Atheist’s Wager – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atheist’s_Wager

The Atheist’s Wager is the atheistic equivalent of Pascal’s Wager. While Pascal suggested that it is better to take the chance of believing in a god that might not exist rather than to risk offending a god that does, the Atheist’s Wager counters that:

It is better to live your life as if there are no gods, and try to make the world a better place for your being in it. If there is no god, you have lost nothing and will be remembered fondly by those you left behind. If there is a benevolent god, he will judge you on your merits and not just on whether or not you believed in him.

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There is no need for temples, no need for complicated philosophy.
Our own brain, our own heart is our temple: the philosophy is kindness.
~The Dalai Lama [via www.lwrightnm.com]

A friend observed recently that I’m running on auto-pilot. I admit it: I’m on hold. I’m not in a funk; I don’t have ennui; I’m not even in a mood. I might say I’m on Winter Break, but it is more of a pregnant pause — more libros interruptus than anti-climax — the wait before I finally hold in my hands that bundle of joy I carried many months. Soon, the day will arrive and I will embrace my child, wishing I could forever delay the inevitable disappointment that follows, seeing its flaws and having to realize those are my flaws made undeniable.

In yoga class yesterday, as we all assumed half boat pose, the building shook with a low-pitched rumble. It was as if we had synchronized with some larger energy or, like an array of antennas, we had picked up the earth’s deep moan. The prosaic reality that it was a bulldozer did nothing to diminish the excitement we all felt. Consciousness lives in twilight. Awareness is a switch.

Is it any wonder then, that my thoughts have turned away from birth to my death. I wonder what place is most fitting for my memorial service? Understand, I think such services are for the living, not the deceased, and I’m confident my interest in everything expires with my last breath. So, I don’t wish to dictate from beyond the grave what people should do to bid me farewell. If someone wants to hold a Catholic Mass in Latin or sit shiva, so be it. At the very least, that would honor my sense of irony.

This is a silly exercise in so far as one could gather all of my friends in one room and no one would have to wait for the bathroom. But, you never really know who might turn out for the final show. We all connect in ways we fail to recognize. The big social events — birthdays, weddings and funerals — remind us of those connections. Though funerals are the only celebration the guest of honor misses. “Nice to see you, thanks for coming.” Which leads me to wonder if UNM Continuing Education does funerals. They certainly have rooms of various sizes to accommodate a small clutch of friends or an unexpected outpouring.

Of course, the obvious place to review my life and passing is outside. Although I’ve spent most of my life inside and have many glorious memories indoors, I’ve seldom felt more alive — more connected — than outside, on a trail, in a clearing, by a stream. I know several people who are out there much more so than I am, people who connect to deeper wilderness for longer expeditions. I am lazy and sometimes fearful, but I am sustained by vistas and completed by walking in the wild.

I’m so lucky I don’t have to go far for this sensation. I feel it watching a flicker bathe in a gutter. It’s in me among the cosmos and morning glories. It’s on my doorstep and everywhere I look when I really look.

Last night, I stopped to watch clouds stream from south to north. They formed a patchwork of bright white alternating with deep blue. They rushed over me like time-lapse photography or someone pulling gauze over my head. It was beautiful, though it made me regret being alone except for the dog, who puts sniffing and licking way ahead of seeing. The earth is in constant motion, seen and unseen. Enjoy the brief ride. mjh

Atheist Chic – Los Angeles Times by Dan Neil

The revenge of the godless nerds is well underway at your local Barnes & Noble. … [It is what] Wired magazine last month called the “new atheism”—I prefer to think of it as “atheist chic” ….

Despite the recent gains among free thinkers, atheism is still hugely unpopular. … There are few publicly confessed atheists—the illusionists/debunkers Penn and Teller come to mind. Comedian Bill Maher, though not strictly an atheist, is, let’s say, without benefit of clergy. The cadre of the damned —Sagan, Susskind, Dawkins, Dennett, Harris, et al.—won’t sell a fraction of the books culture warrior Bill O’Reilly will sell this Christmas, which kind of makes sense. Merry Christmas! Your God is a fraud!

I am a white Anglo-Saxon male born in late-20th century America—in other words, one of the most privileged beings to walk the earth. And yet insofar as my godlessness is concerned, I am a member of a despised minority. It’s like being gay.

I do appreciate the company, and the ammunition in these books, and the occasional exchanged glance of solidarity in the bookstore. But I’m just slightly alarmed. The new atheism is pretty hard-core, militantly insisting we challenge religiosity wherever we meet it, or else enable its darker extremist tendencies. In other words, the new atheism is on a quest for conversion. Having insisted on tolerance of our non-faith, Dawkins and Harris’ take-no-prisoners orthodoxy would have us be intolerant of others’ faith. Oh boy, just when I was beginning to enjoy being an atheist.

I can’t bring myself to confront others on the truth-data of their religious beliefs, even if they do involve some strange convoluted myth of Old Testament prophesy and Hellenistic blood cults. I was brought up better than that. Believe what you like, insofar as it does not interfere with my lack of belief. Believe in Thor’s mighty hammer, for all I care. Tell me Merry Christmas when I’m coming out of Wal-Mart. And happy holidays right back at ya.

Italian nun shot dead by Somali gunmen By MOHAMED SHEIKH NOR, Associated Press Writer

MOGADISHU, Somalia — Two gunmen killed an Italian nun and her bodyguard at a hospital Sunday, and a security official for an Islamic militia controlling the capital speculated the attack was linked to worldwide Muslim anger over a speech by Pope Benedict XVI.

The nun, whose identify was not released, was shot in the back four times at the entrance to the Austrian-run S.O.S. Hospital in northern Mogadishu, said Dr. Mohamed Yusuf, a physician at the facility, which serves mothers and children.

The rage among Muslims is becoming a mass-madness and public health crisis. How can human beings be so monstrous to each other and claim piety at the same time? Religion is no longer the opiate of the people — it’s the crystal meth of the people.

Sadly, whatever the cure may be, it isn’t the War Without End. Armageddonists aren’t going to lead us to peace. mjh

If you haven’t seen the video of George Allen, contender for the Republican presidential nomination in 2008 — well, where the hell have you been? Actually, I missed it until Friday night on PBS, but word is that it has been the most viewed clip on YouTube.com.

The video was shot by a young American man of Indian descent who works for Allen’s opponent in a Virginia race. In it, Allen looks right into the camera and addresses the young man with a strange term that may be derogatory.

It’s not the language that matters here; you need to see Allen’s mien and posture. This is a man caught being very ugly, being a bully. He’ll go far in politics.

Now, I’m certain we’ve all done things we’d rather not see on video, maybe even ugly or mean things. But, we’re not all contenders for the presidency — no matter how low the entrance requirements have sunk.

Allen is a strange bird, from Southern California but with Dixie in his heart.

These days, many southerners protest they are held to an unfair standard. Let’s see: generations of slavery, secession from the union with bloody consequences, birthplace of Jim Crow, the Klan and lynching — aw, what the hell, all is forgiven.

By this rude summary, I do not mean to paint all Southerners as participants in or celebrants of every aspect of their history — OUR history. I sincerely sympathize with generous, kind-hearted, colorblind, love-thy-neighbor Southerners who feel unfairly judged. Nevertheless, there are a lot of Confederate battle flags around. It used to be said, “the South shall rise again.” It did — and put Duhbya in the White House.

At the same time, it is clear that Boston could be south of Richmond if that’s how we rate racism. Racism, like all the -isms, is deeply human if inhumane. Few of us are genuinely innocent after a few years steeped in whatever niche of our culture. Hate is human. Ignorance even more so. mjh

Read mjh’s blog — The Real Inaugural Address

Brothers and Sisters, it has taken nearly 150 years to win our war against Northern Aggression. A lot of Yankee blood has watered our gardens. Now, we are triumphant. We have beaten the Beast …. [read one of my favs]