Pity the atheist, bitter and cold,
Who simply refuses to look
Ignoring the beautiful things to be found
In the pages of one special book.
Pity the atheist’s closed little mind
Which denies any mention of God
Where faithful see castles, and streets paved with gold,
He sees nothing but hollow facade. (continues after the jump…)
Pity the atheist, lost in his world
Where he’s vainly ignoring God’s powers
He can’t look for beauty in chapter and verse
But in butterflies, maybe, and flowers
Pity the atheist, gazing at stars
Or at galaxies, light-years away
Or into a microscope, looking at stuff,
Or around, at a beautiful day
Pity the atheist’s hard little heart
Denying a God up above
Whose friends and whose family (pity them all)
Have only each other to love
Pity the atheist, trapped in the world,
Unfaithfully using his head…
Or look at the beauty that’s there to be seen,
And pity believers instead.
It’s Christmas time, which means the comment sections on the various stories on the War Against Christmas allow me to see what some people really think about atheists. I am apparently a bitter, twisted, hateful shell of a man who cannot see beauty and does not believe in love.
It’s like there’s a spy in my office.
Pity the athiest for using his head,
for something more than a hat rack
He looks for answers to and the future
and never has to look back
Atheists have it sooo bad. All they have to love is fellow creatures, and can only see the beauty, the ugly, and the reality of their planet and cosmos with only rational thought to guide them.
I have always wondered who applies these terms (atheists and/or agnostics to certain people, themselves or others? Isn’t true freedom NOT having a label? Not being a slave to a label? What if one changes one’s perspective(hopefully)tomorrow?
Would not this lead to a life of constantly re-labeling one’s self? Sounds a bit confusing and distracting from the change itself; which is more important, the new perspective or the label that feebly attempts to describe said change?
I wonder about these things.
Beautiful.
JT
Pity the atheist, who gets all aglow
At CERN and Cassini and Mars.
His head is of nonsense, he just doesn’t know
That God is more lovely than stars.
Pity the atheist, mired in grief,
With naught but foul cards in his hand.
His time on this planet is painful and brief,
And so he enjoys what he can.
All we have is the universe and each other. Tough luck, I guess.
For all the lauding of ‘beauty’, which do you think is more likely to look at a snake and scream “Eww, gross! Get it away!”: an atheist or a Christian?
From my past as a Catholic, the beauty of God’s creation seemed somewhat of an abstract concept, better enjoyed via the works of artists like Michaelangelo or (ugh!) Thomas Kinkade than one’s own experience with the physical universe.
Let’s not fuck around. Reality is so fucking awesome that we don’t need fantasy. Although I am a great fan of LOTR. Ok, I like fantasy, but I recognise it as such. Does that make sense?
Pity the atheist, bitter and cold,
While you shift, as the sermon runs long,
And try not to sigh, though the ranting gets old.
Bear up, it is Christmas! Be strong!
We’ll spend our Christmas the way we like best–
Having fun with our friends and our kin.
Pity the atheist? Pity the rest!
It’s Cuttlefish, yes! For the win!
Love the “war on the war on Christmas” bit. Cuttlefish, good rhyme! You are too clever by half. By nature I lurk, but rise up to applaud and count in.
…Todd