As an atheist, who not only doesn’t believe in god but thinks Religion has been the most destructive force in human history, responsible for more death, destruction, torture and hatred than anything else; that religion is based on fear and division; that American evangelicals are no different to ISIS Muslim Neanderthals; and that atheists have a higher morality, I thought this article was quite accurate.
People Who Don’t Believe In God Often Have These 15 Qualities Too
I thought of myself as a tolerant person but, there again, you had to oppose intolerance and fight it with all the force you could muster. We lived in such a ridiculous time that you could get your head sliced off for drawing a cartoon! That was not the sort of world I wanted to live in. I raged against any system that forced people to wear a standard uniform and follow an enforced routine and doctrine, whether that was Mao suits or Islamic Burqas. Surely religion was a personal choice? Any imposition or restrictions on the way one lived should be opposed?
But then, perhaps I had been spouting off too much? Was I all mouth and no trousers? What was I doing about it?
My great idea had been to write a book exposing the obvious stupidities of all religions; to show how they were mere human fabrications: to reveal the real history of religion, the way it had been constructed and used. My belief had been that if you simply stood back from religion and looked at it objectively, it simply did not hold up. The inconsistencies, power struggles and fabrications shone through. It had so obviously been thought up by men.
I loved running my ideas around friends. I was passionate about it, though Liz said I was boring the ears off everyone. But that didn’t stop me. I couldn’t resist it. I enjoyed the repartee and it enabled me to examine my thoughts and ideas, to shape them.
Kathy thought I was a bullshitter. She wanted me to be more coherent and did not really believe I would get around to writing the book. She was pushing me and believed in the Socratic Method. That was cool with me.
Returning to our new home, Kathy and I had settled in the comfy sitting room of the three hundred year old house while Liz and Tobes took their turn at preparing the evening meal. Liz and I had fallen in love with this rustic retreat with its old brick, cracked ancient wood and rough plastered walls, all very distorted with age and unpretentious. It was an old and friendly space, welcoming and harmonious, mirroring the relationship of old friends.
The meal was cooking in the oven, and Liz and Tobes had taken themselves off to the kitchen to sort the peripherals and continue their conversation about the children and the lives they were carving for themselves, distancing themselves from the intensity of discussion about infinity and religion. You never stopped worrying about the kids, even though they were now all in their late twenties and thirties. You just didn’t. But I just had to examine other issues – when it wasn’t politics that invariably went to religion, spirituality or nature. I couldn’t help myself.
Kathy and I were left sitting in the front room with a bottle of red between us. I knew Liz would never believe me, but it had been Kathy who had brought the subject back up.
I surveyed her imploring face and frowned quizzically. ‘Well now Kathy, I think I’d like to come up with some new smart retort that’d make that bigoted redneck feel stupid – make him want to reassess his whole life.’ I replied mischievously, reflecting for a moment on what that could possibly be. I went on, clutching around for something that fitted the bill. ‘Unfortunately you can never think of anything smart to say at the time,’ I explained, playing for time. ‘That never happens. Not until you’ve walked away and ruminated on all the clever stuff you should have said. Still, I’d probably resort to paraphrasing Hitchins and tell him to take that giant enema so he could be buried in a matchbox.’
‘But Oph, old chap,’ Kathy said with a hint of a smirk, puffing on the dying spliff, ‘he might not understand that! Besides you’re much too polite to say anything of the sort.’
That was the good thing about old friends – you could talk about anything and have a laugh without having to watch what you said. I topped up the wine. Tobes’ laughter drifted through from the kitchen where he was nattering to Liz while she sorted the dressing for the salad.
‘That’s the trouble, isn’t it? Religion stops you thinking. I’d never change his mind. He’d never even question it.’ I observed reflectively, swirling the wine around my glass, looking sideways at Kathy.
‘So, what do you think the world’d be like without religion, Oph?’ Kathy demanded, draining her glass and topping it up, passing me the spliff.
That was an interesting question. I wanted to say straight off how much better it would be, but there was more to it than that. Phew. The more I pondered that the more the implications were enormous.
‘I dunno, Kathy,’ I mused, frowning and pulling on the spliff. ‘It’d be a lot different. Just think – if we didn’t have all that energy put into building all those churches, temples and cathedrals; if everyone hadn’t wasted all that time and energy in pointless ceremonies and prayer; if we hadn’t been held back for thousands of years with all that superstition.’ I was warming to it. My imagination was already extrapolating out the possibilities, all the better uses those energies could be put to —– ‘If all that energy was put into more positive things!!’
‘Yeah, but Oph,’ Kathy retorted rather aggressively, reaching across for the spliff, ‘those temples are beautiful, and the music and art. Wouldn’t the world be a dreary place without it?’
I have just completed the rewrite of my Sci Fi novel Ghenghis Smith. It has finished up as 67,000 words – around 210 pages.
I have ordered a test copy so I can check it out in the final format.
Now begins the task of seeking a publisher for these five books. That’s my next project!
I now have 5 unpublished Sci Fi novels based around the same background:
Terra 3 (the Cabal) – A story of a Trumpian corrupt politician – It is the year 3960 of the System – a sprawling confederation of planets spanning hundreds of thousands of worlds.
Human beings have come a long way through space and time but nothing much changes.
This is a tale of war, political intrigue, greed, power and conspiracy.
The Cabal are a ruthless group of the wealthiest people that have ever lived. They have everything but they want more and are prepared to do anything to achieve their goal, even destroy worlds.
The President is equally selfish and greedy and is in their pay.
A young hacker is all that stands between the might of the evil establishment, who are busy plotting a war that would kill billions, and a brighter, fairer future.
The Scrolls of Pandora 3 – based around religious fanaticism – Ron Gravimere, hopelessly marooned in space, looked into the face of god and wrote down the voices in his head.
Those words became the Scrolls of Pandora 3.
Pandora 3 is a remote world on the edge of the rim. The Karacher, a cult of fearsome zealots, began their campaign to take over the System and bring the word of Kaliber to the Gurfa unbelievers.
Kala Impi is a young girl on Pandora 3 who first rebels against the strict misogynistic religious laws, then seeks to escape.
Tefal Wejer, the Karacher warlord, plans an audacious attack to destroy Terra 3, the seat of power, and take over the System.
Kala Impi, a young girl, is all that stands between the Karacher’s reign of terror and the survival of the System.
The Scrolls of Pandora 3 is a stand-alone sequel to Terra 3 – The Cabal.
DremeWorld – a megalomaniacal businessman and his corrupt business empire – It was the year 3945 of the System. Humanity has spread out through 387,000 planets and totals in excess of 1.17 trillion people.
The early Core planets are densely populated with people living in tiny doms in multi-layered tiers. The Rim worlds provide the basic goods to maintain them.
President Degasse is attempting to introduce a development scheme to improve the quality of life for all the System’s citizens.
Turvi Das and Agra Tinpish are the populist politicians attempting to overthrow Degasse.
Gus Dreme is a business man for whom all that matters is the bottom line. He plans to run the entire System.
Annoia Lasse is Dreme’s fixer.
Hemid Cred is an IT nerd who invents a code for quantum subliminal messaging.
With Hemid and Annoia’s help, Dreme sees a way to take over the entire System.
A Message from Hermes – In the year 3333 the human race is spread across the solar system.
Three trillion people are densely packed in tiny doms arranged in tiers. Exploited and kept docile with intoxicating stim and trivial tridee programs.
Those at the bottom live in poverty while up in the skies soaring above in their luxurious floating mansions the wealthy elite live in luxury.
They are ruled over by a corrupt, hedonistic president.
A populist wannabe is angling to depose her.
A mechanism to time travel and record the past is threatening to reveal the truth behind the scenes. Nothing can ever be private again.
When an alien craft with immense powers arrives, offering a brighter future, it is met with suspicion and violence.
The system splits into two camps. The populist stokes fear and offers a protective shield. The President has an epiphany and buys into the alien dream.
A humble delivery man holds the key to the future.
Ghenghis Smith – Ghenghis Smith is depressed about his life. Deep down in the layers of Terra 3 he is alone in his tiny dom. His servo feeds him textured sludge. His tridee is punctuates with adverts at crucial moments in the game. His head is full of adverts, cajoling voices and medical restrictions. He hunts for ancient artefacts to make his fortune and escape his miserable existence. He longs for a meaningful existence. Then he meets Cassie. She’s a scavvy. They uncover a stash of ancient goods which leads to a game of life and death.
My atheistic book The Antitheist’s Bible is now available on Amazon:
We’d all come back from a walk through England’s glorious countryside, over the green, rolling hills of the Southern Downs, trailing along a river bank swathed in a mass of wild flowers through which the butterflies danced, and bees busily droned from blossom to blossom. We’d wandered lazily through a hot morning with the sun scorching our faces under unremitting blue sky – four old friends together.
Nothing could be more delightful than the perfect English summer day when it happened. You could not count on it to happen too often in such an unpredictable climate. We’d found a picnic bench outside a pub overlooking the old weathered rock walls of a mediaeval castle and basked in the weather and company, swigging a cool beer, idly talking, laughing lots and picking at a pub meal.
Throughout the entire walk we’d been catching up on news, reminiscing and sharing views. That’s what old friends did. I’d outlined my thoughts on my book. Writing was one of my passions. It infuriated Liz. She saw it as one of my obsessions. Something else I wasted endless hours on. She despaired over the way I could not relax and live in the moment. Even on a beautiful day, walking through the most beautiful scenery, my mind was flitting through the interior of my head while the world slipped by. I only had to have an audience, and I could not help but let fly, and allow all that storm of pent-up ideas to gush out. Kathy and Tobes had made the mistake of appearing to listen. It seemed to me that they liked the idea but saw nothing original about it. In their view it had been done to death. Nobody would be interested. But it had caught their imagination to an extent, more than most of my fanciful literary concoctions.
Kathy and I were sitting in the front room, on the floor, our backs against the sofa, a glass of merlot in one hand. We were passing a spliff back and forth, contemplating infinity and arguing about religion. Standard practice for a Sunday afternoon.
‘So what would you say to some evangelical redneck who believed the world was formed by god only four thousand years ago?’ She peered at me with a cheeky, quizzical look, daring me to rise to it. ‘You know, Oph, some brainwashed American, brought up in the Deep South who was taught that every word of the bible was the absolute word of god, huh Oph?’
I chuckled. Kathy was wearing her most innocent expression, challenging me to put my mouth where my words were. As a self-confessed atheist it was a justifiable question to put, a typical Kathy question. Would I dare to answer back, to argue with a big rowdy devout evangelist, or would I simply keep my head down? I didn’t know. I guess it depended on his size and belligerence.
Kathy enjoyed provoking. She spent time trawling YouTube for the little extracts by Chomsky, Hitchins and the like. She loved their sharp wit, expert put-downs and the brilliance of their intellect. Compared to such exalted company it was no wonder that Kathy was sceptical about the extent of my knowledge and ability to put together a coherent argument. But, after all, I’d asked for it. Over the course of the day I’d been discussing my idea of writing an antitheist’s bible, and yes, perhaps pontificating about my frustration with religion.
Through this phase of my life I’d become increasingly angered by the extent that organised religion intruded into the world and dictated what went on. I was dismayed by the malleability of ordinary people, even the more intelligent. They all seemed so gullible. The world was full of religious absurdities. There were people with strange hanks of hair, strange hats, strange gowns, strange accoutrements, bizarre hairstyles, weird practices, obscene veils, and the full range of idiosyncratic genuflections and intricate daily routines. All of which, as diverse from each other as they were, were considered to be dictated directly by the word of god. They couldn’t all be right could they? Even a fool could see that.
Yet all the adherents were vehemently adamant that they were the one and only true chosen people who god chose to speak to and that the others were intolerable blasphemers who deserved death and torture for not recognising this fact.
It did not take huge intellect to see these absurdities for what they were. The sight of these extreme religious behaviours would be hugely funny if it wasn’t for the fact that all these religious groups seemed intent on imposing these ridiculous dogmas on everyone else and were prepared to bomb, torture and destroy everything to achieve this end. The waves of terrorism, jihad and retaliatory wars were horrendous, utterly horrendous – all directly or indirectly due to religion.
Behind this practice of ordinary believers was the power struggle of the manipulators; the leaders that used the institutions to feather their own nests and achieve their own agendas. The history of religion, right up to the present day, was strewn with examples of power-mad tyrants using religion to achieve their ends. I railed against it. I thought of myself as a tolerant person but, there again.
A controversial, blasphemous novel full of sacrilege and irreverence, laced with pathos and humour. One man struggles with the death of his mother, retirement from a career he loves and a desire to do something with the remainder of his life. He moves towards retirement while wrestling with the hypocrisy of religion, its power and wealth. He wants to expose the rotten heart of manmade religion.
Jihads, Crusades, Evangelists, ISIS, Religious Fanatics, Brainwashing, Pogroms, the Holocaust, Burqas, Torture, Heretics, Inquisitions, Witch-Hunts, Misogyny, Daft Costumes, Rules and Dogma, Terrorism, Life After Death, Heaven, Hell, Satan, Fear, Bibles, Torah, Koran, Persecution, Anti-Semitism, the Taliban, Control and Intrigue – that’s the religion we have created. He’s sick of it.
He wants to write, to travel and read; to live. In his eyes the world is full of wonder and awe. He sees a huge difference between religion and spirituality.
The first book he will write will be an expose of the power-struggle, brainwashing and greed that is organised religion. It will be called The Antitheist’s Bible.
This is that story.
I was unhappy with this novel so I reinvented it with the help of my good friends Kathy and Tobes.
I am a man who is soaked in awe and wonder, who sees beauty and mystery in the whole universe, but who remains incredibly skeptical of ALL religion. I see religion on a par with politics – a power game.
Religion for me is a throwback to our primitive past. All religions reflect the cultures from which they emanate. They are steeped in misogyny, tribalism and hate. They reinforce division and prejudice. I despise them all.
The concept for this novel was to have my character aiming to write a scurrilous book revealing all the dark power games, control, brainwashing, intrigue and hypocrisy that lies behind all religions.
There is a strong biographical element to it as my character weaves in death, the end of a career and the vagaries of life into the story. It’s fast-paced and blasphemous. But it needs telling.
All the characters are straight out of my imagination (even when based on real people). Nothing is real.
Why not dip in and prepare to be shocked? This is the antidote to religion – THE ANTI-THEIST’S BIBLE!
The Antitheist’s Bible
I wrote this novel a number of years back. I wanted to explore the stupidities of religion, it’s use as power to contain and quell, its use of fear and division. Religion does have good aspects but, in my opinion, has been an overriding force for evil. I used a novel to explore this.
Later that week we had friends round. Kathy and Tobes came to stay for a few days. It was good, they were old friends who went back to the heady days of poverty and rebellion. We’d met them in London back when we’d both had our first babies.
They had come to London to escape Apartheid in South Africa and make their way in a place of equality and freedom, such as it was. This was the refuge.
Liz and I had helped move them into the bedsit below where we lived. We’d shared meals, ideas and much laughter. We’d all laughingly carried Kathy and Tobe’s mattress from the old place to new through the crowded streets of Manor Road. Our kids had grown up together.
It was one of those friendships that lasted through the years even though Kathy and Tobes had moved back to Africa and Liz and I had moved up North.
We got together when we could.
We’d eaten and I’d taken Tobes off to my room to listen to a bit of Blues. As Howlin’ Wolf boomed around the room we talked, aimlessly at first but focusing in on the issues that were bouncing around my head.
‘So Tobes, I start this lesson talking about racism, and this kid just comes out with this stuff.’
‘What stuff?’ Tobes asked in his big soft voice. He was a big man who gave the impression of quiet reflective intelligence. His eyes always danced with laughter, full of sparkling creatures. ‘I didn’t know you were still teaching. Thought you were the big boss man, giving out orders and having everyone running around after you.’
‘Yeah, right. Chance would be a fine thing,’ I muttered. ‘Well, anyway, this kid was saying that he thinks religion is the cause of all hatred and war and that it should be banned.’
‘So what did you say?’ Tobes chuckled, punching me playfully on the arm. ‘Did you agree with him and give him a house-point for perceptiveness.’
‘I think you would find that house-points are a bit sparse on the ground in the modern education system’ I replied. ‘At least in my place.’ I punched him back. ‘No, I was a bit gobsmacked really. You know, I agreed with him but I couldn’t come out and say that, could I? It’s hard promoting tolerance and keeping your views out of things. I have to be neutral.’
‘Yeah. Bloody impossible for someone like you, I would imagine,’ Tobes said grinning his head off. ‘So how did you deal with it?’
‘Hey! I believe in freedom and tolerance you know!’ I protested. ‘Anyway, I could see that there was a few heads turned, waiting, you know; the Christian militia,’ I explained nodding in reflection. ‘And there were also some up for a debate. It could have developed into something tasty.’
‘Usually does,’ Tobes observed. ‘Especially when the Christian militia get involved.’
‘The thing is that I could see his point,’ I continued. ‘There’s a lot of stuff that I could have got going but that’s not what it’s about. If you’re looking to get out of the violent aggressive rut you can’t throw petrol on the flames. Besides they are young impressionable kids. You can’t get involved in indoctrination.’
‘Never stopped my teachers when I was young and impressionable,’ Tobes remarked, reflecting on my education in religious schools. ‘And not like you to avoid conflict.’
‘I don’t mind conflict,’ I replied grumpily, ‘I enjoy it. But there’s a time and place.’
‘But if you want to change the future you have to engage people in thinking about issues,’ Tobes remarked.
‘Yeah, yeah,’ I agreed. ‘But I think he was just trying to be a bit confrontational.’
Tobes nodded and smiled. He was winding me up.
‘I said to the guy that it wasn’t religion to blame,’ I continued. ‘Religion should be a personal faith; it was people being bigoted and trying to force their views on others. That it wasn’t religion that was the only cause of conflict and war. What about culture, race, nationality, politics?? It seemed to be something inherent in human beings. We are a violent species. We are incredibly primitive and tribal; that even when there are no tribes to belong to, we make them up. I went on about football teams, post code gangs. We make conflict.’
‘Did he buy it?’ Tobes asked.
‘Yeah, he lost interest and all the hackles went down,’ I explained. I frowned. The encounter had left me unhappy. ‘You know, I think I handled it wrongly,’ I explained. ‘I should have engaged a bit more, allowed him to develop his opinion. Created a real debate. Because, I think he was right; religion is to blame for far too much, and, you know, perhaps I was too influenced by that religious group of kids, what they thought and the repercussions that could have come out of it.’
Tobes considered that. Then he looked me in the eye. ‘Yes, but in your position you couldn’t do that, could you? You have to be impartial.’
I met his eyes. ‘But was I leaning too far the other way?’
-*-
‘How’s that Antitheist’s Bible going?’ Kathy asked. ‘Are you calling it The Latest Testament? Portraying yourself as another prophet? As a new Jesus? Maybe that second coming?’
I considered that for a moment or two. I had been jotting things down about my life and my distaste for the power and control that religions exerted. Was this going to become the book? I chuckled. ‘Well, I have learnt to walk on water,’ I assured her.
‘Really?’
‘I just have to wait for it to get cold enough,’ I explained in a deadpan voice.
A short extract from my novel – The Antitheist’s Bible – a novel who’s central theme is about the absurdities of religion and how it has been used to control people and gain power.
‘So what do you think the world’d be like without religion, Oph?’ Kathy demanded, draining her glass and topping it up, passing me the spliff.
That was an interesting question. I wanted to say straight off how much better it would be but there was more to it than that. Phew. The more I pondered that the more the implications were enormous.
‘I dunno Kathy,’ I mused, frowning and pulling on the spliff. ‘It’d be a lot different. Just think – if we didn’t have all that energy put into building all those churches, temples and cathedrals; if everyone hadn’t wasted all that time and energy in pointless ceremonies and prayer; if we hadn’t been held back for thousands of years with all that superstition.’ I was warming to it. My imagination was already extrapolating out the possibilities, all the better uses those energies could be put to —– ‘If all that energy was put into more positive things!!’
‘Yeah but Oph,’ Kathy retorted rather aggressively, reaching across for the spliff, ‘those temples are beautiful, and the music and art. Wouldn’t the world be a dreary place without it?’
I grinned at her. Kathy playing her usual role of devil’s advocate. I wasn’t falling for that. But then again it was true. There were many great things that had come out of religion and many religious people would point to the sense of community and togetherness that religion produced, but I wasn’t about to acknowledge any of that. My beef was with the power structure.
I gurned at her. ‘Yeah, shame about the butchery, intolerance and torture’ I mused, raising my eyebrows. ‘Shame that so many were flayed alive and burnt to death in agony,’ I nodded my head and pursed my lips, warming to the task. ‘It’s a shame about 9.11, the bombings and misogyny. Shame about the cultural castration and the enslavement of women, all those women locked up in burqas.’ I could tell from her eyes that I was doing what she had wanted me to do – she had succeeded in getting me going. ‘Apart from that…… and all the bollocks about heaven, paradise ……….. and the hypocrisy …………. and the ridiculous contradictions, homophobia, intolerance ……….’ I was floundering around for all the many facets that had so infuriated me as Kathy smiled encouragingly, judgmentally apart, drawing on the spliff and studying my agitation. ‘And the way they all have their little stories that they hold to be gospel,’ I was now having to prevent myself from prodding a finger in her direction, ‘while denouncing everyone else’s versions as fabricated nonsense …….’ I was getting into my stride, placing the glass down on the floor so I didn’t spill it, waving my hands around. ‘You know, the way they claim to be the chosen people who are favoured by God and that all others, the heathen non-believers, are to be cast into the fiery pits forever……….. and the intrinsic stupidities of replacing the unfathomable reason for life with an equally unknown substitute, some magically manifest supernaturally powerful being………’ I couldn’t help myself. I was becoming more and more animated. ‘After all – where did this all-powerful god come from? …………… and what was the purpose of this eternal life? ……. Religion has no answers. They just tell you to believe. Bollocks. None of it makes sense.’
‘Ah come on Oph,’ she said insincerely, smiling sweetly, cutting me short, feigning an American accent. ‘You know god moves in mysterious ways. It is not our place to understand the working of god’s mind.’
I shook my head at her in a theatrical show of despair. She grinned back at me obviously warming to her task. ‘Besides, You’ve got to admit that the world would be a lot drabber without all those costumes and customs? If religion hadn’t determined things then the State would have done. There would have been bigger wars, bigger castles and more powerful warlords. Ordinary people might be in an even worse state.’
There was nothing I liked better than to argue on matters such as this. It got my grey cells buzzing, forced me to examine my own views and crystallize them. Religion was one of my pet themes and she knew it. It was also one of hers.
‘Or we might be living in a more liberated world where the enlightenment took place thousands of years earlier and everything was fairer and more advanced,’ I suggested, tilting my head to the side.
‘So you don’t believe that morality and ethics originate in religion?’ She poured herself another glassful and sipped trying to look quizzical and earnest. I laughed out loud. From my standpoint she’d only succeeded in looking comical. I knew she didn’t believe what she was suggesting.
I chuckled some more. ‘No, No Kathy, no I don’t. I think fairness, morality and ethics are basic human attributes.’ I frowned and took a big gulp of what was a cheapish red shiraz that had proved surprisingly smooth, then topped up my glass before replying. ‘I think that religion’s got fuck all to do with it. Religion is just about power. That and the State. All about power. It’s all primitive stuff. All the boys vying to be the great chief or shaman; white-backed gorillas. They are just seeking dominance and the right to fuck all the women. It’s all about DNA playing its games to get its genes into the next gene pool.’
‘But Oph,’ Kathy objected keenly, stubbing the dead roach in the ashtray. ‘Every culture has its creation myths and code of morality. They all regulate society and bring some order to it. Perhaps people need that? Perhaps religion helps produce that?’ Kathy continued her ploy. She was enjoying it just as much as I was.
‘Yeah, and they all create a pile of complicated dogma and use it to bash each other with, to shackle themselves,’ I began rolling another jay.
‘But there is order and there are restraints,’ she argued forcefully, ‘religion has restricted the power of the state, hasn’t it? It has helped produce order and structure.’
The Antitheist’s Bible: Amazon.co.uk: Goodwin, Opher: 9798391555216: Books
Acolyte
These are the people who are not strong enough to stand on their own. They are easily led. An acolyte is someone who lights the candles or participates in the services – an active follower of a religion. They like obeying rules and doing what they are told. Usually lacking in imagination or critical analysis they take everything at face value. If it’s written down and Abraham says it happened it must be true.
All despots love acolytes. They are very handy.
Adam & Eve
According to the mythology that is religion Adam was the first man. He was made by the great supernatural, all knowing, eternal fairy, out of dust.
Eve was an after-thought and was made out of Adam’s rib when the fairy realised that Adam might be lonely. The fairy hadn’t thought it all through to start with, had he? So much for all-knowing.
The pair of his new creations were plonked in a perfect garden and told not to eat the fruit of knowledge. Of course, the fairy had previously created all manner of plants and animals (equipped with sex organs and mating rituals) for Adam and Eve to eat and play about with.
Eve was tricked by a serpent (what was that serpent’s function?) into eating the fruit and persuaded Adam to eat it, too (henceforth, used as justification for reviling all women as evil temptresses who must be hidden away in shapeless gowns). They lost their innocence and were kicked out of the garden by god.
So what can we learn from this?
It is quite incredible how far-reaching a primitive creation myth can be. The misogyny of those primitive pre-Abrahamic cultures resounds down the ages. It contributes to the whole disgusting business of female genital mutilation and whole cultures putting their women in sacks and treating them like dogs.
After-life
It’s the same as before life. Somehow the universe got on without me for 13.77 billion years, give or take a minute or so. I’m sure that it will manage without me for a few billion more.
It will be a great shame not to be able to open my eyes on to all this awesome beauty.
Best appreciate it while we can. It only lasts a short while and then it’s gone.
Nothing gold can last!
So, I will not be meeting up with my dead friends and relatives. I will not be coming back as an earwig. I will not have beautiful handmaidens dropping grapes in my mouth by the side of nice cool fountains. I will not be singing in any ethereal choirs.
The idea of an after-life was made up by people long ago because they couldn’t imagine themselves not existing anymore.
I can. But then I can’t. As a conscious human being I find it quite hard to believe that this life is all pointless, that it is an exceedingly wonderful accident of chemistry, and that one day soon I will cease to exist. Surely I’m much too important for that to be the case?
Instead of waking up with a bevy of virgins my brain will cease firing electricity down neurones. My consciousness will dissolve. I will be unaware as the bacteria and worms dissolve my flesh. I won’t care at all.
There will be no tunnels of light, choirs of angels, gates and cherubs, no men in long robes. No ice cream. No music. No sex (no wonder puritans like the idea).
I will no longer be aware of anything. Nothing will exist for me. The universe will slowly run down due to natural entropy and I won’t be around to see it. That’s a shame.
No amount of wishful thinking will make it any different. We’d best grow up and get on with it.
There is no wondrous purpose or anthropomorphised vision of paradise and heaven; we die.
After life there is merely rotting and oblivion.
Never mind.
But wasn’t all that stuff about eternal ecstasy (or grotesque torture for the bad guys), meeting up with loved ones and living forever so reassuring and great. Shame that the bad guys took it over and used it as a power tool to get people to conform and put up with lousy conditions (they’ll be pie and ice-cream in the sky), to fight and blow themselves up in the certain knowledge of eternal life – oh, and no hanky panky (except for them) got it?
Age of Enlightenment/Age of Reason
The Death of Theocracy.
A lot was at stake and far fewer were burnt at stake.
This is simply the most important thing that has ever happened. It began as a philosophical movement in the mid eighteenth century, gathered pace and has changed the whole cultural landscape of the Western World for the better.
The premise for the Age of Reason/Enlightenment was to challenge ideas based on tradition or religion and move to a system based on reason and scientific method. This inevitably took religion out of controlling people and introduced the present secular states where tyrants, despots and conmen were free to either directly set up rigged systems or pervert democracy in order to gain power.
A great improvement. Well, at least people were no longer publically beheaded or buried up to their shoulders and pelted with rocks for blasphemy.
People could at last ask to see photographic evidence of tablets being passed down, burning bushes or audio recordings of conversations with supernatural forces in caves or up on mountain tops without fear of torture.
As soon as religion was taken out of the equation we experienced rapid progress. Science ruled. In contrast those cultures still ruled by religious superstition continued to stagnate.
I do not make the case that everything is hunky-dory. That is far from the case. In many ways the Age of Enlightenment heralded all sorts of moral and social problems that we are still battling to address today. It has unleashed a chaotic state. This needs addressing. Religion gave people structure and purpose even if that was madness and stupidity. Freedom from religion has left many people directionless and aimless with only hedonism to fall back on. I’ve nothing against hedonism but ultimately it is vacuous. What is necessary is for the State to provide purpose and impetus before the fanatics of religion rise up to fill that hole. Nature and creativity are good for that.
Without religion there is still plenty to marvel and wonder at. Life can be full and satisfying.
Politicians have so far not been particularly inspiring in this direction. They had better get their act together. The alternative could be religious oppression and back to the scourge of misogynistic conservatism stifling thought and expression – the thought of that is dire.
However the writers, artists, poets, dancers, musicians and other creative folk have been doing a great job in making life worthwhile and filling the hole religion used to occupy. Long may they continue!
Agnostic
An agnostic is someone who has realised that the whole concept of god and religion is utter bollocks but is still psychologically unable to completely overthrow their childhood, and cultural, indoctrination. They still hope against hope that, despite all common sense, there just might be a god.
They are wishful thinkers who want to hedge their bests.
They have got over the fact that Father Christmas, the Tooth Fairy and Pixies do not really exist. They have, despite a residual liking of Tolkien, also accepted that Goblins, Hobbits, Orcs and Dragons are fanciful creations of human imagination.
They none the less are a little open to ghost stories and a yearning for a possible purpose to their life and the comfort of an after-life. They sort of believe that magic might be real. They doubt that there is a heaven and are not prepared to fly planes into buildings, strap on bombs or fight for Jesus, in the hope of waking up in eternal bliss or endless sex with twenty-four virgins, but they are hopeful.
They’re a bit weak and sad really.
Perhaps they’ll make their mind up one day?
Alchemy
This is the search for the Philosopher’s stone that can turn base metal into gold and the hunt for the elixir of life that will give you everlasting life (there’s quite a few politicians and businessmen/women that I hope don’t get their hands on this.).
I’m not sure I’d appreciate everlasting life. Just imagine sitting on the planet when the sun expands into a red giant and envelops us. That might not be too pleasant. I doubt you’d live through even if you had the elixir.
I’m not sure I’d want to be there billions of years in the future when the universe is running down to darkness with just hydrogen and heat dissipated to next to nothing. You’d be left sitting around in the frigid darkness with no ice-cream parlours, gigs, books or cinemas. That’d be boring.
I bet even sex gets tedious after the first billion years.
Now we know about atoms I’m sure at some time we’ll be able to manipulate them to create different elements. It won’t be alchemy. It will be science.
But then science came out of alchemy.
It is another fanciful dream. It even beguiled as good a mind as Newton’s. Just goes to show how gullible we are.
I wouldn’t mind living fit and healthy for a few hundred years. That’d give me time to fit everything in. But that’s it. I think I would have had enough. Science will solve that and give us a span of a few hundred years to look forward to, if the religious nutters don’t wipe us out first.
As for alchemy, well – it is just another red herring in the litany of wishful thinking.
Aleister Crowley
Aleister Crowley was an occultist who also went under the names of Frater Perdurabo and The Great Beast 666. He was the founding father of Thelemite philosophy and at one time was described by the Press as ‘The wickedest man in the world’.
I think Vlad the Impaler, who liked shoving people down on big spikes that stuck up their anus, or Pol Pot, Hitler or even Stalin and Mao, might have something to say about that. Compared to them Crowley was a pussy cat. He merely spouted a lot of mumbo-jumbo and scared the shit out of the religious minded people who do not like other people’s mumbo-jumbo.
Aleister was born in 1875 and rebelled against the current stodgy religious thinking. He was a showman who did a lot of stuff to shock the bourgeoisie but came to see himself as a prophet who was ushering in the new Aeon of Horus. Perhaps it was his drug taking that put them off him? He was a libertine and his motto was ‘Do what thou wilt’. He would have been happier living in the 1960s.
He was largely seen as a promoter of witchcraft and the study of the black arts. Any allusion to the old pagan British and European religions was thought wicked. That’s due to centuries of persecution and terror driven propaganda put out by the prevailing christian church. Aleister was probably attracted to the naughty sacrilegious overtones and the effect it had on the religious believers. It also attracted in a host of nubile acolytes who probably made his days (and nights) quite similar to the muslims view of the after-life. Like Charlie Manson he had a great time.
Aleister loved the power and notoriety it gave him. He may even have deluded himself into believing it. Obviously not everyone gets it right. We are all the product of our time and place.
Antitheist’s Dictionary: Amazon.co.uk: Goodwin, Opher: 9781500821142: Books
