One of the things that bugs me most about some of my fellow environmentalists, aside from the patchouli, is the near-religious adherence — even among those enviros who eschew religion — to the notion that natural ecological systems have an innate and emergent self-repairing property. It’s a dangerous idea that breeds complacency, and it’s really widespread.
Yesterday, I made the long drive from Morris to Duluth, made longer because I took a back-country route through the north country forest. I was a few days too late for the peak of the fall foliage; there was an occasional burst of brilliant yellow-gold, but for the most part the yellows had faded to parchment and the reds had clotted to a dull brown. Many of the birch trees were naked, pale, and skeletal, clawing bleakly at the cloudy sky. I’d missed the splendor and driven straight into Ray Bradbury time, where the atmosphere was all about the fading of the light and the dread of the dark.
And I was thinking all the way…man, but I love Halloween. It’s my favorite time of the year, and it’s also a great atheist holiday.
A letter from Einstein is going up for auction (got $3 million), and it’s revealing about his actual attitude towards religion.
The word God is for me nothing more than the expression and product of human weaknesses, the Bible a collection of honorable, but still primitive legends which are nevertheless pretty childish. No interpretation no matter how subtle can (for me) change this. These subtilised interpretations are highly manifold according to their nature and have almost nothing to do with the original text.
Just remember that next time someone tries to cite Einstein as a believer.
Early last month I threatened all of you that I might be moving some of my old posts from Creek Running North / Coyote Crossing to this joint, assuming they’re appropriate for the venue. I see it’s been a month since I did so. Somewhat coincidentally, I’ve been a little mopey for the last couple weeks over the sixmonthiversary of having to say goodbye to my friend Thistle, and a post I wrote six months ago last week seemed very much appropriate for Pharyngulizing. So here is is, slightly edited, with special bonus photo.
This is an excellent bit of work: Adam Lee gives the big-picture perspective on the shifts within the atheist movement.
The animating idea behind Atheism+ is that atheism isn’t a stopping point, but a beginning. We’re atheists not because we want to gather and engage in collective back-slapping, not because we want to chortle at the foolishness of benighted believers, but because we care about creating a world that’s more just, more peaceful, more enlightened, and we see organized religion as standing in the way of this goal. We consider politically engaged atheism an effective way to demolish this obstacle, to refute the beliefs that have so often throughout human history been used to excuse cruelty, inequality, ignorance, oppression and violence. (Full disclaimer: I identify as a member of A+ and as a proponent of social justice.)
What’s more, we refuse to believe that skepticism and critical thinking can be usefully applied only to claims about the supernatural. We believe that it’s equally valuable to apply them to real-world power structures that perpetuate inequality and injustice. Thus, the goals of Atheism Plus: We are atheists and skeptics, plus we defend women’s rights and reproductive choice, plus we fight against sexism and racism, plus we oppose homophobia and transphobia, plus we call for equality of opportunity and economic fairness, and so on.
I agree so completely (although I don’t yet identify as a member, but do concur on social justice). We cannot use the slogan “good without god” unless we actively promote good social behaviors.
I can sort of understand — I had two boys who were engaged to scouting to various degrees. There’s the camaraderie, the camping, the teamwork, the fun activities, all good and appealing. But then it sinks in that they’re promoting right-wing ideology. No gays allowed. No atheists allowed. The best people are heterosexual church-goers.
Ryan Andresen was a kid who went through the whole routine with enthusiasm, and even got to the point where he’d completed his Eagle Scout project and was going to be given the highest award in the organization. And then they turned him down. Two reasons have been given.
One is that he was openly gay. This is a bleeding wound in scouting — Ryan is just the latest casualty.
The Boy Scouts of America have come under fire for its ban on gay members and leaders, which it reaffirmed in July, leading dozens of Eagle Scouts to return their medals. Last month, tech giant Intel, one of the Scout’s biggest donors, announced that it would no longer donate to the organization, or any organization that didn’t adhere to its anti-discrimination policy. Additionally, both President Obama and Mitt Romney voiced opposition to the Scouts’ gay ban.
There’s no denying that being gay puts you on the outs with the Boy Scouts. But there’s another reason: it turns out that everyone knew long in advance about his sexual orientation, but the final straw was that he’s a goddamned atheist.
“This scout proactively notified his unit leadership and Eagle Scout counselor that he does not agree to scouting’s principle of ‘Duty to God’ and does not meet scouting’s membership standard on sexual orientation,” Deron Smith, a spokesman for the organization said in a statement. “Agreeing to do one’s ‘Duty to God’ is a part of the scout Oath and Law and a requirement of achieving the Eagle Scout rank.
In other words, this was a fellow with enough integrity that he refused to check off one box on his form: he had done all the work, he’d probably put up with a lot of crap on the way (his Eagle Scout project was on bullying), and then, at the last minute, confronted with the choice to lie and conform, or to be honest to himself and others, he chose honesty.
I think he’s a better man for being true.
That ought to be the death knell for the Boy Scouts, when turning down their highest award becomes a point of honor.
[Sunday Bible study class, 1973; I’m 12]
Me: So, how can we PROVE that God exists?
Teacher: We can’t, we just have to believe.
Rats. Paul Broun (Ridiculous, Ga) sees right through us.
All that stuff I was taught about evolution and embryology and the Big Bang Theory, all that is lies straight from the pit of Hell. And it’s lies to try to keep me and all the folks who were taught that from understanding that they need a savior.
So…this guy gets elected down there in Georgia?
This could be a much longer response, going over my background and
struggles with religion, how good it felt to believe that there was
always someone invisible watching over me, that there was someone who
saw all injustice and ensured that it all came out right in the end,
but frankly, I don’t think there’s anything there that you haven’t
already read or experienced yourself.
