Greta Christina has a new book

It’s called Bending: Dirty Kinky Stories About Pain, Power, Religion, Unicorns, & More. I bought it. I read the first page of the introduction, my gnarled and liver-spotted hands trembling, and saw words that were threatening to my comfortable cis male heterosexual conventionality, and then started getting palpitations. I set it aside. Maybe when I’ve recovered and my heart gets a little stronger, I’ll try the second page.

Unless…maybe one of you can read it and tell me if it’s got stuff suitable for a geezer. Or, you know, I’m not really into unicorns, so maybe you can tell me which page has the hot cephalopod action.

Another possibility is that I could give it to my wife to read. I’m just afraid that if she really likes it, I might not survive the experience.

Or maybe I could ask her to read it aloud to me. That ought to be safe. Like a children’s book, right? Bedtime stories?

Goddamn cancer

This past week, I got to meet Jay Lake, a most excellent SF author and current cancer survivor who did not give me optimistic news about his prognosis.

Then this morning I get up to the news that my all-time favorite author, Iain Banks, has issued A Personal Statement in which he announces that he has terminal bladder cancer, is not expected to live out the year, and has written his last book, ever. I have never met Banks, although I’d love to, and now it looks like I never will.

Goddamn motherfucking cancer.

There’s not much we can do, but at least take a look at Jay Lake’s and Iain Banks’ books on Amazon. Good stuff all around.

The cold dead hand of Christopher Hitchens will reach beyond the grave and get you

Hitchens’ own publisher, Verso, apparently commissioned a hatchet job on him, hiring a Marxist-Leninist ideologue to write (using that word loosely) a tell-all called Unhitched to expose Hitch as a plagiarist and heretic and fame-grubbing careerist.

Now I utterly detested Hitchens’ politics; I think he saw the world in binary terms and backed the wrong side in the battle against ignorance because he couldn’t see any other position than GW Bush’s and the fanatical Islamist horde’s. But he was passionate and sincere (not that that excuses anything) in his ideals, and absolutely heroic in his writing and speaking ability. There is room to criticize Hitchens on the facts, and I think a book that looked at the man critically and honestly would both provide an interesting appraisal and honor his talents.

According to the review, this book did neither. The author chose to attack Hitchens by denying his undeniable strengths, and the publisher hired someone who “nature did not intend” to write. The professional calumnist who wants to attack Hitchens post mortem faces a formidable obstacle: the man was a great writer, and every slander is going to look paltry and unimaginative next to Hitchens’ most casual jibe.

Mission accomplished

The Happy Atheist

I am relieved to announce that this book thingie has been edited and shipped back to the publisher. Next step is some arcane process called “typesetting”.

The best thing about it: I really, really love editors. They have a skill that they apply well, and they make everything twinkle sninily that they touch. I wish I could take this one and make her copy edit all my blog posts from now on (even though she’d probably correct “sninily” and tell me I have to explain these weird terms.)

The worst thing: this book has been moldering at the publishers for so long that I really felt this terrible urge to rewrite the whole thing from the ground up…an act both temporally impossible and contradictory, because then it would take even longer to get out.

Also, I’ve got other deadlines stacked up awaiting my service right now.

Hey, there’s a virtual book floating on the verge of existence here

cover

I have good news and bad news.

The excellent news: I have received the copy-edited manuscript of my book-to-be, The Happy Atheist, from Pantheon. After many delays, it’s finally going to happen for sure! Go pre-order your copy now! Buy buy buy buy buy!

The heart-attack-inducing but not at all unexpected news: I’m supposed to review this manuscript and make any corrections and changes (and I’m on a firm deadline, so have no fear, this will not cause any further delays), and when I opened it up, it was a wall of purple editor’s marks — just page after page of nits picked and wording/grammatical errors hacked into submission. Editors are truly scary people, but I know they have an essential role in the ecosystem — I think they’re kind of like a top predator, poised to cull the herd and feast on the flesh of the weak.

Anyway, I can tell what I’ll be doing this week. Licking wounds. But it’s good for me!

Scientology is creeping me out

I’ve been reading Going Clear: Scientology, Hollywood, and the Prison of Belief by Lawrence Wright, which I have to say is one of the most frustrating books I’ve ever worked through. Not because it is a bad book, but because the author is doing his job: Wright maintains a detached, non-judgmental, even sympathetic tone while describing appalling madness. I’m about two-thirds of the way through the book, and I’m still waiting for Wright to snap and tell us what he really thinks about the evil L. Ron Hubbard has wrought — a step I would have reached by about page two.

It’s painful. Hubbard was so clearly delusional and so malevolently manipulative that you find it hard to believe people actually do fall for this nonsense, and fall for it hard. People put up with shocking abuse for years, decades even, all the while apologizing for their behavior, making excuses for the church, and even voluntarily submitting to the most degrading punishments. For instance, Scientology maintains something called the Rehabilitation Project Force (RPF), which is little more than confinement and humiliation. People who question the dogma or annoy David Miscavage (the head of the religion now that Hubbard is dead) or sometimes just on a whim are tossed into basements or kept in trailers with no furnishings, no means of communication, and fed on slops, with frequent punishment drills. It’s like a horrible caricature of a banana republican prison — it is a prison.

But there aren’t locks on the doors. The inmates stay there, punishing themselves, begging for more, all in the hopes of achieving redemption in the eyes of the psychotics running the show. The whole book is a lesson on how human psychology can be warped and used by religion, leading people to submit to commands that I can’t imagine ever respecting…but they are led step by step into an earthly hell, all the while thinking it’s paradise.

One thing that struck me is that Scientology is a pathological extreme, but in substance it’s no different than other religions. And this was confirmed in a discussion of the numerous court cases that challenged Scientology. Scientology had its tax exemption as a religion stripped from it for a long while, and fought hard to get it back (and they eventually did, in a craven capitulation by the IRS). One of their allies in these trials was a former Franciscan friar and product of the Harvard Divinity School, Frank Flinn, who happily defined religion for the courts and pointed out that Scientology was just like Catholicism.

Flinn defined religion as a system of beliefs of a spiritual nature. There must be norms for behavior — positive commands, and negative prohibitions or taboos — as well as rites and ceremonies, such as initiations, prayers, and services for weddings and funerals. By these means, the believers are united into an identifiable community that seeks to live in harmony with what they perceive as the ultimate meaning of life. Flinn argued that Scientology amply fulfilled these requirements, even if it different in expression of them from traditional denominations.

Like Catholicism, Flinn explained, Scientology is a hierarchical religion. He compared L. Ron Hubbard to the founders of Catholic religious orders, including his own, started by Saint Francis of Assisi, whose followers adopted a vow of poverty. Financial disparities within a church are not unusual. Within the hierarchy of Catholicism, for instance, bishops often enjoy a mansion, limousines, servants, and housekeepers; the papacy itself maintains thousands of people on its staff, including the Swiss Guards who protect the pope, and an entire order of nuns dedicated to being housekeepers for the papal apartments.

The Catholic Church also maintains houses of rehabilitation (like the RPF) for errant priests hoping to reform themselves. Flinn saw the RPF as being entirely voluntary and even tame compared to what he experienced as a friar in the Franciscan Order. He willingly submitted to the religious practice of flagellation on Fridays, whipping his legs and back in emulation of the suffering of Jesus before his crucifixion.

…

One of Flinn’s most interesting and contested points had to do with hagiography, by which he meant attributing extraordinary powers — such as clairvoyance, visions of God or angels, or the ability to perform miracles — to the charismatic founders of a religion. He pointed to the virgin birth of Jesus, the ability of Buddha to “transmigrate” is soul into the heavens, or Moses bringing manna to the people of Israel. Such legends are useful in that the bolster the faith of a community, Flinn said. The glaring discrepancies in Hubbard’s biography should be seen in the light of the fact that any religion tends to make its founder into something more than human.

I found myself agreeing entirely with Flinn: Scientology is a religion, different in no substantial way from Catholicism, and I think it should be classified as such. No problem.

What irritates me, though, is that anyone can read that and argue that any religion deserves a tax exemption, or should be regarded as anything more than a self-aggrandizing perpetual money-making machine for the hierarchy. As I said, the IRS did eventually give in in an out-of-court settlement and let the Church of Scientology have everything they wanted…but the message they should have taken away is that no church deserves special treatment. Tax ’em all. Remind the world that all of their mythologies are lies, and that all are just as corrupt and just as fraudulent as Scientology.

Kylie Sturgess has a documentary on the Australian Scientology RPF. Another thing brought up is how they keep children in ignorance, a point also brought up in Wright’s book with an example of one young woman.

Lauren was told that Scientologists shouldn’t look at negative stories about the religion. She was supposed to be saving the planet, so why was she wasting her time reading lies? Because of her isolation, and the censorship imposed on her education, when Lauren finally graduated from high school at the age of twenty, she had never heard anyone speak ill of Scientology, nor did she question the ban on research about her religion. She thought, “I guess I’m not supposed to do these things. I will stay away.” Like her father [Paul Haggis], she learned it was easier not to look.