Losing My Anti-Religion

http://childpsychiatryassociates.com/treatment-team/mary-hilliard/ Goddamnit.

I never thought the day would come, but I’m going to have to renounce my atheism and cast my lot in with the believers.

The latter half of that proclamation is nothing new; I’m such a believer in (and product of) the Scientific Method that I take it as nothing short of faith. The first part, though, I never thought I’d have to utter.

But watching an episode of The Atheist Experience, a YouTube channel, finally sent me over the edge.

The show, hosted by Matt Dillahunty, features some lively debates between Dillahunty and select other atheists, who field ardent and sometimes angry calls nationwide from believers. I called in once. They take calls only from believers.

Matt Dillahunty - Wikipedia
Matt Dillahunty

The shows of late have gone like this: A caller rings in and says something to the effect of: “I know you guys say there’s no God, but...”

At that point, Dillahunty unfailingly cuts off the caller to correct the record about his position on God — and the definition of atheism: the disbelief or lack of belief in the existence of God or gods. “I’m not saying there is no God,” Dillahunty is fond of saying. “I’m saying the burden of proof is on the believer making the claim.”

The caller is usally so thrown off by the nitpick that they never get to the meat of the philosophical difference.

I’m calling bullshit. Yes, that is the Oxford definition of atheism. But we know that everyday atheists mean ‘There is no god.’ when they identify as such.

I know that as fact because I used to say and think it all the time. And if you’re still talking Oxford’s definition ((in Christianity and other monotheistic religions) the creator and ruler of the universe and source of all moral authority; the supreme being), I’d say it still.

But in the spirit of the law (which is what we all seek, yes?), I’ve abridged my thinking. If religion is undeciphered science (which I also take as faith), then that undeciphered science is the higher power. Whatever you want to call it — empiricism, evidence-based, factual, provable, predictive, falsifiable — that what I believe. That’s what I am.

And I’m tired of hearing people tell me who they’re not.

It’s that very behavior that has proved such political mildew at either end of the spectrum. On the right, you have a GOP that will tell you what they’re against: abortion, gun control, Obamacare. Ask them specifically what they do want, and you’ll get a CPAC-smeared version of “I don’t want to get ripped off anymore.”

The mold is no less toxic on the port bow. What is the woke cancel culture but a societal rejection of what we’d like to forget about ourselves?

Both are easy way outs, a sound bite after a close game, a political answer to an apolitical question. We like all music. We like all foods. We are non-binary, off-the-guage, undefinable-but-still-uniquely-individual fingerprints on the steering wheel that is humanity.

Fuck that. Pick a side, suit up, and get on the field. Regardless of jersey, we’re human, right?

We all believe in something.

Make Me a Gift of Arrow and Quiver

I came upon California quite by accident.

I was the transportation reporter for USA Today and based out of metro Washington, D.C. The paper sent me to Los Angeles to cover a NAFTA event, or conference, or duel, or orgy or something. That’s all I remember about the assignment.

What I’ll never forget is my rental car: A Chrysler Sebring convertible. And it was February, like now. And it was sunny, like now. And it was warm, like now.

I was so overcome by the glow that I remember putting the top down, hitting the first freeway out of the airport and driving, according to the freeway signs, toward the Mojave Desert.

I don’t think I reached it, but I may has well: I remember seeing an actual tumbleweed. I had only seen them in Bugs Bunny cartoons, yet there on was. Just rolling — on my side of the highway.

So I got out. And chased it in my Dockers and button-down. I don’t know why: I just needed to know it was real. And when I caught it, I brought it back and forced it into the trunk, like a hostage. I don’t know why I did that, either. But the Avis rental agent who checked me in must have been thrilled to see the mass of dry twigs in the trunk.

I knew then I was a California boy. I think the state does that to some people. For those who choose to call it home, there’s something that eclipses the vanity and humanity of the place, and there is certainly too much of both.

But there’s something to Cali that still feels American, in all the right ways, to me. There are parts of the West that still look as it must have to the settlers. Still open. Still warm. Still open to possibilities.

Like a tumbleweed.

So in honor this week of National California Day (Feb. 22), a FactSlap column, Golden Bear Edition:

  • With a population of 39.5 million people, California is the most populous US state.
  • Inventions from California include the hula hoop, the Egg McMuffin, Barbie, WD-40, California rolls (sushi), Cobb salad, the Shirley Temple (alcoholic beverage), and the nicotine patch.
  • If California were a country, it would be the fifth-largest economy in the world, larger even than the United Kingdom, France, or India.
  • California is the birthplace of the film industry, hippy counterculture, the Internet, the personal computer, fast food, and beach culture.
  • California is the third largest state, after Alaska and Texas.
  • California is about the same size as France, Spain, and Sweden combined, at 1,040 miles long and 560 miles wide.
  • There are more national parks in California than in any other state, with 9 out of the 59 parks.
  • Humans settled in California as early as 19,000 years ago