Ho Ho Fucking Ho—It Wouldn’t Be Christmas without It.

Yes, it’s that time again and, as I so often do, I would like to share with you one of my favourite Christmas songs … join in if you know it …

Read the free sample of The Realm of the Hungry Ghosts here.

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© 2012 Gary William Murning

Raising a Glass to The Hitch.

Today is the first anniversary of the death of the irreplaceable Christopher Hitchens. To mark this, I will later today be raising a glass to his memory and numerous accomplishments—but in the meantime I thought some of you might like to revisit the piece I wrote upon hearing of his death last year.

A Wager: Won or Lost?

 

 

Read the free sample of The Realm of the Hungry Ghosts here.

Buy your copy of The Realm of the Hungry Ghosts now!

© 2012 Gary William Murning

Virgin Birth My Arse—Legend Press Guest Blog.

Today I am guesting on the Legend Press website.

Okay, so it’s probably already fairly obvious from the title of this piece that I’m not exactly what you would call a staunch believer. I am, in fact, a dyed in the wool atheist cum anti-theist. Religion plays absolutely no part in my life and while I will always defend the right of individuals to believe whatever they wish (as long as it doesn’t interfere with me or others who want nothing to do with it), I can (and often do) happily envisage a world without it.

Doesn’t sound very festive, I know, but click through and have a read. I think you’ll be surprised!

Read the free sample of The Realm of the Hungry Ghosts here.

Buy your copy of The Realm of the Hungry Ghosts now!

© 2012 Gary William Murning

Bollocking Christmas Bollocks—I Love It. (Pour Me Another, Mother.)

Yes, I know. Atheist. Secularist. Humanist. Rationalist. Sceptic. Cynic. Tosser (who said that?) So how—I mean, just how—could I even contemplate participating in the whole Christmas charade in any way whatsoever? Well, over the next week or two you will be getting a little more of an insight into that—from the horse’s heretical mouth, so to speak—but in the meantime, a video that many of you will already be familiar with but which sums up my position quite perfectly.

The rather strange-looking, but quite endearing, Tim Minchin singing White Wine in the Sun.

Read the free sample of The Realm of the Hungry Ghosts here.

Buy your copy of The Realm of the Hungry Ghosts now!

© 2012 Gary William Murning

A (Possibly Sporadic) Return to Blogging.

The silence on this blog, I like to kid myself, has been deafening—but, on the whole, it’s more probably true that it has gone relatively unnoticed.

Nevertheless, I have been quieter than usual, and while thinking about this today I drew a few conclusions, finally deciding that maybe—just maybe—it was time for me to make a more concerted effort and return to “blogging as it used to be”.

So what prompted these “conclusions”? I’ve noticed over recent months that on Twitter (which I use extensively) I have become less inclined to say what I really think. There are a number of reasons for this. Firstly, with over three thousand followers you can be fairly certain that anything you say is going to reach a few people who don’t agree and who are prepared to let you know. This can be time-consuming and, ultimately, pretty pointless. Yes, I’m fortunate to have had many productive discussions/debates using this medium, but recently they have been fewer and farther between (possibly because others are beginning to share my own concerns?) Secondly, the danger of misunderstanding, when dealing with, in some cases, serious topics, is painfully difficult to avoid while only using 140 characters. Thirdly, while my Twitter stream is very much “mine”, it feels increasingly as if I’m in the middle of a crowded public place shouting rather rudely into the surrounding tumult. A sense of “ownership” of the space around one grants freedoms that I otherwise feel I can’t, or shouldn’t, claim. And finally, the climate is changing—dangerously, to my mind. I am, I like to think, a fairly intelligent guy who is always careful about what he posts. I know what to say and what not to say. But given reactions (in many respects understandable) by the police and judiciary over recent weeks and months to certain, admittedly reprehensible tweets by handful of people, I find myself all too often erring unreasonably on the side of caution—something that concerns me deeply.

And so I am going to at least try to revive my blogging appetite and address certain issues that concern me here. Comments on these posts will, on the whole, remain closed and only under certain circumstances will I open them up for debate (not because I’m anti-debate, as someone will no doubt insist, but rather because I have novels to write). I’ll aim for brevity—keeping the posts as on topic as possible, effectively treating them as an extended tweets. My approach will be very much the approach I used quite extensively at the height of my blogging phase of a few years ago: examining the all too often “accepted” version from as many angles as possible, occasionally playing the contrarian simply because no one else is. I won’t promise to blog every day, but I will promise to try to post honestly when I feel it’s required.

So what can you expect over recent months? Well, I think it’s fairly safe to say that I will definitely be writing about—as I have done in the past—the continuing assault on our right to cause offence. This is something that has an impact on so many aspects of the lives we lead, and I feel it can’t be discussed too much.

As well as this, I think it highly likely that I will be returning quite regularly to the subject of disability identity—how the media and, quite often, charities and activists, are shaping the way people with disabilities are perceived, often with laudable motives but with an almost complete disregard for the implied messages they are sending.

For light relief, you can also expect a little literary commentary, the occasional assault on religion, a liberal amount of disrespectful mooning at passing “psychics”, a general hatred of political entrenchment and binary arguments and … what have I forgotten? Oh, yes, the occasional update on my writing.

So, yes, sporadic it may be. Few and far between could well still be the order of the day. But on those occasions when I do post something, it should hopefully be worth reading—even if you don’t necessarily agree with it (which is perfectly acceptable).

If you consider this a good thing, please make encouraging noises below.

Read the free sample of The Realm of the Hungry Ghosts here.

Buy your copy of The Realm of the Hungry Ghosts now!

© 2012 Gary William Murning

Hitchens on a Sunday. Amen.

After yesterday’s brief post featuring the video of Anderson Cooper‘s interview with the ever erudite and refreshingly honest Christopher Hitchens, I’ve noticed a couple of things.

1. My page hits have increased substantially.
2. I can’t help wondering how I myself, as an atheist and in many respects, to use Hitch’s preferred noun, anti-theist, will deal with what I’m sure we can safely assume is for each and every one of us an inevitability.

Last year – in fact it’s coming up to the anniversary – I had what ultimately turned out to be a not too serious sudden-onset medical problem that resulted in my being hospitalised at five o’clock in the morning. As many of my regular readers know, I have Type II (more or less) spinal muscular atrophy. In my case it’s categorised as a “severe” physical disability. Nonetheless, I’ve been fortunate enough to enjoy remarkably good health for many years. I’m disabled, not ill. Consequently, finding myself vomiting blood at five in the morning was something of a shock to the system.

Once at the hospital, however, it seemed that there wasn’t all that much to be concerned about. It looked like a fairly minor stomach bleed – most likely caused by the pinprick ulcers they eventually found. However, just as I was getting close to being discharged my Hb levels plummeted. We later found out that this was likely to have been a false reading, but at the time we didn’t know this – and given that they were having considerable problems getting a new, viable line into me… I was scared.

Of course, this was nothing like Hitch’s situation. But it’s as close as I’ve come recently. Ever, for that matter.

I was ill. Not as ill as any of us thought at that time – but I was weak, I hadn’t been eating and I think I was probably in shock. At one point, I can’t recall when, exactly, I seemed to click onto autopilot. I stopped thinking the way I normally would and simply focused on what was happening at that particular time. Things like writing novels, getting published, they became irrelevant. I sensed on that primitive level that death was a possibility – that it’s always a possibility.

So did I pray? Hitchens has talked about this extensively since his diagnosis. The religious among us – some, at least – trot out the tried and tested (and failed) “there are no atheists in foxholes“, sometimes just a little too smugly, and even dyed in the wool atheists like me find ourselves wondering what we’d do, even as we acknowledge that it’s something we haven’t as yet even contemplated resorting to in any real or meaningful way.

What many seem to completely miss when they refer to their foxholes is that for some of us, religion, the concept of gods, isn’t something from which we’ve escaped. It’s never really been there. Granted, we may have during our schooling gone through the predicated motions, but as adults it’s never been a question of rejecting god – he, she or it was never there to begin with. Certainly not in the way that people of faith experience. (I stress: for some of us.) And, so, the impulse to return to something in which we once found comfort just isn’t there.

And this is how it was for me. I’ve never depended upon gods. Even as a child, I never seriously asked expecting to receive. If I wanted love, if I wanted support – it was there, always, in the form of my parents. I didn’t have to ask.

So, no, I didn’t pray. I acquiesced to the knowledge of those around me – the doctors and nurses (although I wasn’t all that passive; I did constantly question) – and found the emotional support I needed in my parents. Had the prognosis been graver, would this have been the case? I’m pretty sure it would have been.

But just in case, let me quote Hitch on this:

As a terrified, half-aware imbecile, I might even scream for a priest at the close of business, though I hereby state while I am still lucid that the entity thus humiliating itself would not in fact be ‘me.’

Two sample chapters of If I Never can be read here.

To buy your copy of If I Never, please click here.

Also, UK Kindle users can now buy If I Never here. (US Kindle users here.)

© 2010 Gary William Murning

Christopher Hitchens Interviewed by Anderson Cooper.

Yet another intelligent, thought-provoking interview with Christopher Hitchens.

Two sample chapters of If I Never can be read here.

To buy your copy of If I Never, please click here.

Also, UK Kindle users can now buy If I Never here. (US Kindle users here.)

The Eve of a Historic, Unwelcome Visit.

Image via Wikipedia

Tomorrow will see the start of Pope Benedict XVI‘s “state visit” to the UK and, after quite a significant break from blogging about my thoughts on religion, atheism et al I find myself returning to this old, familiar battleground with mixed feelings. I would now rather not have to blog on the subject, but feel I must.

Whatever my personal views – solidly atheistic and, under certain circumstances, anti-theistic – this visit goes beyond that. Whether one believes in God or not is not the issue; my objection to this visit, like those of many, many others, is grounded in the crimes that this odious little man has actively worked to conceal, and the moral crimes that are perpetrated daily in the name of Catholic doctrine.

I’m not, however, going to list the various accusations today. We are all more than familiar with them, I’m sure. Instead, I’m going to start by referencing this recent – rather excellent piece – by Johan Hari in The Independent:

I want to appeal to Britain’s Roman Catholics now, in the final days before Joseph Ratzinger’s state visit begins. I know that you are overwhelmingly decent people. You are opposed to covering up the rape of children. You are opposed to telling Africans that condoms “increase the problem” of HIV/Aids. You are opposed to labelling gay people “evil”. The vast majority of you, if you witnessed any of these acts, would be disgusted, and speak out. Yet over the next fortnight, many of you will nonetheless turn out to cheer for a Pope who has unrepentantly done all these things.

I believe you are much better people than this man. It is my conviction that if you impartially review the evidence of the suffering he has inflicted on your fellow Catholics, you will stand in solidarity with them – and join the protesters.

To further underscore how blasé the Pope and his cohorts actually are when it comes to causing offence or injury to members of their church, we today heard how Cardinal Walter Kasper referred to the UK as a “Third World country”. We, apparently, are a country marked by “a new and aggressive atheism” where even British Airways discriminates against those who wear a cross. The Vatican – laughably – explained the Third World reference by insisting that it wasn’t intended as any kind of slight but was merely referring to the UK’s multicultural society! Once again, this cackhanded attempt at damage limitation serves to show just how removed they are from reality – or, perhaps, how immune they consider themselves to be from it.

So, whatever your faith, I would – as a caring, hopefully moral man – like to emphasise that whilst I might not respect your particular beliefs, I certainly respect your right to believe whatever you wish. And, as I have stated elsewhere numerous times, I would indeed fight for that right. I don’t ask that you wave placards and shout slogans, only this: consider the words of Cardinal Newman – the beatification of whom Ratzinger is to announce during his visit to the UK – when he said, “I shall drink … to conscience first and to the Pope afterwards.”

Two sample chapters of If I Never can be read here.

To buy your copy of If I Never, please click here.

Also, UK Kindle users can now buy If I Never here. (US Kindle users here.)

© 2010 Gary William Murning (except for quotation and image.)

Abstain from… Texting.

Apparently, it’s Lent, again. That time of year I look forward because, they tell me, it’s a time when Christians give up things (although, I heard a priest on the radio just the other day insist that it’s also about taking up “better” things… sounded suspiciously like spin to me, but what do I know?) The idea of giving up something because it is part of some sort of religious festival doesn’t really appeal to me, naturally, my being an atheist — but it can be rather entertaining watching from my unabstemious (if there is such a word) vantage point.

Especially when presented with the ridiculous prospect of Bishops in Rome calling on Christians to give up mobile telephones and texting!

Of course, I’m sure we’ve all at one time (!) been annoyed by people using their mobile phones at the most inappropriate times. But the very notion that a tool for communication should be “given up” for a Christian holiday, or for any other reason, for that matter, strikes me as quite simply absurd.

As a priest points out in the video clip, he can use a text message to give advice to his parishioners. He sees the value. It isn’t a replacement for other forms of social interaction, it’s merely another way of keeping in touch, communicating, sharing, laughing, crying, arguing, debating — and, yes, sharing crude jokes, of course. It isn’t something that needs to be given up by most of us. My mobile phone is with me almost constantly. Data flows back and forth in numerous forms — telephone calls, text messages, emails, Twitter messages and so on — and my life isn’t tainted by it but, rather, enriched.

It’s all too easy to condemn communication because it involves a relatively new and speedily developing technology, because “the kids” are obsessed by it. But talking, whatever form it takes, is about sharing — about giving and receiving, learning (sometimes) and, quite often, growing.

It’s about the promulgation of myth and, also, the undermining of it. It’s one of the things that makes us human, and just because we’ve found a new way of doing it, it doesn’t make it bad.

If you really want to give up something worthwhile for Lent, I have a suggestion… but I’ll keep it to myself, because you’ve probably already guessed what it is, anyway.

© 2009 Gary William Murning

Richard Dawkins Interviewing the Novelist Ian McEwan.

A little short on time and inspiration again, today, but I have, thankfully, an interview that I really must share with you. An atheist and a novelist! How could I not?

All text © 2009 Gary William Murning