God is not Great
Am currently obsessively reading this book by Christopher Hitchens (I've been waiting impatiently until it has come out in paperback for cheapness purposes). Of course the old chap is preaching to the converted in my case, but it is such a pleasure to read something scholarly, witty (and unapologetic) that confirms that my world view is not heretic but actually quite sensible. And I'm happy to say that Hitchens doesn't hold back on putting the boot into Islam as well as Christianity, Buddism and any other kind of religious shenanigans that anyone dare care to mention.
Freedom of thought is the one human right that you can never truly take away from anyone, despite the best efforts of zealots and tyrants everywhere, and it is an incredible shame that so many people simply choose to hand their minds over to the petty rules and regulations of world religions and (more importantly) the leaders of these religions. I would never ask or expect anyone to give up their faith or stop believing in whatever deity it is they think is the big pie in the sky, because their own thoughts on the meaning of life are theirs by right ... but I do feel the world can only be a poorer place for those who act under it's illusionary jurisdiction.
I have prayed (or had the urge to pray) to God as an adult, but on those rare occasions I was acutely aware that it was my weakness pushing me to it. When my Granddad was taken seriously ill I remember wandering the streets of Belfast looking for a Church of Ireland church to say a prayer in (the fact that I wasn't comfortable in churches of another denomination says enough by itself really...). I never found that church or said that prayer, but the time I spent trooping through the empty Sunday streets of Sandy Row and Shankhill, just thinking, was enough to restore me. The other times I have prayed have been in those magnificent, thumping periods of despair that follow someone (often *ahem* yourself) letting you down, and consequently all your rational thoughts abandon you. I am happy to declare that, my Granddad did recover (as have I) proving absolutely fuck all really.
If God did exist, I would hope he wouldn't single out my prayers out for answering anyway. I mean, come on, has he nothing better to do than solve a bit of petty, temporary heartbreak and the everyday reality of living and dying?? As for the supposed comfort of the afterlife, if the Christian (or indeed Islamic / Judaic big fella) is really in existence, as the holy books describe him, I wonder if I (as a heathen who has somehow managed to get good morals despite myself) would actually want to take my place in his misogynistic / violent / mind-numbing / sycophantic dictatorship of heaven? Perhaps hell and old Nick have something better to offer me??? The assumptions made by the big religions are simply outstanding and often dense.
I prefer to think that when I die I am simply absorbed, as matter, back into the world from which I was born, and live on as a tiny little part of this amazing big and beautiful unknown universe.... that is an afterlife worth taking part in surely?
Freedom of thought is the one human right that you can never truly take away from anyone, despite the best efforts of zealots and tyrants everywhere, and it is an incredible shame that so many people simply choose to hand their minds over to the petty rules and regulations of world religions and (more importantly) the leaders of these religions. I would never ask or expect anyone to give up their faith or stop believing in whatever deity it is they think is the big pie in the sky, because their own thoughts on the meaning of life are theirs by right ... but I do feel the world can only be a poorer place for those who act under it's illusionary jurisdiction.
I have prayed (or had the urge to pray) to God as an adult, but on those rare occasions I was acutely aware that it was my weakness pushing me to it. When my Granddad was taken seriously ill I remember wandering the streets of Belfast looking for a Church of Ireland church to say a prayer in (the fact that I wasn't comfortable in churches of another denomination says enough by itself really...). I never found that church or said that prayer, but the time I spent trooping through the empty Sunday streets of Sandy Row and Shankhill, just thinking, was enough to restore me. The other times I have prayed have been in those magnificent, thumping periods of despair that follow someone (often *ahem* yourself) letting you down, and consequently all your rational thoughts abandon you. I am happy to declare that, my Granddad did recover (as have I) proving absolutely fuck all really.
If God did exist, I would hope he wouldn't single out my prayers out for answering anyway. I mean, come on, has he nothing better to do than solve a bit of petty, temporary heartbreak and the everyday reality of living and dying?? As for the supposed comfort of the afterlife, if the Christian (or indeed Islamic / Judaic big fella) is really in existence, as the holy books describe him, I wonder if I (as a heathen who has somehow managed to get good morals despite myself) would actually want to take my place in his misogynistic / violent / mind-numbing / sycophantic dictatorship of heaven? Perhaps hell and old Nick have something better to offer me??? The assumptions made by the big religions are simply outstanding and often dense.
I prefer to think that when I die I am simply absorbed, as matter, back into the world from which I was born, and live on as a tiny little part of this amazing big and beautiful unknown universe.... that is an afterlife worth taking part in surely?
posted by TheMightyDing at 09:08
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