exactly what Muslims believe and some of their traditions. The Christian speaker (a pastor for Alpha Chi, the group with the zombie event), while very nice, was one giant facepalm. I really shouldn’t be allowed to be on panels or do debates, because I make a very obvious “What you’re saying is stupid and annoys me but I have to look polite” grimace, like so:It wasn’t her description of her belief that annoyed me. I disagreed with her just as much about there being proof of Jesus rising from the dead (uh, care to share that with us atheists?) and Intelligent design being proof for God’s existence (No) as I did with the Muslim talking about Mohammed being a prophet. I’ve heard the arguments before and I don’t agree with them, but the whole point of the panel was diversity, so they were totally appropriate.

What annoyed me is that she felt the need to comment on people other than Christians. Namely, atheists. To summarize her argument:

You know how when you were a little kid, and your parents forced you to go to bed at a certain time and eat your vegetables? And at the time you hated them and whined and resisted, but now looking back you thank them for being good parents? That’s God. Atheists don’t like that God’s a meanie and makes them do things they don’t like, so they rebel and go to the extreme and say he doesn’t exist. Atheists need to realize that God is all loving, and he makes rules in our best interest.

…

First off, when I was a little kid I went to bed at my curfew and ate whatever my parents told me to ate and never threw tantrums.

*ahem*

Really? Did she even listen to the talk I gave? I had just got done saying how atheists usually come to that conclusion after many many years of thought and introspection. That we weighed the evidence, and it wasn’t even enough to jiggle the scale. That we live by many of the same moral rules as religious people. That if given sufficient evidence, we would totally not hesitate in believing in God.

But no, atheists are just rebellious, selfish people who don’t want to conform to God’s rules. It’s just so fucking condescending, which is highly ironic considering it’s always the atheists who get labeled as the pompous jerks. I don’t think she was saying this to be mean, or even consciously aware of how bad it sounded – she really seemed like a legitimately nice woman. I didn’t go up and say how only atheists use reason and logic, and that theists are dumbasses. Blaaarrgghh.

One of the questions during the Q&A for me was what sort of evidence it would take to convince me that God exists. I gave my standard quip, that “If God is all knowing, he’ll know what will convince me,” which the pastor actually liked and agreed with. Then I added “Or he could make a trout materialize in front of me right now.” I paused, but no trout. Sadness. That was your chance, God!

Most of the other questions for me were pretty standard – Do you believe in a soul? (No) Where do you think you’ll go when you die? (In the ground) What do you think the purpose of life is? (There isn’t a preordained purpose, but we chose to give our lives purpose). How do you get along with religious people? (Just like someone with different political beliefs, you try to put it aside and find other things you have in common). I wish we had more time in the Q&A, because there were good questions we ran out of time for (exactly where do you get your morals, and how can morality evolve?). But since the class seemed so interested, the professor is going to email me the questions and let me answer them, and then she’s going to give my answers to the students.

I also really would have liked to address all the arguments the pastor was making. When she feels down, she asks God for strength and it makes her feel better (feeling better doesn’t mean he exists). When she looks at nature, she knows it couldn’t have come about by chance (it’s evolution, not chance). She hears the voice of God speaking to her, therefore she exists (you might want to get that hearing voices thing checked out).

But more importantly, atheists aren’t just some rebellious cranky kids who want to be able to run around having promiscuous sex and drunken parties! The ironic part is that she agreed that we have similar morals and care about the well being of others and want to live happy lives…so what exactly are we rejecting? An all loving God? Heaven? Yeah, I would just hate to have those things.

All in all, I still think the panel was a success. At the beginning of the talk, one girl said she didn’t know what the word “atheism” meant – hopefully now she does. And while I probably didn’t make any converts, I think it helped for them to see that an atheist is just a normal, happy person. They might think I’m wrong, but hopefully they won’t hate me.

Annual pro-life demonstrators out again

The anti-choice group on campus has a large event every spring called the Cemetery of the Innocents. Before I try to explain it, it might just be easier to show you:Yep, Memorial Mall gets turned into a giant cemetery for all those unborn babies evil women keep aborting. But only Christian babies, apparently.

I can’t quite explain how much this event gets me down. It’s here every spring, but you never can quite prepare yourself for when it’s going to happen. They change the date and keep it very secretive so pro-choice and feminist groups can’t counter protest. Only my freshman year was a feminist group able to figure it out, and set up a stand handing out condoms – a real way to reduce abortions. Though of course, the pro-lifers didn’t get it. “What does sex have to do with it? That’s so immature!” they whined.

Yeah, we’re dealing with intelligent people, here.

I guess I should be thankful they’re not the kind of group spouting Bible verses or waving signs of bloody fetuses. It’s just that this event reminds me of what the majority of Purdue is really like – conservative, religious, anti-choice, and willfully ignorant about social issues – and it kind of depresses me. Can’t go hide in my liberal atheist feminist bubble of friends when I have to walk past this thing five times during the day.

But of course, I’m a masochist, so I had to go poke around. If the signs that greeted you really wanted to be honest, they would say “Warning! Emotional arguments within! No substance or rational thought!”I approached the table where most of the pro-life students (mostly women, how sad), were standing. After gathering up some flyers (which I wish I could unread, dear lord the stupid burns), I decided to ask some questions:

Me: So, do you think abortion should be illegal?
Gal: Uh…well…we just want women to know there are other options to getting abortions.
Me: So you don’t want it to be illegal?
Gal: Well, we don’t have an official stance. I’d like it to be illegal, but even if we did people would still just get abortions illegally, and those would be more dangerous, so it wouldn’t really accomplish much. Instead we want to educate people that they have this option.
Me: So do you guys support contraceptives then?
Gal: Well, we don’t have an official stance, but I don’t believe in them.
Me: How do you plan on reducing abortions then?
Gal: We just want people to know there’s an option of adoption. People think it’s either have the baby and raise it, or kill it. A woman in her forties came up and said she got pregnant at 18, and her mom gave her the option of getting kicked out of home, or having an abortion, so she had it and now regrets it.
Me: Well, I’m pro-choice, and even I would say that’s bad. That’s not choice, that’s an ultimatum. No one should be forced into having one.
Gal: Uh…oh.

I then asked why they used Christian crosses to represent all abortions, and their response was basically “We’re lazy and crosses were the easiest and cheapest things to make.” Well, at least they’re honest.

Really though, I’m disappointed. Pro-life groups are getting a lot smarter. They know certain things that they believe will make them look cruel or idiotic, so they don’t officially make it a group stance, even though all of the members support it. They can’t officially be Christian or oppose contraception or want abortion illegal or want prison terms for females, because that would expose the world to the crazy. In the past the group would babble about baby holocausts and other insane crap.

They say they’re providing an option, but they also think they’re right and if you chose incorrectly you’re a horrible murderer who will be doomed to a life of guilt and suffering. That isn’t an option, it’s an ultimatum. They just hope people who come up to their table will be distracted by the cute little plastic fetuses and succumb to their emotional arguments.

I gave up asking them questions, because it was obvious I wasn’t going to get a straight answer out of anyone. Wasn’t holding my breath that someone would have an answer to overpopulation, caring for all of these unwanted children, the lack of families willing to adopt, rape, disease…

Atheism in 7 minutes

I’ve been invited to be on a religious diversity panel for a large class (200+ people) at Purdue. I’m representing non-theists, and I’ll have a maximum of 7 minutes to explain atheism & agnosticism to a room full of agriculture students. This will probably be the first time many of them have heard about atheism (at least, other than stereotypes), so I don’t want to screw up this opportunity.

If you had 7 minutes to explain atheism to someone, what would you include?

EDIT: These were the general guide lines I was given about the presentation:

– Who or what is God for you? (or what are your main objections about God)
– A summary of what you believe: Your faith
– What is your faith based on?

Yep, I get 7 minutes to explain a philosophy that took my whole life to understand. Awesome!

For realz: Reverend Jon Weyer's talk at Purdue

So for those of you who are slightly confused, my previous post was a little April Fool’s Day prank. No, I haven’t suddenly seen the light – I’m still the same skeptical atheist you all know and love. I got a kick out of how many of you I actually made worried – I even had people emailing me out of concern, haha.

While I’m still a godless heathen, I wasn’t joking when I said that I really enjoyed Jon’s talk. And before I talk about it, I have an important side note to make. Every time we’ve had an atheist speaker on campus, something has gone wrong. It was raining for Hemant, snowing for Greta, and PZ‘s flight got delayed. Jon? Arrived early on the first beautiful, sunny, 70 degree weather day of the year. I think this is a sign…

I first met John at the Secular Student Alliance conference where he talked about how Christian groups can cooperate with atheists. We’ve kept in touch, and he has the honor of having the one Christian blog I follow. And like at his blog, he does a wonderful job of talking about Christianity in a way that’s a lot more understandable to atheists, especially ones (like myself) who were never Christian. One point that Jon made in his talk is why I like him so much – that he’s all about dialogue, not debates. He’s someone who will actually listen to what you have to say, and conversations don’t devolve into stubborn debates.

The bulk of his talk was about stereotypes people may have about Christians – that they’re anti-science, hypocritical, the morality police, etc. His main point wasn’t exactly revolutionary – that yes, some Christians do these bad things, but it’s not all Christians. But I’m mostly glad that he’s willing to admit this. Far too many people that I’ve talked to seem to think that Christians are infallible, but not Jon.

Though I will have to disagree with him on one point. When talking about certain Christian extremists, he remarked that he didn’t want to start “bashing Christians.” But I disagree. Okay, maybe not quite “bashing” – but we need more moderate Christians like Jon to speak out against Christian extremists. We all complain about the loud, obnoxious groups that get disproportionate media coverage, but moderate Christians need to start actually doing something about it. Do they see it as being traitorous towards their fellow Christians?

I don’t have too many specific remarks to make about the talk, but I definitely left feeling a bit uplifted. Not because I had seen the light, but because I remembered that there are Christians out there that I can talk to and be friends with. They’re not all right wing anti-evolution homophobic teabaggers. Jon and I definitely disagree on theological issues – I don’t agree with the concept of everyone being bad/sinners, or the whole… well, God thing. But we don’t feel the need to push our beliefs on each other, so we can still enjoy having a beer together and geeking out about Lord of the Rings.

Thanks, Jon, for coming and visiting us at Purdue! I know I enjoyed it, and so did others. Sorry I didn’t get to talk to you much at dinner – I’m sure our other members kept you entertained. Or more likely, somewhat frightened.

If you were there for Jon’s talk, please feel free to add to the discussion in the comments! Mike already has a good review up, as well.

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And as an aside,

Me: *leading the group to the restaurant, decided to take an alley for a short cut*
Member: Why are we going this way?
Me: It’s quicker.
Other member: *points ahead, we’re headed straight for the back of University Church* OH GOD, IT’S A TRAP! SHE’S TAKING US TO CHURCH!
Me: *evil cackling*
Member: He got to her, noooooo!
Me: You should have known this was just a plan to convert you all!