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"In 2004, scholars at UCLA revealed that college students involved in religious activities are likely to have better mental health. In 2006, population researchers at the University of Texas discovered that the more often you go to church, the longer you live. In the same year researchers at Duke University in America discovered that religious people have stronger immune systems than the irreligious. They also established that churchgoers have lower blood pressure.
Meanwhile in 2009 a team of Harvard psychologists discovered that believers who checked into hospital with broken hips reported less depression, had shorter hospital stays, and could hobble further when they left hospital – as compared to their similarly crippled but heathen fellow-sufferers.
The list goes on. In the last few years scientists have revealed that believers, compared to non-believers, have better outcomes from breast cancer, coronary disease, mental illness, Aids, and rheumatoid arthritis. Believers even get better results from IVF. Likewise, believers also report greater levels of happiness, are less likely to commit suicide, and cope with stressful events much better. Believers also have more kids.
What’s more, these benefits are visible even if you adjust for the fact that believers are less likely to smoke, drink or take drugs. And let’s not forget that religious people are nicer.They certainly give more money to charity than atheists, who are, according to the very latest survey, the meanest of all.
So which is the smart party, here? Is it the atheists, who live short, selfish, stunted little lives – often childless – before they approach hopeless death in despair, and their worthless corpses are chucked in a trench (or, if they are wrong, they go to Hell)? Or is it the believers, who live longer, happier, healthier, more generous lives, and who have more kids, and who go to their quietus with ritual dignity, expecting to be greeted by a smiling and benevolent God?"
Actually, religious people and gun nuts are the mentally ill.
I, for one, am an athiest, childless, and have a rich fulfilling life full of friends and love. Who the F are you to make such generalizations and judgments? Keep to your own twisted, pathetic life, and let others enjoy theirs.
Actually, religious people and gun nuts are the mentally ill.
I, for one, am an athiest, childless, and have a rich fulfilling life full of friends and love. Who the F are you to make such generalizations and judgments? Keep to your own twisted, pathetic life, and let others enjoy theirs.
Gee....
I have a lot of guns, three kids, one wife, faith, travel quite a bit, a great profession, lots of toys, and a narrow group of good friends.
I could not imagine a life without kids, as they were fun as hell growing up. Likewise, I can't imagine a life without some faith (even though I have tremendous confidence).
Whatever floats your boat is fine. If being an antheist is what works for you, that is great. However, it is equally ignorant condemning Christians for thier faith as it is them condemning you for being an antheist. You see... it cuts both ways.
I have a lot of guns, three kids, one wife, faith, travel quite a bit, a great profession, lots of toys, and a narrow group of good friends.
I could not imagine a life without kids, as they were fun as hell growing up. Likewise, I can't imagine a life without some faith (even though I have tremendous confidence).
Whatever floats your boat is fine. If being an antheist is what works for you, that is great. However, it is equally ignorant condemning Christians for thier faith as it is them condemning you for being an antheist. You see... it cuts both ways.
I could not imagine life with kids. But hey, whatever floats your boat.
I am not condemning anyone for their faith. I just think that the concept of an Invisible Man watching over you all day is pretty far-fetched. The brain is a powerful organ. If "faith" provides comfort, the brain will respond.
I do think the people who rely on religion a little too much have a mild form of mental or emotional illness, and they are crowding religion into that space as a Band-Aid. My original statement was too broad and harsh, and perhaps a bit intentionally provocative.
I prayed for years for the sexual abuse to stop. It didn't, so I stop believing. This occurred at the same time as me realizing that the bible stories were just that - stories.
It took me a few years of growing before the abuse stopped - not by an act of a god, but by virtue of my growing up and telling him to stop of go to jail.
Wow, I'm really sorry to hear that I'm lucky in that I managed to get through childhood with my innocence intact (and then promptly threw it away on my own around the time I was twelve).
We lived in Boston during the whole Father Geoghan sex abuse scandal. I have friends and family members who were abused by clergy - and not just from the Catholic church, either. I've heard people who are Protestant sort of make jabs, in jest, about Catholic priests... though one of my closest male family members was sexually abused by a protestant minister as a child and no one believed him because he was a good, honest family man.
A dear friend of mine was sexually assaulted (digitally penetrated) on the back of a bus coming back from a church retreat in the late 90's by a group of guys who all came from upstanding Catholic families that contributed lots of money to the Boston archdiocese. Her parents went to the church about the incident, and the church told them not to go to the police - that they'd handle it internally.
"Handling it internally" meant that she had to go and describe, in lurid detail to a group of men, what happened to her, replete with questions like, "how did it feel?," "did he put his fingers inside you or just lay them on you?" and "did you like it?" They also made her put on what she was wearing when the assault happened - a pair of tight Adidas workout pants and a tank top - and determined that based on her outfit and the church priest's input that she had a "flirty" demeanor much of the time, that although what they did was still wrong, she instigated the situation by putting herself on the back of the bus with a group of guys. Other kids on the bus had come forward to say that a few of them prevented anyone from going to the back of the bus to use the toilet, and it appeared as though she was in distress... but they didn't actually interview any of those kids.
Ultimately, they told one of the boys he needed to do community service and some rosaries, and she got the same punishment
This was about fifteen years ago now, and I'm still one of the only men that she trusts to talk to. She's surrounded herself with animals, rarely leaves her apartment, is terrified of traveling, and won't get on a subway or train unless she's right by the door.
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I'm sorry to hear that your father took that stance, but happy that you did get back into his good graces.
Yeah, it sucked, but again... per your experience and those of my friend, I got off easy. It wasn't easy being unwelcome in your own home, and indeed, by the time I was fifteen I was floundering in school. I dropped out of school at sixteen, started working, and moved out, bouncing around on older coworkers' and friends' couches and floors and occasionally pitching in as a roomie in flats all around the greater Boston area.
Quote:
I was forced to go to Sunday school and church for over 3 years after I told my parents I did not believe in their god or Jesus or their bible. Every Sunday became torture.
I was so very glad that we moved out of state when we did... they were getting ready to have me accepted into the church and that was something I was NOT going to do. I was ready for the fight, but so happy I did not have deal with it. They seriously did not believe me when I told them I had had enough of their religion.
They tried to get us to go to church in AZ, but we wanted nothing to do with it and let them know it.
Soon we all stopped going.
My parents hatched a deal with me where they'd stop trying to get me to go to church if I went to the youth group - I did, mostly because there were some cute girls there and we, too, were new to the area, so I figured the friends couldn't hurt.
It actually worked against them: talking in a group about scripture and how to live life as a Christian just gave me an avenue to talk through, reason, and vocalize exactly how incompatible I was with the faith. The youth group leaders were good people - bona-fide hippie-era Jesus Freaks - and I actually do still keep in contact with them, amazingly enough... but ultimately, they had to come to the same conclusion as everyone around me: that I'm just not a person of faith. No matter how I read the bible, I find no meaning in it; when I hear the scriptures, the high points have no more meaning to me than a passing quote from any other person, or for that matter, from a fortune cookie or Hallmark card.
The filler between those high points is mind-numbingly boring, pointless, contradictory, and generally unenjoyable to read; Jesus Christ is an ancient superhero, no different from Orpheus or Hercules, cobbled together from then-generations-old hearsay and selective adaptation of other ancient mythical/spiritual charaters, whom I feel no more admiration towards than I do any other figment of literature.
These were the convictions that I gained from increased study of the bible and Christ, and from being in a Christian community...
An old book full of guilt-tripping nonsense.
A mythical figure whose message was at odds with the god behind him.
A malevolent god whose love was conditional and sadistic.
A community led by self-loathing, predatory, greedy men, and filled with well-meaning but fearful people.
No thank you.
Wow, I'm really sorry to hear that I'm lucky in that I managed to get through childhood with my innocence intact (and then promptly threw it away on my own around the time I was twelve).
We lived in Boston during the whole Father Geoghan sex abuse scandal. I have friends and family members who were abused by clergy - and not just from the Catholic church, either. I've heard people who are Protestant sort of make jabs, in jest, about Catholic priests... though one of my closest male family members was sexually abused by a protestant minister as a child and no one believed him because he was a good, honest family man.
A dear friend of mine was sexually assaulted (digitally penetrated) on the back of a bus coming back from a church retreat in the late 90's by a group of guys who all came from upstanding Catholic families that contributed lots of money to the Boston archdiocese. Her parents went to the church about the incident, and the church told them not to go to the police - that they'd handle it internally.
"Handling it internally" meant that she had to go and describe, in lurid detail to a group of men, what happened to her, replete with questions like, "how did it feel?," "did he put his fingers inside you or just lay them on you?" and "did you like it?" They also made her put on what she was wearing when the assault happened - a pair of tight Adidas workout pants and a tank top - and determined that based on her outfit and the church priest's input that she had a "flirty" demeanor much of the time, that although what they did was still wrong, she instigated the situation by putting herself on the back of the bus with a group of guys. Other kids on the bus had come forward to say that a few of them prevented anyone from going to the back of the bus to use the toilet, and it appeared as though she was in distress... but they didn't actually interview any of those kids.
Ultimately, they told one of the boys he needed to do community service and some rosaries, and she got the same punishment
This was about fifteen years ago now, and I'm still one of the only men that she trusts to talk to. She's surrounded herself with animals, rarely leaves her apartment, is terrified of traveling, and won't get on a subway or train unless she's right by the door.
Yeah, it sucked, but again... per your experience and those of my friend, I got off easy. It wasn't easy being unwelcome in your own home, and indeed, by the time I was fifteen I was floundering in school. I dropped out of school at sixteen, started working, and moved out, bouncing around on older coworkers' and friends' couches and floors and occasionally pitching in as a roomie in flats all around the greater Boston area.
My parents hatched a deal with me where they'd stop trying to get me to go to church if I went to the youth group - I did, mostly because there were some cute girls there and we, too, were new to the area, so I figured the friends couldn't hurt.
It actually worked against them: talking in a group about scripture and how to live life as a Christian just gave me an avenue to talk through, reason, and vocalize exactly how incompatible I was with the faith. The youth group leaders were good people - bona-fide hippie-era Jesus Freaks - and I actually do still keep in contact with them, amazingly enough... but ultimately, they had to come to the same conclusion as everyone around me: that I'm just not a person of faith. No matter how I read the bible, I find no meaning in it; when I hear the scriptures, the high points have no more meaning to me than a passing quote from any other person, or for that matter, from a fortune cookie or Hallmark card.
The filler between those high points is mind-numbingly boring, pointless, contradictory, and generally unenjoyable to read; Jesus Christ is an ancient superhero, no different from Orpheus or Hercules, cobbled together from then-generations-old hearsay and selective adaptation of other ancient mythical/spiritual charaters, whom I feel no more admiration towards than I do any other figment of literature.
These were the convictions that I gained from increased study of the bible and Christ, and from being in a Christian community...
An old book full of guilt-tripping nonsense.
A mythical figure whose message was at odds with the god behind him.
A malevolent god whose love was conditional and sadistic.
A community led by self-loathing, predatory, greedy men, and filled with well-meaning but fearful people.
No thank you.
Holy H. Carp and all the sinners.
Just reading your posts makes me almost ashamed to be human.
I'm so sorry for you, Tulani, and for your friend, 415.
I could not imagine life with kids. But hey, whatever floats your boat.
I think that part of the reason that you end up with so much child abuse within church circles is because of the social pressure for people to have children even if they don't want them. The number of people who don't want to have children is probably much greater than people will let on, but due to the social stigma from within their communities if they announce their true opinion of the matter, this could lead to huge social consequences that could also affect their career, home life, etc. It's the same as admitting that you're not religious in an area where this is an entrenched status quo.
I'm (obviously) a fairly staunch atheist, but I do want children. I love kids, and find them fascinating and wonderful. I couldn't condemn someone for not wanting to have them, because as is the case with faith, these are deeply personal decisions which no one can make for an individual but themselves. No one else can make these decisions for others.
[quote]I am not condemning anyone for their faith. I just think that the concept of an Invisible Man watching over you all day is pretty far-fetched. The brain is a powerful organ. If "faith" provides comfort, the brain will respond.
Quote:
I do think the people who rely on religion a little too much have a mild form of mental or emotional illness, and they are crowding religion into that space as a Band-Aid. My original statement was too broad and harsh, and perhaps a bit intentionally provocative.
It never ceases to amaze me how otherwise entirely-rational and reasonable people can ultimately have such a deeply-entrenched conviction in something so completely irrational and fantastic, especially when it comes at the exclusion of other doctrines that are equally irrational and fantastic.
How is the Christian faith any more or less reasonable than worshiping a twelve-armed blue guy with a footlong tongue and an elephant-headed woman? How are Mohammed's words any less virtuous than Jesus'? What's so weird about the notion of reincarnation in the face of a pit of eternal fire, filled with screeching, big-nosed, winged demons or a luminous, white, gilded heaven filled with divine angels?
If that sort of thing makes people happy, fine... I want no part of it, and don't want these fairy tales interfering with my life on any level.
Wow, I'm really sorry to hear that I'm lucky in that I managed to get through childhood with my innocence intact (and then promptly threw it away on my own around the time I was twelve).
We lived in Boston during the whole Father Geoghan sex abuse scandal. I have friends and family members who were abused by clergy - and not just from the Catholic church, either. I've heard people who are Protestant sort of make jabs, in jest, about Catholic priests... though one of my closest male family members was sexually abused by a protestant minister as a child and no one believed him because he was a good, honest family man.
A dear friend of mine was sexually assaulted (digitally penetrated) on the back of a bus coming back from a church retreat in the late 90's by a group of guys who all came from upstanding Catholic families that contributed lots of money to the Boston archdiocese. Her parents went to the church about the incident, and the church told them not to go to the police - that they'd handle it internally.
"Handling it internally" meant that she had to go and describe, in lurid detail to a group of men, what happened to her, replete with questions like, "how did it feel?," "did he put his fingers inside you or just lay them on you?" and "did you like it?" They also made her put on what she was wearing when the assault happened - a pair of tight Adidas workout pants and a tank top - and determined that based on her outfit and the church priest's input that she had a "flirty" demeanor much of the time, that although what they did was still wrong, she instigated the situation by putting herself on the back of the bus with a group of guys. Other kids on the bus had come forward to say that a few of them prevented anyone from going to the back of the bus to use the toilet, and it appeared as though she was in distress... but they didn't actually interview any of those kids.
Ultimately, they told one of the boys he needed to do community service and some rosaries, and she got the same punishment
This was about fifteen years ago now, and I'm still one of the only men that she trusts to talk to. She's surrounded herself with animals, rarely leaves her apartment, is terrified of traveling, and won't get on a subway or train unless she's right by the door.
Yeah, it sucked, but again... per your experience and those of my friend, I got off easy. It wasn't easy being unwelcome in your own home, and indeed, by the time I was fifteen I was floundering in school. I dropped out of school at sixteen, started working, and moved out, bouncing around on older coworkers' and friends' couches and floors and occasionally pitching in as a roomie in flats all around the greater Boston area.
My parents hatched a deal with me where they'd stop trying to get me to go to church if I went to the youth group - I did, mostly because there were some cute girls there and we, too, were new to the area, so I figured the friends couldn't hurt.
It actually worked against them: talking in a group about scripture and how to live life as a Christian just gave me an avenue to talk through, reason, and vocalize exactly how incompatible I was with the faith. The youth group leaders were good people - bona-fide hippie-era Jesus Freaks - and I actually do still keep in contact with them, amazingly enough... but ultimately, they had to come to the same conclusion as everyone around me: that I'm just not a person of faith. No matter how I read the bible, I find no meaning in it; when I hear the scriptures, the high points have no more meaning to me than a passing quote from any other person, or for that matter, from a fortune cookie or Hallmark card.
The filler between those high points is mind-numbingly boring, pointless, contradictory, and generally unenjoyable to read; Jesus Christ is an ancient superhero, no different from Orpheus or Hercules, cobbled together from then-generations-old hearsay and selective adaptation of other ancient mythical/spiritual charaters, whom I feel no more admiration towards than I do any other figment of literature.
These were the convictions that I gained from increased study of the bible and Christ, and from being in a Christian community...
An old book full of guilt-tripping nonsense.
A mythical figure whose message was at odds with the god behind him.
A malevolent god whose love was conditional and sadistic.
A community led by self-loathing, predatory, greedy men, and filled with well-meaning but fearful people.
No thank you.
Terrific post. Thanks.
My son often wonders how I got out of that family the way I did. My siblings - each and every one of them - have the nasty traits of our parents. They might not have all of them, but they each have some sadistic thinking.
I turned 180 degrees from my upbringing. I refused to live my life the way I was raised... and my son is so thankful I did.
Quote:
Originally Posted by jmqueen
Holy H. Carp and all the sinners.
Just reading your posts makes me almost ashamed to be human.
I'm so sorry for you, Tulani, and for your friend, 415.
Thanks. It sucked, but actually made me stronger and determined that my own child would not face any of the hardships I faced. (He had his own hardships to deal with, but none involved sexual molestations!)
[quote=tulani;31084062]Terrific post. Thanks.
My son often wonders how I got out of that family the way I did. My siblings - each and every one of them - have the nasty traits of our parents. They might not have all of them, but they each have some sadistic thinking.
I turned 180 degrees from my upbringing. I refused to live my life the way I was raised... and my son is so thankful I did. /QUOTE]
And that in many ways is the hardest thing of all. To be forging your own path -- after an experience like that -- without any family support or understanding. You must be one strong, ass-kickin' woman.
I know that molestation, bigotry and dysfunctional families happen in religious and non-religious families alike. But I've worked with and known hundreds of abused women, and all but a handful were abused by religious nuts.
Just reading your posts makes me almost ashamed to be human.
I'm so sorry for you, Tulani, and for your friend, 415.
Well, life isn't easy for anyone; everyone goes through their own set of tribulations that affect them uniquely. I've lived through things that would have made other people kill themselves, and I've broken down at points where other people would have kept on chuggin' along.
Nonetheless, I still find the world a beautiful place and find most people to be basically good - over the course of my day, I encounter many, many more people who are friendly, kind, and pleasant than I do people who are malignant and out to do harm.
There seems to be an a misconception amongst many people of faith that as an atheist, my life must be one that is cold, claustrophobic, and imposing. The implication given is that I have no reason to wake up in the morning, no reason to leave my house and work, or socialize with friends, learn new things, create art or music or do anything substantive... because who cares? There's nothing greater than us! There's nothing beyond this! What's my incentive to not just spend my days doing drugs and masturbating because that makes me feel good?
Well, again, to me the world is a beautiful place. I find great beauty in many things over the course of the day... from my pet bird singing happily when I open the curtains in the morning, to the taste of a meal I created from ingredients grown by other people for the purpose of sustaining life, to that specific, fleeting feeling from that moment when you turn your car down a specific street and the sunlight filtering through the trees and the perfect breeze combine with the song coming through to put a smile on your face.
I live a good life. I'm getting into my convertible and driving across the country back to Boston in a few weeks to have another wonderful experience, and to take a few thousand photographs of whatever may come my way, and reconnect with old friends and spend time with family; things I'll keep with me for the rest of my life and take with me whatever direction my life may go. Mid/late October, I fly out to China for an indefinite period of time, because it sounds like fun.
To be blunt, my life kicks ass.
How could I find beauty and freedom in a life in which I feel as though every moment of my life, I am being watched and judged against a set of rules which often conflict against my nature? What joy could I possibly derive from a life in which at any given moment, a completely innocuous action could exclude me from "The Book Of Life" and have me cast into eternal damnation? I mean, if I'm not supposed to smirk to myself when an attractive girl walks by, then why do I find her attractive? If I'm not supposed to want nice things, then why do I want them? And why do the people who tell me I'm not supposed to want them have them, themselves? What kind of a loving and just god creates a world in which waking up in the morning is the start of a gauntlet of trials that will effect you for all eternity?
I don't need god's blessing to find the world an amazing and wonderful place. Life isn't a freakin' test, life is life. You only have one, and to live it in fear of eternal damnation is not virtuous; it's prison.
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I'm lucky in that I managed to get through childhood with my innocence intact (and then promptly threw it away on my own around the time I was twelve).
