Twiddle

"I do not fear death, in view of the fact that I had been dead for billions and billions of years before I was born, and had not suffered the slightest inconvenience from it."
- Mark Twain

"Reality is whatever refuses to go away after I stop believing in it."
- Phillip K. Dick

Seven of our 90-ish resident Orca whales have apparently died, including the almost 100 year old matriarch. It makes me sad. I have seen them so many times, I have come to love them. I love the mysterious world they live in, and the mammalian breath they can hold for uncounted minutes. I love that they sing and love each other, and that they are still fundamentally mysterious to us in so many ways.

I've been wanting to go to San Juan Island for a couple of weeks. I haven't been there in a year and a half, since Mom's first posthumous birthday. I feel a compulsion to take the long ferry ride through her beloved green islands, to sit on her beach, and to just be for a bit. I need to let my pieces fall back into place. Maybe I'll see the whales.

My Apology

Christianity pisses me off. Every time I stumble through Christian stations on the car radio, I say either, “stupid Christians,” or, “fucking Christians,” depending on how painfully strident or prostrate the snippet they inflict upon me in their 2 seconds of air time is. It isn’t rational. It is a gut level, knee-jerk rage I feel every time I see another cattle-barn mega-church or hear a classic Christian phrase like, “God’s plan for us,” or “equally yoked.” I do have some good reasons for objecting to Christianity. All non-believers are familiar with them. Christians annoy everyone with their proselytizing, their smug assurance that they, and they alone are going to heaven, that they alone know God’s will. They try to change the laws of this beautifully secular nation to reflect their narrow values. They famously fail to follow the teachings of their so-called savior. Jesus was all about social justice, non-violence, and deepest integrity. He would have been best buddies with Ghandi, Martin Luther King, Mother Theresa, and John Lennon, but they actually think he’d prefer to associate with the likes of Sarah Palin or Billy Graham. Jesus was all about this life, today. He was about doing the right thing, not saving your sorry-ass soul. Heaven is a despicable lie designed to keep the underdogs of the world working for nothing so the rich can keep getting richer. Christians hurt us all with their condemnations of gays, their antagonism to other religions, their narrow-minded certainty that they know what is right for everyone, and their ignorant willingness to throw away what is magical and beautiful in this life for the promise of the next.

Those are not the only reasons I get so angry every time I am reminded of the existence of Christianity, though. I am angry because I was brought up to believe that shit. I was told that God loves me, that he knows my heart and really loves and accepts me. I was told that I would see all of my departed loved ones again in Heaven some day. I was told that my soul was eternal and would be united with God, himself, on judgement day. I never really understood it all. I couldn’t quite understand what I could ever do that would merit eternal hell. What kind of god would allow someone to burn for all eternity? How could there be any reason or benefit for that? That was the beginning of the end for me. God must be an asshole to be so cruel. Then I started thinking about the meaning of blood sacrifice, that God wanted Jesus, his only son, to die on the cross to redeem me for my sins. How barbaric! Sorry, but I’ve got no use for an asshole god like that. I have done nothing in my life to merit hell or blood sacrifice, and I’d rather burn for eternity than worship such an asshole! Then, in 1987, I had a spiritual journey. I fasted for three days, alone in the woods. I learned that life is mystery and miracle enough. There is no god, and no need for god. It took many more years for me to let go of it all, but that was the day my god died.

I really want to believe that I will see my beloved dead again. It is the most unbearable thing of all to think that I will not. It is unbearable to think that I will be parted from my own children by death. I want to believe that we are here for a reason, that our spark of life and brief arc of existence means something. I cling to the evidence I have. I cling to the rainbows and visions my Mother may have sent. I cling to the rare miracles I believe I have seen. They don’t add up to god any more, but they allow me to believe that there is more than we see. I still need that, and I guess that is the real core of my burning anger. I want a real discussion about the shape and origin of the universe, about our duties as members of society, about the wonder and potential of art and science. Instead I get creationism and bigotry and the politics of narrow minds. I have to spend $8,000 a year to get my kid the education he deserves because the public schools are busy pandering to the lowest common denominator. Do I blame Christians for all that? Yes, I do. Hell, I’ll even blame them for the fact that the US can’t go metric. Christians are skeptical of science. They think scientific curiosity is one of the devil’s tools! They think we’re in the final days, so global warming doesn’t matter. They are jamming on the brakes so we can’t reach for the next great paradigm. That’s why I hates them, Precious. That’s why.