I ran into a cousin of mine while picking up photos at Wal-Mart last night. This particular cousin, without fail, always tells me that the resemblance between my father and me is stunning. He mentions this largely because my father has been dead for 17 years, half of my life.
As we talked about how our respective families were doing, how our jobs were, et cetera, he stopped to say that my father was likely looking down at me from above, proud of all that I’ve done.
I smiled, nodded politely, and muttered, “Yep.” What I really wanted to say was, “Well, I don’t think there’s an afterlife, so he’s probably just dead. And the only person that I really need to be proud of me is myself.”
Don’t get me wrong. Folks that know me know I’m an attention whore so it seems like I’m constantly fishing for approval, but as I explained to Brandy last night, that’s really a case of running around saying “Look how awesome I am!” and not “Do you think I’m awesome?”
Anyway, there’s usually little sense in making somebody feel bad for trying to be nice, so I let those things slide. But for the record, I feel the same way about people that say “Bless you” when I sneeze. I don’t really require a blessing every time I clear dust from my nasal passage. Nobody blesses me when I fart or belch.
Speaking of atheism, I finished reading Hitchens’ “God is not Great” last night. My one line review: not nearly as intolerable as Dawkins’ “The God Delusion”. I’ve now moved onto lighter reading - the rise and fall of Commodore computing.
Comments
I’ve always just said “Gesundheit” (German for “Health!” as I understand it).
And I may have to nab that Commodore book one of these days…
The problem as I see it with being a proud atheist is that there’s no real good polite way to tell someone they’re wrong for believing in a faith-based religion. If there were a way to smack them upside the head with a clue-by-four without making them feel upset about it, then there wouldn’t be any hesitation.
I’ve always preferred either starting up a conversation about faith with the target (I count it as a win if I can get them to say “God works in mysterious ways” within 4 sentences), and/or professing my love of the Discordian Church and wouldn’t it be a good idea to go out and partake of a Hot Dog on friday (sans bun).
To edit my previous message:
There’s no polite way for anybody of any faith to tell anyone else of any other faith that they are wrong. See also The Crusades/Israel/Iraq/Earth.
I wouldn’t get TOO hard on people who say “Bless you”, though–you get people like me, the practicing zen agnostic (I dunno what’s out there, let’s meditate on it!) who say Bless You since it’s the polite thing to say in English when someone sneezes (and I sound like a moron when I try to pronounce gesundheit.).
Sort of semi-responding to both your post and Fn’s comment, I’ve always thought that if there is a God that he must work incredibly subtly–on the order of influencing chaotic effects at quantum scales. After all, every other kind of divine influence has been ruled out by evidence.
For me, sometimes, the funniest part is the gyrations that people go through when they make technically falsifiable claims about being psychic or talking to spirits or whatever rot but they absolutely don’t want to even contemplate a double-blind trial of the same.
Like I said, the “Bless you” bugs me, but I don’t say anything about it. If somebody nearby sneezes, I just let it go without comment. I don’t know whether or not those folks think I’m rude for not acknowledging their germ explosion - they probably do. When my son sneezes, it’s a massive occurrence that wracks his entire body. I do acknowledge that with a “Holy crap, kid!”, but that’s more because I’m impressed with the effort he puts into it.
Excuse me while I derail this a bit…
What is particularly interesting in my life is that I could really benefit from an omnipresent, omnipotent creator. There are very few people who haven’t said that Gareth’s birth and disability are all part of God’s plan, or that God specifically gave Gareth to us because he knew we would be good parents for Gareth, or that the good things that happen to Gareth are the result of God’s love.
If that’s the case, God should man up and cure the kid. Gareth has been through enough now.
But if I could sit back and find solace in the idea that my life is all part of some grander scheme, I could probably just relax a bit. As it is, I have only chance, physiology, and medical science to contemplate as the reasons behind Gareth’s disability and its impact on our lives.
Having said that, Gareth has had a positive impact on a number of people and has helped pave the way for earlier recognition of the capabilities of kids with cerebral palsy. But that isn’t because of some grand plan by the creator - it’s because of human compassion and ingenuity. And also part profit motive (adaptive equipment is expensive).
Okay, back on track now…
I’m not out to rain on anybody’s God parade. If somebody brings the topic up with me, I’m more than happy to state all the reasons why I think the validity of today’s decidedly Western deity is no more valid than those of the Greeks, Romans, Native Americans, Hindus, Muslims, et cetera. But, for the most part, I nod my head and say, “Yep.”
Oh, and blog about it.
That’s the kind of trite crap that really gets to me–the God brigade placing all the good that comes out of a situation on God alone, and leaving none of the blame for the bad on his infinitely ample shoulders.
It leaves no room for us mere humans to be the heroes of the story–which to me is just missing the entire point of the human condition, God or no God. To paraphrase Harry Chapin: “We literally can’t know if there’s a prior life or an afterlife, so the only thing that matters is what you make of your time here because it’s all you have.”
I’ve finished reading that Commodore book. If you’d like to borrow it, let me know.
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