And Then I Was Like…

“Fuck it, hair grows back.” So I cut off 7 inches.
And I really, very, truly love it.

“I’m going to timezone terrorize* my bff because it’s his first presidential election.”
And I was glad we understood each other so well.

*Timezone terrorist: an asshole (me) who sends 7AM EST text messages to people (my friends & family) on the west coast.

“Thank God all the sensible voters that Obama won, but this nation is, as it has always been, a secular one.”
So I followed the Freedom From Religion Foundation’s suggestion and wrote a letter to The Big O asking him to refrain from taking a nonsecular Oath of Office at his inauguration next January. And frankly, if you’re also fatigued by the politicization of religion, then you should, too.

Theism, Atheism, and This Damned Country

I think by now everyone knows – if not accepts (I suspect that the Catholic Church does not keep finding me where ever I move by coincidence) – that I am an atheist. As a child, I was not intellectual enough to understand the implications of religion, much less to choose actively to subscribe to one. Once those capabilities developed, I rejected all religious doctrine outright. I was a child of Christian parents, never a Christian; this is a very important distinction and the way we should regard all children of religious parents.

As a society, we’ve decided that religion is beyond reproach.
I protest!

My dismissal of religion is not something I feel I need to defend. Writers and scientists more eloquent than me have made the case for atheism so passionately and so persuasively that anything I could contribute would be writing just to say something rather than writing because I have something to say.

But I do have something to say: something about my contempt for religion and its ramifications on this country. The state of the union is this: America is quickly becoming a nation of religious extremists no different from the religious extremists who have strongholds in Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Israel, Afghanistan, et cetera. As Americans, we jingoistically tout ourselves as being “the land of the free,” and deprecate the oppressive governments in Islamic (and Jewish) countries.

But are we really all that different, all that free? No, we’re not, and it’s largely because the electorate and elected alike vote with their bibles and not their brains. Who in this country is free, exactly? It’s certainly not the women who have to fight for a constitutionally protected right to make decisions about their bodies; who are raped and abused in disproportionate numbers; who are often treated more like property than people and are murdered by their families for being “impure.” It’s definitely not the LGBTQ population who also has to fight for their constitutionally decreed equality and fight blatant discrimination at every level. It’s absolutely not the minorities who make up a drastic percentage of the US prison population. After all, racism is a legal mandate in the great state of Arizona, and a social norm just about everywhere else. Hell will have to exist and subsequently freeze over before atheists get a fair shake at anything. There are only two openly atheist elected congressmen, and, collectively, atheists are the least trusted group in America. Think about this: only rapists come close to matching atheists in perceived untrustworthiness. Allow me to place this in a personal context: religious people believe that I, an atheist, am less trustworthy than the man, a Catholic no less, who raped me. There are people who honestly believe that I will go to hell and he will go to heaven because he is “saved” and I am a “heathen.” I think we’ve just whittled “the free” down to white, heterosexual, upper-middle class, Judeo-Christian men.

And whence comes all these disparities? From religion. Sexism, misogyny, racism, homophobia, and religious discrimination are condoned in the Bible and other sacred texts alike, and people use these religious edicts as a cloak for oppression and bigotry. It’s one thing to hold beliefs, it’s an egregious thing to attempt to foist those beliefs on others, especially in an ostensibly secular state. I agree completely that Islamic nations are unjust, paternalistic, and dangerous societies, but I don’t agree that we are any different.

As an aside, a personal plea to my family and friends: stop denying my capability. When you said, “God must have been helping you” after I persevered through a very traumatic event during a very trying final semester, it angered me. It still angers me. Like hell. My success belongs to me; my fortitude carried me through disaster because I am a strong and capable woman, nothing more and certainly nothing less. Likewise, don’t tell me, “If [I] just believed in God, then [I] could believe everything is going to be ok.” How does that work out? Do the faithful never experience pain or loss or grief, and does everything always work out ok for them? More importantly, are you implying that being raped is punishment for being faithless?

Is that what you really believe?

That Makes Us the Lucky Ones

Here’s a factoid about me that most people don’t know: The first college course I took was an introductory astronomy course. I was concurrently enrolled in high school at the time, and I chose it because it sounded more interesting than chemistry or physics. I was right, it was excellent, probably my favorite class ever, and for my first semester of college, I declared astrophysics.

Obviously, I didn’t stick with that major, but my curiosity about the universe, even today, is particularly insatiable.

I’m not sure if anyone realizes how nerdy B. and I are, but the truth is, we’re up there. How did we spend our Friday night? We went to an astronomy lecture at Penn sponsored by the Philadelphia Science Festival. Professor Gary Bernstein (who just happened to get his PhD from Berkeley) gave a stellar lecture about the solar system. After his talk, I chatted with him about the possibility of a multiverse, and B. asked him about a good planetarium around Philly. Tomorrow we’re going to the Fels Planetarium at The Franklin Institute.

This really is what Saturn looks like through a telescope.

After the lecture, we got to see Mars, Saturn, and the Moon through high-powered telescopes! We could actually see the rings of Saturn, as if it was a picture. It was magnificent and breathtaking. Mouth completely agape, I wanted never to stop looking through that eyepiece. I thought about how infinitesimal we are in this universe, and how I find the universe so completely comforting.

I don’t believe in gods or an afterlife any more than I believe that there’s a China teapot floating around between Mars and Earth. However, I’ve always wished that after death, we could be able to float around the universe, without the limitations of a corporeal existence. I want to see the stars, the planets, the moons, and all the matter up close. I want to explore it, until I know every secret of the universe. Obviously, this wish will never come true, but still I find myself so fulfilled simply by having the chance to exist in this magnificent natural world, to see just a glimpse.

“We are going to die, and that makes us the lucky ones. Most people are never going to die because they are never going to be born. The potential people who could have been here in my place but who will in fact never see the light of day outnumber the sand grains of Sahara. Certainly those unborn ghosts include greater poets than Keats, scientists greater than Newton. We know this because the set of possible people allowed by our DNA so massively outnumbers the set of actual people. In the teeth of these stupefying odds it is you and I, in our ordinariness, that are here. We privileged few, who won the lottery of birth against all odds, how dare we whine at our inevitable return to that prior state from which the vast majority have never stirred?”

Richard Dawkins