I almost became a Catholic over the holiday break


On our ride down to North Carolina, Tina took over driving for a few hours. I took the time to rest my eyes and catch up on social media.

On my Facebook feed, a young, Catholic girl posted an article that blew my mind. I mean. I’m dying to see how this current pope is going to change the current dismal perspective of Catholicism, but this particular article threw their efforts into overdrive.

Here’s the article if you want to read it.

The title reads: “POPE FRANCIS CONDEMNS RACISM AND DECLARES THAT “ALL RELIGIONS ARE TRUE” AT HISTORIC THIRD VATICAN COUNCIL”

And then the mind blowing began.

This in particular:

In a speech that shocked many, the Pope claimed “All religions are true, because they are true in the hearts of all those who believe in them. What other kind of truth is there? In the past, the church has been harsh on those it deemed morally wrong or sinful. Today, we no longer judge. Like a loving father, we never condemn our children. Our church is big enough for heterosexuals and homosexuals, for the pro-life and the pro-choice! For conservatives and liberals, even communists are welcome and have joined us. We all love and worship the same God.”

And later:

“God is changing and evolving as we are, For God lives in us and in our hearts. When we spread love and kindness in the world, we touch our own divinity and recognize it. The Bible is a beautiful holy book, but like all great and ancient works, some passages are outdated. Some even call for intolerance or judgement. The time has come to see these verses as later interpolations, contrary to the message of love and truth, which otherwise radiates through scripture. In accordance with our new understanding, we will begin to ordain women as cardinals, bishops and priests. In the future, it is my hope that we will have a woman pope one day. Let no door be closed to women that is open to men!”

The words in that article, this passage above included, would almost — ***ALMOST*** — cure me of disbelief.

This section was pure gold:

Through humility, soul searching, and prayerful contemplation we have gained a new understanding of certain dogmas. The church no longer believes in a literal hell where people suffer. This doctrine is incompatible with the infinite love of God. God is not a judge but a friend and a lover of humanity.

When I read most of the article to Tina, her response was, “Man, I’d consider becoming a Catholic again.”

That’s the rub.

The article is so well written and so ideal to what the church should do, but it gets too caught up in hoity toity, we’re right, they’re wrong bullshit.

It took three paragraphs before I said to myself, and Tina, “This is satire. We’ve been duped.”

So I looked further at the web site it was hosted on and sure enough, the site is satire.

Gold, though. Gold. Pure greatness.

Cheers to those folks at Diversity Chronicle. That was the closest I’ve been in a LONG time to consider even considering the consideration of a considerate thought about admiring the church.

And then you see stuff like this story (about how white American evangelicals reject science), and all that hope for the world is a flatulent balloon sound.

But then there’s the following, and my hopes are rejuvenated.

You can perfume a turd: TIME Names Pope Francis Person Of The Year


Despite the Catholic Church being mired in anti-gay and pro-pedophile bullshit over the past however long, TIME Names Pope Francis Person Of The Year.

Good job, Time. You’ve shown us that perfuming a turd is completely possible.

 

Pope Mohammed and Selflessness


“The secret to happiness,” says pope Mohammed just before plugging the tip of his thumb in his mouth, withdrawing it quickly making a smack sound. He reaches for a flute of a 1998 Krug Clos du Mesnil.

He sips.

He swallows.

“The secret to happiness,” repeats Pope Mohammed, “is complete selflessness.” You are sitting across from Pope Mohammed sipping a beer. Your hands are crossed on the place mat in front of you.

There’s a plate of canapés topped with Iranian Caviar in front of Pope Mohammed. There’s alittle more on his thumb and he licks it off.

Pope Mohammed says, “My flock easily loses sight of the formula which is to devote their savings to Gollah. Money is temporary. Gollah’s love is forever for the simple price of 9% of their income.”

“You know,” says Pope Mohammed. “We’re not greedy like those Christians.”

Pope Mohammed pauses. Picks up a canapé topped with caviar with two fingers, lays it on his tongue and closes his mouth. His brows furrow.

The dining room you’re in is dimly lighted with incandescent lights and lots of candles. The hushed murmurs of quiet conversations and forks clanking against plates is all around your table.

You wonder if the diamond in the ring on his right hand is four or five karats.

“Did you know that the Russians [he leans forward forward] — those liver-soaked commies — package caviar and put the Iranian Caviar labels on it and pass it as the real stuff? Could you imagine … tarnishing your palate with counterfeit caviar,” says Pope Mohammed.

There’s a man wearing an expensive looking suit to your right. A waiter puts a plate in front of him. Pope Mohammed leans over and says, “Crème brûlée of foie gras with tonga beans. Good choice.

“Where was I?” asks Pope Mohammed.

“Russian caviar?” You say.

“Oh yeah,” he says. “Our mission is to help those who can’t help themselves. Our goal should be helping the needy, the destitute, like Gollah did when he came to earth.

Pope Mohammed places another canapé on his tongue. Starts chewing, but doesn’t finish before saying, “But they gotta pay the rates to stay in the church, right?”

A waiter appears. He’s wearing a bow tie and a cumber bun. “How’s everything, sir Mohammed?” which is how he prefers to be called in public.

“You know what,” Pope Mohammed says. “The temperature on the caviar is wrong.

“The waiter says, “How’s that?”

“Did I stutter?”

“No Sir Mohammed. I’ve never heard of that.”

“Do you have google?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Look it up and bring it back when it’s right.”

What the kids are posting


Wow. Just, wow. How long has it been since I checked in on what those dirty, filthy atheist kids were posting over at reddit.com/r/atheism?

Not long enough, I tell ya.

Those jerks won’t leave well enough alone. I mean, now their quoting celebrities saying statements against faith?

What is this world coming to?

(if you can’t read it, post to enlarge).

George Clooney says, “I don’t believe in heaven and hell. I don’t know if I believe in God. All I know is that as an individual, I won’t allow this life — the only thing I know to exist — to be wasted.”

Kid at reason rally wearing a t-shirt that reads, I was an atheist until I realised I was a sex god.” 

Brad Pitt says, “When I got untethered from the comfort of religion, it wasn’t a loss of faith for me, it was a discovery of self,” he says. “I had faith that I’m capable enough to handle any situation. There’s peace in understanding that I have only one life, here and now, and I’m responsible.”

Pope: “Tells mexicans not to idolize money. Sit’s on a golden fucking throne.” 

Mythbuster Adam Savage says (at the Reason Rally) “I have concluded through careful empirical analysis and much thought that somebody is looking out for me, keeping track of what I think about things, forgiving me when I do less than I ought. Giving me strength to shoot for more than I think I’m capable of. I believe they know everything and I do think, and they still love me, and I’ve concluded, after careful consideration, that this person keeping score, is ME. 


Pope Mohammed and the Nightclub


“I come to places like this!” shouts Pope Mohammed straining his voice to a small group of people standing around him. Pope Mohammed is leaning on a bar at a nightclub filled to capacity.

The music goes THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD …

“I come to places like this,” repeats Pope Mohammed at an almost yell, “so that I can go to where the real people are!” Pope Mohammed’s hand is grappling a tumbler of scotch. If it weren’t for the thud of bass and electronic high hat, you might be able to hear the ice clanking in his glass.

He finishes his scotch. A finger shoots up and he orders another.

Pope Mohammed is wearing a white shirt, a black tie and a fedora. “It helps me connect with the hip kids,” Pope Mohammed tells you in the cab on the way to the club.

There’s a DJ on a stage towering four feet above the dance floor. He’s got large headphones on his head with one ear exposed. One shoulder is jutted upward pushing one earphone against his head. One hand is on a turntable turning a knob, and the other hand is in the air with a finger raised moving to the music.

You are standing outside the parameter of a group surrounding Pope Mohammed. Since you know him well, you can make out some of what he’s saying. Pope Mohammed repeats himself. He repeats himself a lot.

Flashing lights and a disco ball illuminate his face. There are neon signs above his head that read “Absolut,” “Southern Comfort,” and “Wild Turkey.”

The group standing around Pope Mohammed is bobbing their heads to the music.

Pope Mohammed says, “Don’t cha love the way the music almost goes right through you!

The group’s heads are buoys in water.

Nearby on the dance floor, there’s a young woman dancing on a riser with a pole in front of her. There’s a spotlight on her torso. Lasers make a grid around body and move up and down. She’s wearing a bikini top and boy shorts. Her boobs are just shy of falling out of her top.

“My father Gollah directs me to go where they need me most, and that means going where people are hurting, where they are needy, where they need to know significance,” shouts Pope Mohammed.

There’s a guy on another riser, with a silver bikini bottom thrusting his hips to the music. Glowing strings of different colors are strung around his neck.

The music goes, THUD THUD THUD SLAP THUD THUD THUD SLAP …

Pope Mohammed takes a sip of his drink and wipes his face with the palm of his hand. “People need my love, and that means getting out to meet them where they are,” Pope Mohammed says just before his chest convulses up from a burp and he covers his mouth with a closed fist.

Pope Mohammed finishes off another round, slams his tumbler on the bar, waves at the bar tender and doing a circular gesture with a free finger in a downward motion.

Much like he’s stirring an invisible drink.

The bartender nods, walks over to a cooler, bends over to pick up a bottle. Her shirt is low cut. Her cleavage is a waterfall of smooth skin. You watch Pope Mohammeds eyebrows raise as he watches. She places the tumbler in front of Pope Mohammed in time with the music. He smiles, picks up the glass and imagines they clink their glasses and says, “Thanks!”

You decide to go to the bathroom on the other side of the dance floor. You cut through the crowd. On your way, you see a group of girls celebrating a bachelorette party. The minute you get close enough to the girls who are laughing and dancing, you see the one with the veiled tiara holding a blowup penis point toward the bar and say, “Oh my gawd, do you see that guy in the hat and the tie by the bar?!?” You watch the group turn toward Pope Mohammed.

You turn, too. You scrunch your eyebrows. You look back at the girl.

Through nervous laughter she says, “That’s my rapist.”

Via

What the kids are posting


The kids over at reddit.com/r/atheism are busily making other folks in the world upset with their posts. Check out this quick selection of images and a link.

PZ’s letter to a 9 year old was pretty damn sweet. Read that here.

 

Image of Darth Vader in Pope hat reads, “I find your lack of faith disturbing.” 

 

Christopher Hitchens quote and image reads, “God did not make man. A single creator did not make us. Our species, mankind, instead made and continues to make many hundreds and thousands of gods. The gods that we’ve made are exactly the gods you’d expect to be made by a species that’s about half a chromosome away from being chimpanzee.” 

Image of Cleveland Brown says, “Christianity makes sense: A virgin had God’s baby, who then grew up to be murdered by *cough* Romans, so you and I could be forgiven for Eve eating that apple she got from the talking snake. Three days later, Jesus rose from the dead to tell everyone he was coming back someday to fight the devil. Then he flew up to his mansion in Heaven where he sits in judgement of the gays! How can you not believe that?!

 

That God cannot lie, is no advantage to your argument, because it is no proof that priests cannot, or that the Bible does not. 

Headline reads: Bishops agree sex abuse rules

Pope Mohammed and the Oil Derrick


“We’re doing the Earth a favor by relieving her of her oil,” says Pope Mohammed. He’s holding a powder donut near his mouth with his index finger and thumb. When Pope Mohammed hits the “TH” in the word earth, a little powder from his donut sweeps into the air. You watch it swirl and dissipate.

Pope Mohammed’s other hand is around a styrofoam cup of steaming, black coffee.

“How are we doing her a favor?” You ask after swallowing a bit of coffee that is sweetened with a little sugar, lightened with a little cream.

Pope Mohammed looks at you over the edge of his upturned coffee cup. You are with Pope Mohammed at a donut shop on Main Street. Outside there is an American Flag blowing in the wind. Across the street there is a Presbyterian Church.

A flash of a memory enters your head of a photo you saw on the front page of the local Newspaper. The image was of a young boy caught on a fence. Apparently the kid tried to jump the church fence, and he slipped. He fell and a fence spear stabbed his jaw and exited through his open mouth. The fire department had to saw off the fence spear before pulling the boy off the fence. He went home after some reconstruction, stitches and bandaging. The story and the image burned a hole in your mind.

“Oil is the pimple of mother earth, and we need to pop it,” explains Pope Mohammed.

Perplexed, you ask, “The pimple of earth … needs to be popped?”

“Have you ever seen a derrick fire?” Pope Mohammed asks. He has licked his finger, and now he’s punching at the white powder atop the wax paper in front of him.

“Um, no. Have you?” You ask.

“No. But I’ve seen ‘There Will be Blood’ and I saw footage of the explosion from the gulf last year.” Pope Mohammed is licking his fingers intermittently as he’s talking.

“Crude wants to burn [lick]. And whether we burn it in our car engines [lick] or it burns on its own [lick] that stuff wants to come out, and we should rid the earth of it for her sake [burp].”