Why I Get My Knickers in a Twist.

Very occasionally, when I write about my atheistic/humanistic approach to life on this blog, I am asked why expressing my bordering-on-antitheistic position is so important to me. I mean, if I don’t believe, I don’t believe. What more really needs to be said on the subject? It’s not as if I’m being forced at gunpoint to attend church, now, is it?

And this is a valid point. Or it would be if we lived in a world where the actions and attitudes of others did not impact upon the world and people around them.

Frankly, I’ve never really hidden my atheism. I’ve never had to. But my decision to be more vocal about it, to encourage debate and to look at the issues that concern me as a human being was, it has to be said, partially prompted… substantially prompted by the overwhelming assault from Christianity I started to see online. On my MySpace page, for example, I’d selected “atheist” not as some kind of statement but merely in the same way that I had selected “male”. When I started receiving friend requests from Christians intent on showing me the error of my ways, however, I dashed along as quickly as was humanly possible to Richard Dawkins’s website and found one of those nice red “A”s to stick on my then blog over at MySpace.

There seemed a lack of balance in cyberspace. In a virtual sense, I felt as if I were at times living in the American Bible Belt.

And when I started to see similar religious attitudes creeping more forcefully into the UK, I didn’t believe that I had any choice other than to continue to openly and unapologetically express my views. The things I held dear were being gradually undermined.

And it would seem that they still are:

“Doctor Adam Rutherford has told Teachers TV News he has serious concerns over the findings of a survey on creationism in the classroom.

“Nearly a third of teachers, who responded to an email poll for Teachers TV, think creationism or intelligent design should be given the same status as evolution.

“Of the 248 science teachers who responded, 18% agreed that the two should have equal status.

“Dr Rutherford says that science teachers with those views need retraining or should be taken out of the classroom if they refuse to change their opinion.”

18%. It quite possibly doesn’t sound a whole lot to many people — and I know that some of my readers would argue (wrongly) that the 18% are quite correct. But given the number of teachers in the UK, this is a significant body of people. A body of people that does not understand scientific principles, or is perhaps taking the politically correct stance — afraid for whatever reason to challenge religious belief in the science classroom. A body of people that, as Dr Rutherford says, should be removed from their posts unless they teach the syllabus as it’s meant to be taught.

The insidiousness of creationism, it would seem, continues to make its mark in British schools, presenting a distorted view of science and attributing an utterly ridiculous equality to mythological mumbo-jumbo.

If we are to protect and nurture scientific development in the UK — continue to build a future founded on fact, logic, science and rationalism so that we all might enjoy the benefits — it’s vital that such opinions be relegated to their deserved position.

Religious Studies lessons or, even better, History.

© 2008 Gary William Murning

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Buses and Atheism — A Natural Progression?

When I think of buses, the first thing that springs to mind is not an opportunity to promote atheism. The way some of those sons of bitches drive, I’d actually expect quite the opposite! Haven’t you ever prayed on a bus? I know I have! (And before anyone sees this as an opportunity, I’m joking! I don’t pray — never have in any meaningful way — and, well, this gentleman is certainly not for turning, so save your breath 😉 )

However unlikely and bizarre the proposition might seem, however, if all goes according to plan there is a distinct possibility that from January of next year buses in the UK may be seen driving about with slogans such as “THERE’S PROBABLY NO GOD. Now Stop Worrying and Enjoy Your Life” emblazoned on the sides.

I must admit, however militant an atheist I can occasionally be, at first glance I had mixed feelings regarding this. And then I read this:

“As you read this, a new advertising campaign for Alpha Courses is running on London buses. If you attend an Alpha Course, you will again be told that failing to believe in Jesus will condemn you to hell. There’s no doubt that advertising can be effective, and religious advertising works particularly well on those who are vulnerable, frightening them into believing. Religious organisations’ jobs are made easier because there’s no publicly visible counter-view to refute their threats of eternal damnation.”

That swung it for me. It’s a clear and necessary reaction to the persistent encroachment of toxic myth on the lives of those of us who wish no part of it. As I’ve said many times before, I’m perfectly happy for other people to believe whatever they wish — once that belief encroaches upon what we know to be true or is used in an attempt to convert me, however, then a reaction is justified and morally correct.

For more on this and details of how to donate to the campaign, please visit here.

© 2008 Gary William Murning

Atheism and Me.

John over at Homo economicus’ Weblog tagged me to answer this series of questions regarding the big fella upstairs (who, in case you haven’t already realised, I don’t believe in).

Can You Remember The Day That You Officially Became An Atheist?

To be honest, the more I think about it, the more I realise I’ve never really been anything but an atheist. That might seem like a strange thing to say but let me break it down for you, and then see if it doesn’t sound a little less strange.

1. I was born an atheist. I had no knowledge of God until those around me told me about him. I had no childhood visionary experience, no bearded face staring down at me through the clouds, nothing — merely the cultural influences of religion which are addressed in point two.
2. My parents were/are not overtly religious. As it turned out, I was later to find that I come from a line of atheists on my father’s side — but nevertheless, in childhood I was touched by that wishy-washy, half-hearted Church of England tradition that many of us are possibly familiar with. I can’t remember anyone in my family attending church other than for christenings, funerals and the occasional wedding. I sang hymns at school and listened to the occasional passage being read from the New Testament — and on one occasion, I even played Joseph in the school nativity play. But did I actually believe any of it? That’s a tough one, but I’m not really convinced that I did — certainly not in the way that I would have believed as an adult. I accepted what I was told, but as soon as I learned that Father Christmas didn’t really exist my doubts in other areas — as ill-formed as they might have been — came to the fore. Granted, I was not an intellectual atheist in the way that I am today, but I’ve never really been guilty of having faith of this kind.

Do you remember the day you officially became an agnostic?

Technically, I’m agnostic. I’m a six on the Dawkins atheist scale, which means I believe the existence of God to have a very low probability — low enough to be an unrealistic proposition, but still short of zero. Dawkins would describe me as a de facto atheist, and I’d agree with that, but some will nevertheless insist that my position is that of an agnostic.

To answer your question, however, I have to say that I never became and have never considered myself an agnostic. At this time, I have absolutely no belief in any kind of god — but maybe someone will provide new evidence tomorrow (I don’t think so, but…) I work with what I know. Working with what I know I see no need of a god. Mine is not a noncommittal position or one of asserting that such things cannot be proved or disproved either way.

How about the last time you spoke or prayed to God with actual thought that someone was listening?

I don’t remember ever really feeling as if there were someone else on the other end of the line. I prayed because those around me — in school assembly, for example — were praying. All those people can’t be wrong, right? Wrong!

Did anger towards God or religion help cause you to be an atheist or agnostic?

Absolutely not. Apart from the logical impossibility of being angry at something I’ve never actually  believed in, I see too much understandable beauty around me to be angry about life and how it works. I see mysteries and experience wonder just about everywhere I look — but these mysteries are not unknowable, they are not beyond explanation. For me, understanding is more thrilling than anything else I know (well, almost… 😉 )

Religion, frankly, at times disgusts me now — but that’s because I understand its lies, and that disgust played no part in making me what I am.

Here is a good one: Were you agnostic towards ghosts, even after you became an atheist?

All aspects of the so-called “paranormal” interested me for a while, but largely from the perspective of wanting to understand. I prefer to use the word sceptic in this situation. I look at “evidence” and try to understand it, without automatically jumping to the conclusions that others do. For the record, I don’t believe in ghosts.

Do you want to be wrong?

Hell no! LOL. No, seriously, if we’re talking about whether I would like the Abrahamic god to exist, then I’d have to paraphrase Christopher Hitchens; if you prove to me he exists then your work has just begun. I do not want to know this kind of god. Hitchens compares this tradition (and others) to a dictatorship. He wants no part of it and neither do I.

If, on the other hand, there did turn out to be an afterlife that was much like this life but better then, yes, I’d be happy to be wrong.

I don’t think I am, though!

So to spread these ideas around, and keep the meme alive, I better tag some people:

Lottie.

Mike.

Hayley.

© 2008 Gary William Murning

All Hail the Strawmen!

Whilst catching up with the posts at homoeconomicusnet, I came across a piece that John had written on the sorry excuse for a journalist, Quentin Letts. As John points out:

“[…] he [Letts] has written a book on Fifty People Who Buggered Up Britain. He rails against the removal of corporal punishment from schools, that Britain is broken and the European super state is coming, when what we need is some more church going.”

Richard Dawkins is, of course, on the list at number 30.

What a complete and utter buffoon this Quentin Letts is! The last time I was truly miserable I was in a church! Admittedly, it was for a funeral service, but I found absolutely no comfort in the surroundings, the mythos behind them — and certainly not in the bumbling bloke in a frock up front.

I was an atheist long before I even knew who Richard Dawkins was. But Richard certainly reinforced my ability to argue from a position of a lack of belief. And in so doing he did not weaken my happiness. With books like Unweaving Rainbow, he did, in fact, the exact opposite.

Quentin Letts is unoriginal, facile, thick as pig-shit and clearly deluded in more than one sense of the word. And he isn’t funny.

(I bet he’s really ugly, too.)

© 2008 Gary William Murning

Richard Dawkins at the Edinburgh Book Festival.

Richard gets “speculative”.

Famous Last Words.

Death comes to us all. There’s a cheery thought for a Sunday afternoon. The Grim Reaper gives a swing of his sythe and before we know it, that’s that. It’s little use bemoaning or denying the fact, one day — hopefully far into the future — we are all destined to cop it.

So what can we do in the meantime but laugh at the possibility? After all, if you don’t laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, what else is there to do but hope for an afterlife? (And you all know my views on that!)

With this in mind — and in an attempt to lift your spirits after such a depressing opening — I thought I’d share some of my favourite famous last words with you. I’m not sure just how genuine they are and, frankly, I can’t be arsed verifying them (it’s not like they’re going to sue me, now, is it?) So take them with a pinch of salt and bear in mind that I’m sharing them because I believe that if they aren’t true, they bloody well should be!

• “I’ve never felt better.” — Douglas Fairbanks Sr.
• “I’ve had eighteen straight whiskies, I think that’s the record…” — Dylan Thomas.
• “Woe is me. Methinks I’m turning into a god.” — Vespasian, Roman Emperor. (I always find such ambition impressive!)
• “I’d hate to die twice. It’s so boring.” — Richard Feynman. (I couldn’t leave Richard out now, could I?)
• “Damn it . . . Don’t you dare ask God to help me.” — Joan Crawford. (Once a bitch, always a bitch — good luck, God!)
• “I do not have to forgive my enemies. I have had them all shot.” — Ramon Narvaez, 18th-century Spanish politician and general.
• “Tomorrow, I shall no longer be here.” — Nostradamus. (Now why couldn’t he be as clear and concise with the rest of his sodding prophesies!)

And finally…

• “Do you know where I can get any shit?” — Lenny Bruce.

© 2008 Gary William Murning

Search Engine Terms.

I’m sure it’s nothing new to anyone out there who’s been online for any length of time, but people search for the strangest things. From ways to blow up cars to Elvis Presley reading lights. Today, however, one search term really made me sit up and take notice.

Someone had actually hit my site after searching for…

… “una stubbs upskirt”!

I mean, no disrespect to Una Stubbs, but why would anyone want to look up her skirt? And, perhaps more to the point, who would want to? Cliff Richard reminiscing about the happy times they had whilst filming Summer Holiday, perhaps? Or simply someone with an Aunt Sally fetish?

Whoever it was, they’ll have been disappointed; I’ve searched everywhere and still haven’t been able to find a single upskirt Una Stubbs shot!

I did, however, find a girl called Abby who wanted to sell me her used panties.

I blame the credit crunch.

(And, for the record, no I didn’t!)

© 2008 Gary William Murning