So I’m dicking around reading my RSS feeds and I stumble upon Penny Arcade’s update for the day. I don’t know who the fuck Kevin McCullouch is so I start digging. Turns out he’s the kind of right-wing wacky Fundie that probably endorses Huckabee. A few days previous he wrote this bundle of insanity jumping up gamers’ asses for being a bunch of liberal sex-addicted retards.
I’ve been obsessing about the ‘08 election lately too and that’s going to stop right now.
There’s no intelligent debate anymore. We as a people have completely lost the ability to discuss an issue intelligently and dispassionately. It’s really quite frustrating, and usually ends in nothing but a batch of insults. Ideally, everybody should leave a debate smarter, whether their position changed or not. That doesn’t mean anything anymore.
For atheists such as myself, I’m not sure why this is happening, but if I’m any example it’s because we get frustrated at anything that drops into the broad category of “stupid,” which roughly defined illogical + lack of common sense.
I can’t explain the inanity of the religious. The only thing I can think of is that thousands of years the religious as a people have come to be so defined by their persecution that they are either unable or unwilling to abandon it. More’s the pity, really; nothing worse than taking a religion about peace (pick your favorite, most of the Western religions are equally bad) and turning it into a set of guidelines for how and who to hate.
Curiously, while I was reading all this bullshit, I happened to be watching Passing Through Gethsemane, Babylon 5 Season 3 Episode 4. It’s a really interesting episode that expands on the storyline of Brother Theo and his monks. They are Christian, but the expansion of humans into space and discovery of hundreds of alien races throws their faith into a tailspin. So they leave Earth and take up residence on Babylon 5 in order to discuss religion with the other alien races in an attempt to figure out how Jesus fits into the universe, as it were. One of their order, Edward, is revealed to be a serial killer who, after being mindwiped as punishment for his crime, seeks out their order as part of his replacement personality’s need to fulfill the public good.
Yeah, I know, it’s a little ridiculous, but it’s science fiction. Same old story, new window dressing.
So the people who were victimized by this killer-turned-monk track him down, cause him to relive his killings (keep in mind that now he thinks he is a truly religious, peaceful man) and eventually murder him in cold blood.
Garibaldi, Sheridan and Brother Theo find him while he is barely alive. Brother Theo comforts Edward during the last moments of his life by praying for him.
This very moving scene was written by an atheist. In fact, here’s a piece of JMS wisdom direct from the Lurker’s Guide:
“The themes of faith and forgiveness were worthy of a theologian. Are you sure there isn’t something you’d like to tell us?”
Never shoot pool at a place called Pop’s. Never eat food at a place called Mom’s. The difference between horses and humans is that they’re too smart to be on what *we’ll* do.
And I have lost people. Too many people. Lost them to chance, violence, brutality beyond belief; I’ve seen all the senseless, ignoble acts of “god’s noblest creature.” And I am incapable of forgiving. My feelings are with G’Kar, hand sliced open, saying of the drops of blood flowing from that open wound, “How do you apologize to them?” “I can’t.” “Then I cannot forgive.”
As an atheist, I believe that all life is unspeakably precious, because it’s only here for a brief moment, a flare against the dark, and then it’s gone forever. No afterlives, no second chances, no backsies. So there can be nothing crueler than the abuse, destruction or wanton taking of a life. It is a crime no less than burning the Mona Lisa, for there is always just one of each.
So I cannot forgive. Which makes the notion of writing a character who CAN forgive momentarily attractive…because it allows me to explore in great detail something of which I am utterly incapable. I cannot fly, so I would write of birds and starships and kites; I cannot play an instrument, so I would write of composers and dancers; and I cannot forgive, so I would write of priests and monks and minbari….
Like Joe, I’m not capable of believing in real life anymore. I can believe in stories, in music, but I don’t hold out much hope that humans can be decent, peaceful people anymore. There’s just too much animosity, and those of us who should be the voices of peace and reason choose to be the voices of bigotry and insanity. I’ve never wanted to be proven more wrong.
