Do you believe that Religion is a negative force?

Posted on by Opher

Are you opposed to brainwashing kids?

Do you believe that religion has held back development?

Do you think that religion is misogynistic?

Do you believe atheists can be as moral as believers?

Do you believe in an interventionist god?

Do you think all religions were created by people?

What do you think about the thousands of religions that have died out?

How many gods have there been?

Is there a difference between religion and spirituality?

You might find these books interesting:

Antitheist’s Dictionary: Amazon.co.uk: Goodwin, Opher: 9798389994171: Books

This book consists of definitions of religious words interpreted by a cynical antitheist. While hilarious it is sacrilegious, offensive and controversial. If you are religious and easily offended then I suggest you steer well clear. If you are not religious (or are of a less sensitive nature to your more serious religious colleagues) then dip in and have a laugh along with me. However, I should warn you; I have serious intent as well. I view religion as a social menace that should be kept clear of children, schools and the State. I believe history has shown religion to be a major source of evil worldwide. I believe it creates war, misogyny, torture, hypocrisy, exploitation, bigotry and hatred. There is little good that ever comes out of it. I hope all religion withers away naturally. Until then I respect your right to believe in whatever brand of superstition you wish – just as long as you do not try to force it on anyone else!

The Antitheist’s Bible: Amazon.co.uk: Goodwin, Opher: 9798391606536: Books

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.

The Book of Ginny: Amazon.co.uk: Goodwin, Opher: 9781500890742: Books

WARNING – Sexually Explicit and Religiously Dangerous! This book is a sexually explicit expose of religion. If you are easily offended by sex or hold strong religious views I suggest you read no further. Ginny was a young party girl with a close group of friends. Life was good. She had a job she enjoyed and her world was fun. There was the round of parties, clubs, dancing, drugs and sex that provided the spice. Apart from one or two ‘aggravations’ such as getting herself prosecuted for shoplifting life was pretty sorted. Then came the voices and life would never be the same. She had been chosen and instructed to spread the word. Ginny put the world of sex, drugs and dancing behind her and embarked upon the task of delivering the new gospel to the world. At first it seemed to go so well but then she discovered that there were many with vested interests who were not so enamoured with any new revelations. They had a battle on their hands.

The Teachings of White Eagle: Amazon.co.uk: Forsyth, Lewis Fraser, Goodwin, Opher: 9781790978670: Books

As I understand it, White Eagle was a Native North American Chief who specialised in healing and led a spirit team of healers, including Uncas. He had ‘passed over’ to the spirit world hundreds of years before. He was one of a number of benevolent spirits who worked through my Grandfather. He is quite a renowned spirit teacher and healer. There is an active White Eagle Lodge with branches in the UK, Ireland and worldwide. I presume this is the same White Eagle that my Grandfather ‘worked’ with.

These are the teaching of White Eagle as dictated from the spirit world through my grandfather Lewis Fraser Forsyth.

An extract from the novel – The Antitheist’s Bible

Posted on by Opher

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?’

The Antitheist’s Bible – Extract 4 (a dissection of religion)

Posted on by Opher

‘Aah, Kathy – another construct from our distant past. The personification of evil,’ I called after her as she disappeared through the door. ‘I think we can do without that one as well. Surely we must realise by now that the universe is immense and we’re nowhere near the centre of it! The Devil is just another control mechanism.’ I followed her into the dining room to join Liz and Tobes at the table, bringing the bottle with me. I plonked it down next to the one Liz and Tobes had opened.

‘So what is going to be the basis of this book of yours?’ Kathy asked disparagingly, seating herself and looking across at me. ‘What are you going to put in it?’

‘I’m going to tell the real stories,’ I said firmly. ‘I’m going to pull religion apart and dissect it, tell it like it is.’

‘Enough,’ said Liz, scowling at me. ‘I can see what you two have been up to.’ She took the Jay off Kathy, took a small puff and passed it to Tobes. ‘Let’s talk about something else.’

‘I am going to write the Antitheist’s Bible,’ I assured Kathy.

1.

It was a time of change. I could smell it in the air.

I stood out on the balcony of my office like some patriarch surveying my land. That was how I felt. Below me the boys were out at lunch playing football on the field or gathering in small groups. It was hot; one of those rare July days when everything conspired to create the perfect English Summer day. There had not been a lot of them so far this year. The grass was still vivid green and the trees shimmered against a deep blue sky in which the billowy white clouds only served to punctuate the welcome heat and emphasize the swathes of blue.

I had all the windows open to allow the breeze through. It made the temperature extremely agreeable. I liked summer. I always thought that our ancestors were nuts to have left Africa. The papers rustled on my desk. Voices drifted up from the boys below. It was orderly and pleasant. In the distance, through the trees, the old church was bathed in sunlight. Idyllic. Everything felt right with the world.

My gaze wandered over to the common land beyond the fence. There were little signs of the modern world intruding, no evidence of the town. We might all be marooned in time. I watched the boys as they played so intently. They were so alive. They would grow and leave here but they would always take some of it with them just as part of all of them remained here in this place. We all shaped our surroundings. We influenced what was to come after.

This was my legacy. I had built this. I knew that it wasn’t and I hadn’t; not really. There was no one man or group of men who could claim as much. To an extent we are products of our day and age. This school would have existed without me and would go on existing after I’d gone. I was just passing through. I’d made a mark, a mark that would soon fade away.

Behind me Channel four reached the news bulletin. Another bomb had gone off in Iraq killing 50. The fools were killing each other over the interpretation of some mediaeval text. Sunni against Shia just as it had been Catholic against Protestant, Hindu against Muslim. I felt a wave of anger surge through me. We just had to mess it up, didn’t we? What the world needed was the power of education.

Yet, for all the madness out there, this place was like a bubble of sanity. For thirty five years I had striven to infuse tolerance, respect and empathy. I had fought for responsible actions and promoted fairness and justice. I had championed equality. It had been my life’s work. In my view the world had to grow more sane and intelligent to have a future. We were approaching a global population of seven billion people. We had technologies that could unleash nuclear missiles, fearsomely vicious chemicals or biological death. It was my belief that we either grew up and solved problems with intelligence or died in ignorance and superstition. It looked to me as if ignorance and superstition were winning.

Below me, on that field, were the young men who I knew also believed in fairness and justice. I knew that because we’d often argued it through in class. They filled me with optimism. They were the new world. They were also the proof that my philosophy could work. They were free, happy and full of vitality. They were a vindication. For thirty five years I had fought to instil my ideals into this place and here it was in operation.

On this summer day it felt like the perfect culmination of all that effort. This was a scene of harmony and happiness.

Yet this was the time of change. I could feel it. My deputy was champing at the bit, eager to take over. I had become old but there were still many things that I wanted to do and so little time. There was a life outside of this. I looked out over that peaceful scene stretched out below me and knew that I would have to leave it to run its course. I had steered it as far as I could and had to be satisfied. It was time to move on.

Yet I was reluctant to let go. There was still work to do.

This was so satisfying. It was hard to leave it behind not quite finished. But then it could never be finished, could it? But I knew that it would change and it would no longer be mine.

Yet change was coming. I could sense it; and I had a feeling that it wasn’t going to be just to do with work.

I looked at the clock. Lunchtime. Time for soup.

The Antitheist’s Bible – A novel – Extract from the beginning.

Posted on by Opher

Prologue

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 wildflowers 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 an 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 this 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, to 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 fayre for a Sunday afternoon.

‘So what would you say to some evangelical redneck who believed the world was formed by god 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?’

Now available as paperback, hardback and digital kindle:

The Antitheist’s Bible – another short extract (don’t buy it yet – I’m rewriting it! – It’ll be out soon in new improved format)

Posted on by Opher

I am presently rewriting the Antitheist’s Bible (a novel that is anti all organised religion). Enjoying it.

Here’s a little extract:

Some say that life is a journey into the mysterious unknown. I’m not so sure about that. My observations lead me to believe we are creatures of habit. It takes dynamite to get most of us out of our comfort zones and the rut we have worn into our existence. Mystery and the unknown rarely come into the equation.

The trouble is that for most of us life has a habit of getting in the way of our plans. Life goes by. We happily slip into routines. Every day the sun comes up, the alarm rings, we get up and go through more of the same. We know what pattern the day takes. We know what is going to happen next week and the week after. We have our watches, diaries and calendars to plan the future. We watch the wonderful programs in which physicists prove that the universe is not how it appears, matter is not solid, space and time are bent, we are but holograms, while psychologists demonstrate that our perception and memories are a million miles from reality. We are enthralled. Yet the sun still comes up and each day is the same as the next.

But then it changes.

We are confronted with a different reality. A close friend dies, you lose your job, you move house, you become ill, there is a fire, a burglary; it could be a number of things. Life changes. Some changes are minor, some temporary. We are thrown and have to adjust.

The amazing thing is not that we are so thrown by things but how quickly we adjust to the new situation and build in our new routine.

We are creatures of habit. We search for new patterns. That’s what we are programmed to do; we search out the patterns; we hunt for the relationships. It is hard-wired into our brains. It is the product of evolution. It is the very reason we are so successful. Our ancestors survived because of how they found the patterns and relationships; were able to determine the seasons and migrations, the habits of predators and prey. That is what they have bequeathed to us.

Yet within that gift lies our Achilles heel.