So Aden and I have spent the day together. We’ve decided to blog about it. Aden took all the pictures and was keeper of the camera on our walk. I’ll do the techie work, and the captions for the photos, and Aden will do the heavy lifting of the blogging:
Look closely to see the Daddy Long Legs on the screen
We saw a big grandaddy longlegs and it was strange because it had slanted legs. I don’t think it was a grandaddy longlegs at all.
A rock formation at the beginning of our stroll. We didn't reach in.
I like this hole in the rock. I wish I could be a bunny, and hop right in.
Bullseye camera-shy
He is such a beautiful horse. I love him very much. His nose is soft.
Deer track
I think this is a deer print, but it could be a cow. It’s too little for a cow print, and the donkeys don’t have a split hoof. That’s why I think it’s a deer print.
TVA line. Picture-worthy, when you're 6
I love TV. I wish I could have windmill.
Cow pie with insect holes...or something. Don't judge.
Bugs dug holes in this poop, but it might not be bugs. Could be moles or groundhogs. Choose one.
Big ol' sinkhole, a middle Tennessee feature
We talked about how a sinkhole is made. See the rocks? Maybe it’s from water.
another rock formation we liked
This is a funny turtle rock we found. Or maybe a duck.
Me, Casey, and Aden playing Shadow Muscles -- an original game that Casey and I did not pervert at all.
Look at my strong shadow! See my beach ball!
Itsy-bitsy frog near the pond
I wish I could have a frog for a pet.
6-year-old Aden told 20-year-old Casey to pick up a cactus. *Sigh*
Too bad Casey. Better luck next time. Don’t do what a 6-year-old tells you to.
Mushroom at the end of the walk
Funny mushroom!
A little visit with Uga
We love you Uga, and wish we could see you again.
Not bad for his first try. We’ll do it again with another adventure.
I hate it when I want to blog and want to blog and mean to blog and try to blog and then I check and it’s been 3 weeks since I blogged! I really have much more to say than that!
I’m not going to blahblahblahlife’ssobusyIcan’tblogrightnowI’lldoittomorrowblahblahblah. But I will say that I’m in the process of developing a super-secret high-tech process by which I can blog directly from my brain. Could get a little scary if I don’t have the filter set high enough, but absolutely promises to be interesting…
I am still coming down off my high of the last week. JT Eberhard of the Secular Student Alliance was the guest of several Tennessee campuses and I had the privilege of carting his sweet self around the state! I got to hear him present both his “Morality without Religion” speech, and his “Coming Out Secular” (my favorite) at the campuses of Austin Peay, MTSU, Vanderbilt, and ETSU. I also got to hear the questions from the bright minds of the student attendees, and I was encouraged beyond description for our movement.
I am more convinced than ever that the future of secularism in our country is in the hands of our youth. I believe that my generation will trickle out of the faith, but our freethinking college and high school students recognize the importance of a secular society, the strength of the separation of church and state, the absolute need for a strong scientific approach in our schools, and the use of ration and reason as a basis for decision-making at every political level.
In the interest of getting this posted, I’ll sign off with a renewed promise to blog more often, what and all if they are a bit brief. (“what and all” is an expression my mother uses, and I’ll ask her what it means when I make a trip to Atlanta this week).
Hi everyone! Good to be back. Didn’t have the heart to blog for a bit, but life goes on.
September.
I have loved September since I was a little girl. Back in the day, we didn’t start school until after Labor Day, and unlike everyone else who dreaded the end of sumer, I couldn’t wait for school to start. I was a smartypants, and school was my refuge. Home life was sometimes unpleasant, and I thrived (throve?) in school. The pre-September school-clothes shopping event put me over the moon, and I had everything laid out on my bed the night before. It is not lost on me what a total dork that makes me out to be – Proudly.
Then there’s the fact that I am a southerner. You really simply do not have an appreciation for fall if you have not withstood a southern summer. It was 106 degrees here in middle Tennessee today. It’s been a helluva summer. But it’s September, and that heat is gonna give before the end of the month – forecast says it’s the next few days. It almost always breaks before the equinox and I start looking for it on September 1. That feel in the air of the drop in humidity, cool mornings and coffee on the porch, warm, clear sunshiny days of autumn.
With that turn in the weather comes football, high school and college, some of the best memories I have. Friday nights in Fayette County, or Saturday mornings in Athens, bring on the game. Those days hold significance each for their own reasons, all of them good. The friendships, the joy of the game, the partying, the ritual…all good.
Then when I became a parent (and one of my favorite kids was born in September), September meant a new schedule, new routine, new teachers, time to learn new things. For me it was a time for my new year’s resolutions – September was always a fresh start and new year for the kids and for me.
Finally, I have decided I’m a 3-season athlete. I don’t like training in the heat, the kids are all over the map and I’m trying to follow them, and after a long 9 months of training, it’s good to take the summer off. But after that three months, my sneaks start to call, the bike’s ready to roll her tires, and the cool mornings and warm afternoons just beckon to be utilized.
So bring out the turtlenecks and start cutting the firewood. Fall’s here.
This is a post I most certainly don’t want to write.
To get the worst part out of the way, and before I get to the good stuff: we lost our Uga. The condensed story is that she became overheated on a walk yesterday, and while she and I tried to get her cooled down quickly, she never really recovered, and at 9:30 pm last night, she died in my arms.
Our family has always had golden retrievers. We’ve had Maggie, Gracie, Roscoe, Lucy, and Boo. They have always fit in with our traveling, adventuresome family beautifully, and we have loved each of them. While each of them had a distinct personality, they all conformed to the classic Golden profile of loyalty, enthusiasm, and energy.
So when Jesse finally capitulated to my whining of 25 years for a bulldog, we were in for a surprise. This little while block of tiny puppy muscle snorted, farted, and drooled her way into our hearts at first sight.
One of the distinguishing features about a bulldog is their compact, muscular build. Uga was petite for a bulldog, but she had the classic bulldog stance with her broad shoulders, narrow hips, and endearing underbite. While you could hold her in one hand when we got her, it didn’t take her long to fill out to her delicate 50 pound self. Being a 50 pound dog is not unusual, until you take into account her height, putting all of that muscle mass on 4 short, stocky legs. Watching her try to get up on to the couch was endlessly entertaining. She did great with the first two, her front legs, and didn’t have too much trouble hooking the toenail of one her back legs onto the piping of the cushion. It was that last heave up that was the funny part. We would actually alert the household that Uga was going to get on the couch, just for the entertainment value, and Jesse never failed to give ongoing commentary to encourage her along.
We have scads of pictures of Uga in her spot on the couch in her favorite position. Like every pet we’ve ever had, we had no rules for where she could sleep, and most of her day was spent high on the back of the couch, ultimately completely breaking down that particular cushion. I think she liked it there because everyone could touch her coming through the house. You just could not pass that wrinkly face and upturned belly without a little rub.
Many bulldogs struggle with their weight; in her youth Uga had not had that problem, but there is no doubt that she was a C-H-O-W-H-O-U-N-D. She could be totally relaxed on her throne, but if you opened a drawer or cabinet in the kitchen, she could be as fleet as a gazelle, and be at your feet looking up expectantly in under 5 seconds. Again, our family made a game of this, seeing how quietly we could make a kitchen sound that would still wake her. Pretty quietly. The Sit command, which we taught her to do before we would give her a treat, was her most reliable trick. And if something accidentally fell to the floor…forget about it. Even and especially the ice from the icemaker. Yum.
Uga, for her short life, went on many adventures with us. She traveled to Florida in 2009 for a race I had in Panama City. She made several trips to Atlanta when we visited family; she even went on a ski trip to Colorado. But her biggest adventure every year was on the family trip to Ragbrai, the bike ride we take each year to Iowa. We take a team of 16-20 people on a converted school bus, and she and Boo have served as team mascots the past several years. This past year, just 2 weeks ago, son Sam configured a way for Uggs to get to be out on the ride itself, instead of just confined to bus patrol. In her 2 days of riding, 6-8 hours each, she never once laid down in that basket. Too much to see, too many people to smell, too many pictures to pose for.
Jesse has a theory about this next Uga feature. (I don’t know if I’ll have any success uploading the video – if not it’s on my Facebook videos). Uga was a Wasp Warrior. Here in Tennessee in the summer, there are always wasps. We have a screened porch, the doors to which we leave open so the dogs can come and go. Often wasps fly in, buzz around a bit, and eventually fly out again. Unless. Uga the Warrior did NOT LIKE WASPS. They had no business being on the porch, and she took it as a personal affront if she found one in there. She would spot one buzzing against the screen, sit quietly watching, watching, and when it flew low enough, BAM! She went into attack mode, and we never once saw her miss. She would snatch it into her mouth, chew, sling, bite, and eat every one. Jesse says she must have been stung a time or two and her aggressive fighter instincts led her to defend the turf.
Bulldogs are pretty content to lie about the place for hours in a day, and Uga fit the profile well. However, when I would suit up to go for a run on the property – hot/cold/rainy/dark/light – she was ready to go. She would run on those short legs, enjoying the smells and textures of the farm, rolling in the horse and cow manure, wading in the ponds, chasing rabbits and turkeys, and end up back at the house, panting, tired, and, I’ll speak for her, happy.
Each member of our family loved Uga, and we grieve her far-too-early death. It gives us joy to know what a delightful life she led, and the sweet memories she leaves with us. I may not watch as many Georgia games this fall — too many shots of that Uga. I never pass a bully in town without commenting and asking for permission to rub those irresistible face folds. Daughter Glenda created a Facebook page for her years ago, and she had LOTS of friends.
This is one of those 3am posts, so for my errors and misspellings, forgive me – I can hardly see the screen.
Rest in Peace precious girl.
Thanks for reading.
That faceThe indignity of being leashed at Mellow MushroomFam portrait, 2008cuz sometimes you need a rain jacketvery typical configurationalways up for kissesThis face. This.What? Doesn't everyone's 50# bulldog sleep on a glass table?Lots of thisOn the Ragbrai busIn the princess seat
I always have intentions of blogging everyday, but every year I forget how unbelievably difficult it is to find internet access or a decent signal on my aircard. The system is so overloaded with the influx of 20,000 cyclists and their electronica – we get text messages from one another the next day.
The drive up was uneventful, considering the bus, the passengers, and the mission. We met 5 team members in 3 places near Davenport. So we were finally assembled as a team of 16 and headed across the state to Glenwood, the starting town.
The ride up gets interesting
The first morning is always so exciting — we’re like racehorses waiting for the gates to open. Everyone is in clean, new Team Fly jerseys, our bikes are cleaned and tuned and we get up at sunrise ready to roll.
most of the team starting out
The weather forecast has been for mid to high 80’s, which sounds lovely until you factor in the heat index (which, by the way friends, Rush Limbaugh says is a left wing conspiracy). We’ve had such high humidity a couple of days have been ridiculously uncomfortable. It has finally (on day 6) leveled off a bit, but it’s still toasty.
musician in a tree doing yoga?hanging around the campsite in the eveningSlacklining for cyclistsChef Dustin and our salmon feasttypical campsite shottemporary tattoossometimes it happenssome small town in Iowanot sureall of Iowa has this good of receptionBobbing for beer - not as easy as it lookstequila, especially expensive tequila, helps with the heatsweet Samanother typical campsite shotlots and lots of this
I know this blog is heavy on the pics and light on the words, but I’ll go back and fill in. Hopefully the pics tell a lot of the story. I’ll try to have more pictures on my Facebook page and on the Team Fly Facebook page.
For now, I’ll end this blog at about the halfway point of the ride and do a followup post when I can get internet again.
We are having a blast, as we always do on this magnificent bike ride. We are enjoying each other and all of our new friends in spite of the atrocious heat.
Ragbrai is such a part of our family’s vocabulary I can’t remember ever not knowing it. This bike ride across Iowa has been rolling every year since 1973; our family’s first year to do it was 1990.
Ben was 5 and already on his 2 wheeler. Sam was 3 and on training wheels. The girls were 16 months old. We were living in Minnesota at the time, and Iowa was just a hop-skip south. My dad had done Ragbrai and urged us on so off we went.
It was a train wreck to say the least. Jesse was on his bike with Sam and Ben in a little cart behind him, trailering Ben’s baby bike. Every few miles, Jesse would get Ben out of the cart, let him ride a mile or two, put him back in the cart with Sam, and they’d go on again. I had the two girls in the cart behind me, with their toys and sippee cups and pillows.
It was hot and crowded and we couldn’t get enough. The rest, as they say, is history. Our family calls this week the Best Week of the Year. We may not get all the kids together at Christmas, but we can always count on Ragbrai.
This year, as it has been the last few years, Ben and girlfriend Kirsten will drive from Colorado and meet us in the End Town (Davenport this year) on the Eastern edge of the state, where they will get in the bus with us and drive across to the Western edge (Glenwood).
from the back looking forwardfrom the front looking toward the back
We will pack the bus and leave from Murfreesboro at 6:00 on Wednesday. It’s about 18 hours (by Team Fly bus) to Davenport, then another several hours across. We’ll be in place Saturday evening for our team kickoff meeting and Sunday am start! Tradition has the group of 20,000 riders dipping their wheels in the Missouri River Sunday morning, then after the 500 or so miles across the state, 7 days later dipping them in the Mississippi.
peleton up top
These are all old pictures. I’ll do my best to blog across the state, but internet is just too overwhelmed, even with my aircard.
Team Fly 2009
If ever in your daydreaming you think about doing something crazy and impulsive and out of the ordinary….Ragbrai is your ride. Always the last full week in July, always 7 days, always west to east. You don’t have to ride every mile – that’s what the bus is for.
These have truly been 4 of the most interesting days I have ever experienced.
Amy and I are on a plane headed east, home, away from Sin City and the conference known as TAM. This year’s theme was Tam 9 from Outer Space, and when I get home, I intend to watch the movie Plan 9 from Outer Space, since there were a great many references made to it during the 4 days of the meeting.
TAM stands for The Amazing Meeting, and it is put on annually by the James Randi Educational Foundation. Here’s James Randi:
He’s THIS adorable
He is a magician and illusionist who has spend his lifetime exposing scams, hoaxes, and supernatural phenomena. His foundation is a non-profit whose mission is to: “promote critical thinking by reaching out to the public and media with reliable information about paranormal and supernatural ideas so widespread in our society today.” This annual meeting is a gathering of scientists, and experts in their fields, who seek to replace bad science, misinformation, incorrect conventional wisdom, and public misperception. This foundation has had a standing offer for years of $1,000,000 to anyone who can offer any proof of ANY supernatural event or ability, including any religion, magician, mind-reader, or psychic. It hasn’t yet been won.
A discussion of the weekend is not complete without first explaining the word Skepticism. I’m sure we all know what the definition of the word is. We say we are skeptical of something when we mean that we doubt or are uncertain or not convinced. We may say we are skeptical of another’s conclusion. Skepticism on the part of those individuals who refer to themselves as Skeptics, is an attitude, or an approach to life. It is a method used to ascertain the validity of certain arguments. It is a relentless process applied to every aspect of our lives, using the scientific method of hypothesis and disproof to reach conclusions. It involves critical thinking, tools of science, evidence, and an investigative spirit.
There are times when we are presented with information that a certain product or treatment or procedure will work this or that wonder. Skepticism is what keeps our money in our pockets and out of the hands of the folks making these claims. Skepticism is what keeps us healthy. Skepticism allows us to see the world as it really is, not as we wish it was, so that we can more effectively deal with our limits and our abilities.
The conference was a mix, as are most conventions like this, of workshops, socializing, whole group gatherings, and did I mention socializing?
I don’t know the most effective manner of presenting on this blog exactly what TAM was. In my mind it’s all a spastic jumble of wonderful speakers, engaging debate, delightful new friendships, and stimulating challenges. The meeting began on a Thursday morning, and ended on a Sunday night, and Amy and I attempted to attend every single moment of content that we could.
This is a link to a friend’s blog who “live-blogged” the event. He did a fabulous job of trying to catch the highlights of each speaker (with a little help from a couple of fellow bloggers). I won’t begin to try to describe everything, but his site is worth a visit to get a real flavor of the sequence of the meeting.
Hemant’s blog
Instead, I’ll highlight in more random fashion what Amy and I were most affected by, beginning with the opportunity to see and hear 2 of my favorite scientist (3 by Amy’s count): Richard Dawkins, Neil deGrasse Tyson, and Bill Nye (yes, the Science Guy). They, of course, were the big dogs at this event. The room of 1600 attendees was riveted each time one of these gentlemen was on the stage.
Richard Dawkins was the keynote speaker on Saturday night, and what a joy to hear him speak. He has been called strident and militant, but I have never heard a more soothing, gentle, patient voice speak with awe about the wonder of science. He previewed for us his upcoming book for children: The Magic of Reality. In it he discusses different kinds of magic – the fairy tale version, intentionally created in stories and legend, the illusionary magic of tricks, and the poetic magic of reality, which is all the more wonderful because it is real and can be understood. The book addressed civilization’s stories of creation, earthquakes, floods, and then gives a scientific explanation of how those things actually happened. The illustrator is Dave McKean and his work is gorgeous.
There were book signings by all the speakers, and of course Amy and I both got our books signed by Dawkins – my picture is a little shabby, but here it is.
crappy, but recognizable
I can add that in a workshop on Thursday, Amy and I were contentedly listening to a panel of scientists talk about defending evolution in school when I glanced around and there, behind me, was the man himself. I was so shocked I had a weird emotional moment – I couldn’t catch my breath and even started to cry (all subtle – I am a southern girl) – I couldn’t even tell Amy what was happening for a moment or two. When I recovered, I got out my phone and had Amy take this shot:
that’s my shoulder and blouse on the right
In delightful opposition to Dawkins’ sophisticated and eloquent persona, was Dr. Neil Tyson’s warm, humorous, engaging presentation. Dr. Tyson is an astrophysicist with the Hayden Planetarium, and both gave the keynote on Friday, and participated in a panel discussion about space exploration.
sexy as hell
Tyson is cooler than cool. He made astronomy sexy and interesting and accessible. There are scads of clips of him on Youtube doing different presentations and lectures – here’s one of my favorite:
Then there was Amy’s favorite: Bill Nye. She grew up watching him do science experiments on public television, and he’s one of her heroes. He wore his recognizable bow tie and looks exactly like he has for all the years we’re seen him on TV. He was captivating, and spoke of “being a speck, on a speck, in a speck, in a universe of specklessness”. Because there was a theme of Outer Space, almost everyone’s lecture referred to the magificence and magnitude of the galaxies in the universe.
The Science GuyAnother fluke seating!
There were several other folks I had looked forward to hearing, and they all surpassed my expectations. Carol Tavris, who wrote “Mistakes Were Made, But Not By Me” was the most gracious and articulate speaker I’ve ever heard. Dr Eugenie Scott, an anthropologist, Dr Lawrence Krauss, a theoretical physicist, and Dr. Harriet Hall, a former flight surgeon and pilot in the USAF were among my favorites. I also enjoyed, but had heard before, Dr. PZ Myers, probably the most popular science blogger on the internet.
You know how when you attend a convention sometimes you’ll hit a sinker in the middle of a lecture or workshop? That never happened. Every panel, every speaker, every workshop, every presentation was as interesting as the one before it:
WORKSHOPS
Defending Evolution in the Classroom and beyond
Recurring Themes in Medical Mythology
How to Effectively Create a Campaign of Grassroots Skepticism
Raising Skeptics
PANEL DISCUSSIONS
Our Future in Space
Ethics of Paranormal Investigations
Placebo Medicine
Now for a little about the socializing…
It IS Vegas.
Penn Jillette’s Rock and Roll Bacon and Donut Party. Yes. A whole multiverse of win. Jillette offered this party to the TAM attendees in honor of James Randi. There really was bacon. 1200 Krispy Kreme Donuts. And Rock and Roll, with Jillette’s No God Band. Amy and I had the best time dancing and drinking and rocking with our new friends at TAM.
(pics are on Amy’s camera – more to come)
Skeptics in the Hot Tub. An informal event that took place every night in the hot tub. Each day’s speakers and topics were discussed further, with sometimes animated dissent, until the casino finally kicked us out at closing time.
The Del Mar Bar. Kind of a philosopher’s hangout. We were told that the casino loses money on skeptics because we don’t gamble (because we understand statistics), so we tried our very best to make up for that here. This was where the party went after the hot tub closed.
This post has gone on far too long….unlike TAM which ended too soon. We had such a great experience, and Amy and I fully expect to attend again next year, and bring more of the fam along when we do! We came away humbled, with new knowledge and information, new friendships, and a drive to see the world, its inhabitants, and all that may be beyond what we already know, in all of its beauty, as it really is.
The fun thing to do is to write about everything that’s happening here!
Amy and I have scooted out of town for a quick few days to Las Vegas to the 9th gathering of the Amazing Meeting. What a perfect adjective!
TAM is an annual celebration of science, skepticism, and critical thinking (right off the website). It is our first time to attend, so I’ll be adding our perceptions and experiences as they happen.
Today is mostly workshops. The run 2-at-a-time all day, so Amy and I are going to split up, then text like maniacs to decide which one go to! Our first two this morning are Defending Evolution in the Classroom (me) and Examining UFO’s and How to Make Your Own Without photoshop (Amy). That’s followed by Investigating Monster Mysteries (Amy) and Recurring Themes in Medical Mythology (me).
It’s my hope to blog tonight about all of today’s events, but we also have tickets to the 12:10 showing of Deathly Hallows, so I don’t even know if I’ll be conscious by then!
The conference is being held at the South Point Casino, and we’re staying on the 22nd floor – we have a view of the pool which we intend to critically investigate later today. On the casino floor is that very Vegas dingdingdingding that you hear for days even after you’ve left. We don’t think we’re going to gamble – maybe penny slots – but we like to watch other people lose money.
So I’ve written before about how all of my heroes are academics: guess whose oxygen I will be breathing at this meeting? If atheism had a deity, it would be Richard Dawkins, and he’s here! I’ve got all of his books but one, but I didn’t see that one in the exhibit hall; Amy and I both brought our copy of God Delusion for autographs. Go ahead, call us fangirls, we know who we are.
THE Richard Dawkins
But there are two more speakers I’m as excited to hear as Dawkins. One is the founder of TAM and the James Randi Education Foundation: James Randi.
THE James Randi
And finally, here, in Vegas for me to meet and see and listen to: Neil DeGrasse Tyson!!!!!!!
THE Neil DeGrasse Tyson
He’s an astrophysicist and director of the Hayden Planterium, and he’s one of the best speakers I’ve ever heard (youtube him). He’s funny and engaging and so so smart. He’s played himself on Big Bang Theory, and he’s been on Daily Show and Colbert a few times. He’s speaking on the timely topic of Our Future in Space.
Amy’s geeked about seeing Bill Nye, the Science Guy. He’s on a couple of panels and is doing a presentation too.
I’m going to wait to write about the party at Penn Jillette’s house. Just really don’t know what to expect with that, but can’t wait to go!
I know, not much review, but we just got here last night! We hung in the bar a bit with some friends I had met in Des Moines. We called it an early night because of the time change and tonight’s late date with the movie theatre inside this hotel!
In the “look on the bright side” column of the past two weeks, from my dad’s initial heart attack until now, there are many thing for which I am grateful.
➔ Of course, foremost is my dad’s successful surgery and his beginning rehabilitation, which includes my gratitude to the professional staff who is his medical team, whose praises I cannot laud enough.
➔ The amount of time I’ve gotten to spend with my mother and brother, which even though it was in waiting rooms, hospital rooms, and cars, were still precious quality moments with two of my fave people.
➔ My family were all off on their adventures and hearing from them was a highlight of my day, especially when things were difficult here, as I found I was hungry for a happy, normal voice.
➔ My dear clients in Murfreesboro who have been patient, tolerant, and understanding in my sudden 2 weeks of unavailability.
➔ The law school program I’ve chosen which has allowed me to attend lectures in the middle of the night, chat with my classmates instantly, and even take my 3-hour essay midterm at the local library.
➔ Time I’ve spent in the hometown of my youth which has allowed me to reconnect with a couple of old familiar faces. It’s amazing how much everyone else has changed since high school.
➔ Because I’ve been done so much of my studying online instead of with my textbooks at home, I’ve had some extended cyber-conversations with several friends, most of whom are using the medium for asking how dad’s doing, and mom, and me. One particular conversation went in a little different direction, and it is the body of that conversation I want to post about today.
My friend lives in Nashville, and recently the notorious Westboro Baptist Church bunch came rolling into town to protest yet another military funeral. My friend’s group participated in a counter-protest, and it was an experience that had an impact on her. She talked about seeing the group, about seeing that they had their children with them, about how they looked as normal as anyone else — the usual responses you read about during one of the WBC counter-protests.
Westboro Baptist Church "members"
Let me back up a bit and explain a little phenomenon that occurs almost without fail any time I have a conversation with a believer about my journey out of faith. There are invariably 4 topics that arise, if not in that initial convo, then shortly thereafter: 1) What about the afterlife? 2) What if you are wrong? 3) How can you be moral without God? and 4) If evolution is true, why are there still apes? [That one troubles me beyond words; we should not be asking this question in the US in the 21st century] This post is about question #3.
This conversation with my friend is the third such conversation I have had about WBC. Each of the friends with whom I’ve had this chat is a believer, each knows that I am not. I am touched that each one of these people reached out to me to tell me about their experiences; I think that the underlying motivation is to share with me what they perceive as our common acceptance that there are religions that are not good and healthy and kind and compassionate. Not all of my Christian friends are so willing to engage in a conversation about anything regarding faith, and I am grateful that these friends have chosen to do this.
Try to put aside for a moment what you know I am going to write about the First Amendment. I think what WBC is repulsive, hateful, arrogant, and inflammatory. Exactly the type of speech that the 1st Amendment protects. Another post for another time.
Try to put aside for a moment what you know I am going to write about the basis for this church’s position. If you have researched them at all, you know that they match a biblical mandate to every action they take. Another post for another time.
The issue that is holding my attention here is the individual response my friends are describing to me. I hear the passion in their voices when they tell me how they feel about their experience. I hear them talk about the families and friends of the deceased (in the Nashville case it was a soldier), and their compassion and understanding of their pain, and their desire to keep that pain from being magnified by WBC’s malicious actions.
In other words, they are having a humanist response.
Their motivation to act is built on sympathy, compassion, and concern; none of my friends had any connection to the soldier’s family or friends. They describe to me what it must feel like for that family and those friends to have received the news of their loved one’s death, the trauma and shock they must be experiencing, the grief and loss that is relentless in those first few days and weeks, and then to have to consider the possibility that this organization may publicly celebrate that very pain. One friend even said that she couldn’t NOT participate in trying to protect this grieving group of people from more pain.
The Good Without God question is not only a valid one, it is incredibly important. I have believing friends who can’t even begin to address whether or not the faith has any evidence or is rational or reasonable because this issue is so overriding. There is such a default mentality that without supreme guidance, we could not govern our impulses – without external rules we have no restrictions against stealing or killing or destruction. I would suggest that that is not the case.
This is a topic of discussion within the atheist community, and there are several great books out now on the subject: The Moral Landscape by Sam Harris, The God Virus by Darrel Ray, Godless by Dan Barker, and The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins. These I have read; there are others, but I don’t want to recommend a book I haven’t read. These folks address the issue from a sociological, anthropological, and psychological standpoint. I wish I had read these books as a believer; I think they give insight on the subject of morality well worth exploring whatever your life’s philosophy.
Like every concerned parent of my generation, when I began to have children I read a few parenting books, from across the spectrum of opinion. I was confident I didn’t want to use the Because I Said So approach and leave my children vulnerable when they weren’t around me. It took me their lifetimes to determine that my goal was to guide them toward a self-discipline based on reason, compassion, and empathy. They have learned that lesson in spite of me, and have become kind, loving, generous, moral people. I’ve seen each of them give of themselves to others when even I thought they should conserve. I’ve seen them reach out to someone in pain or need, and I’ve seen them share in another’s joy just for the sake of that person’s joy.
This post was not to have been one of Those Posts. My kids are great, but my larger point is this: an individual, internalized, intentional, reasonable, compassion-based, empathy-driven morality is not only possible, it transcends whatever external rules and laws are implemented by religion or government.
Have the conversation. Think about it, read about it, talk about it. Let me know what you think.
Happy. Healthy. Heathen. 