Gods, monsters, and faithlessness.

When you go through a hard time, to whom do you turn? Friends? Family? God?
Friends may offer a shoulder, and the occasional loan. From your family, you often find yourself with the same treatment. What does God offer you?
Numerous times have I been approached by the homeless and the downtrodden, and when I offer aid, I am often thanked in the name of God.
"Oh thank you, praise God."
"God bless!"
"Jesus thanks you."
Ad infinitum.

Having been raised in a very unusually random religious way, I often think about the various faiths we all subscribe to, be it an absence of faith in God or a total faith in God. Most of my friends, I have noticed, are agnostic. There is a smattering of atheists thrown in for good measure. Others lean toward Buddhism, and more keep their faith in a Christian or Catholic God. Oddly, the few Jewish folks I know tend to avoid their own religion. My background consisted of a bit of everything... my grandmother was the type to wander from church to church in search of the proper words. I was raised a Catholic, sort of, which I quickly abandoned without much hesitation. She took me to Baptist churches where the patronage would flail and scream as if the Holy Ghost was doing a jig in their very souls, and churches where we spoke in tongues and the occasional snake made an appearance. It was a rather odd, but broad view of American religion.

As my mother once told my grandmother, "All you are doing is looking for what the preacher says. You are doing nothing more but hearing what they want to tell you, what they want you to hear, and you're just waiting for someone to say what appeals to you. If you want to pray, why don't you just go talk to God alone under a tree? You're just paying for opinions."
My mother is an atheist, she claims, yet she admits to not knowing. A reluctant agnostic.

Most of the people I know came from some religious background. Few were kept from exposure to at least one particular belief system, and fewer adhered to it.
"I began to doubt the absolute veracity of what I had been taught concerning religious subject matters when I started to think more critically and rationally outside the private school and church environment. Reading books about philosophy, physical science, anthropology and mystical beliefs were instrumental to forming of a greater understanding of the subject and its many aspects. Deep conversations with my friends and their experiences and views also helped to widen my world and reveal a more complex reality. I began to study and analyze religion and faith and the possible nature of a deity as fascinating subjects for thought and consideration rather than further engage in religious worship and its rituals. At the same time, I did not forget my original programming even though I had a dawning realization that the school and church were indeed just that-- institutions dedicated to cultural /emotional /psychological programming regardless of the teachers' (noble or ignoble) intentions."

He obviously didn't start that way. As he said of his childhood,
"I was a Lutheran Protestant Christian-- or at least I was in training to be one. I went to a private school for 9 years and was taught all the dogmatic principles which shaped my young life. I went through the confirmation process and attended church."
He was rather rabidly religious before rationalization, as he says, kicked in. It seems to be a common process... childhood brings the wonder of God; the maturing mind removes the awe and replaces it with skepticism.

Another says, "I had a brief phase where I decided God was a good idea, after religion lessons in school. I remember coming home and informing my parents about this, and being somewhat surprised that they didn't believe in god. In asking them why: "Because I'm too scientific." This puzzled me for a while... I didn't "get" the connection between being scientific and not being religious. I was probably only about 11 at the time."

His falling out with the church was partly due to the teacher of said class, as he explains.

"I also remember the religious studies teacher giving us homework: "Today's a practical. I want you to go home and pray for something, and see what happens." Next week, we came back, and discussed our experience. Some of the kids had prayed that they would win at football against some other school, and they'd lost. The teacher explained this by suggesting they shouldn't be praying that they would win, but praying that they would play their best, which seemed a cop-out. Anyway, eventually I gave up on the whole thing because it didn't seem to work, and I felt that something was wrong with it. I think I asked probing questions and got unsatisfactory answers."

Science has often blocked people from their religious views, as religion blocked science. One particular person I spoke to, on the other hand, has a keen scientific mind yet retains his spirituality. As he said of the role God plays in his life,

"Mostly he keeps reminding me that I'm not paying attention to Him and that existence is much better when I do pay attention. He's a guarantee that I'm never alone, I'm always provided for, always loved, and more importantly that I'm always understood. Aside from that, He speaks to me literally and figuratively through words, other people, intuitions, events, and prayer. More broadly, He provides a reason for and meaning to existence both personally and as the only cohesive answer to philosophy, spirituality, particle physics, turdunkens, truth, justice, and beauty."

He was one of those that was raised with a particular ideal in place, and went through some changes along the way.

"The primary view of being personally responsible for my beliefs and their veracity didn't change. Because of this, tons of views on more minor details changed. They change in two ways: either I realize that a particular belief was just an assumption then analyze/research it and throw it out or change it depending on whether it's a reality/truth or whether it's a social convention that humans just made up; or I find that there's a broader perspective on a particular belief that lets me understand it in a new, more accurate, or complete context."

Many people I came into contact with over this had other ideas on the subject, far less inclined towards a one truth perspective.

"Organized religions: generally bollocks, they all say the same thing "This is the one true religion, all others are wrong," ...and fail to provide any justification for that. However, atheists who say "there is no evidence for god therefore there is no god" are just as much idiots."

Others hold a slightly more rabid view.

"There is one God. Just one. Not Buddha, not some fifty-armed Indian, not some wolf in the sky or a flaming bird on a mountain. Just one. The Christian God. If you don't know that, you don't go to Heaven. End of story."

Tolerance seems to be lacking in every community, be it of a sexual orientation or for anyone that claims to know one God. Few stop to consider the perspectives of others in these instances, and it can lead to internal conflict.

"I have gay friends... plenty of gay friends. Do I believe what they are doing is ok? No. I pray for them daily, but I won't preach. If they want to sin, that is on them. They are not bad people, but the Bible makes it clear that sodomy and being with the same sex is an affront to God."

What is probably most telling of that ideal, though, is that this is the only person that requested I do not give a name.

“I don’t want them knowing that, though. They might be offended or stop talking to me.”

According to them, associating with sin is fine as long as no feelings get hurt.

I don’t recall that being said in the Bible.

Many newer groups have cropped up with the intention to gain a larger youth base, becoming “edgy” or trying to have them seen as a cool new thing to do.

God is the new cigarette.

God is someone you love and trust because he’s badass.

“It’s marketing. I think if you believe anything at all the Bible said, perhaps you should consider the passage in Matthew that says that God will not tolerate the money lenders in temple, and that’s what all of it is about. It’s about a bunch of people who can’t find any way to increase the ranks but to get on their level. There’s nothing particularly honorable about it. It’s a ploy.”

I was approached by one such group while at work on the college campus, which claimed they would smile upon my “look” (apparently jeans, tattoos and boots are a new look combination…) and that there were plenty of other people such as myself there. They said that God doesn’t have to be a burden, and that you can still basically be a moronic drunken college kid, but God will forgive you! After declining all offers and making them aware that I was not a student, they said I would be prayed for.

I rather hope they didn’t. That doesn’t sound like a very bright god to me.

Everyone is obviously entitled to believe as they see fit. All too often such things have ended in war and bloodshed, but many things do. One person told me of their beliefs:

“I would gladly die for my God. I would kill for my God. If someone questions my faith, I will SHOW them.”

It is one of the few things people can find themselves feeling so very strongly for.

Associations that occur for those that do, do not, and question believing in God can often be far too black and white. It is often felt that Christians are all right-wing ultra conservatives, and atheists are over liberal. Muslims are terrorists; Jewish people any number of stereotypes you want to choose.

Nobody I spoke to seemed to come to any whole consensus, or even partial. The people that claimed to be Christians didn’t have many agreeing systems. Every single answer as to what God is was subject to personal interpretation. Even within a single church everyone will have differing ideas as to what the scripture truly means, and what still applies to this day. Where is the solidarity?

“I don’t think there’s a natural dichotomy between religion and atheism. I think perhaps there is a natural dichotomy between religion and faithlessness; I think there is a natural dichotomy between atheism and believing in any god. Religion can just as easily be hollow faith in anything, just like faithlessness is having faith in nothing, without any particular reason. The natural dichotomy between atheism and religion is that you can either believe in no god or you can believe in any god. It’s as simple as wanting to believe in a god and wanting to believe in no god. It’s why you have so many religions with competing belief systems.”

Without any particular agreement found, how can one finally choose and assume the ideals of any one side? Is God so personal to us that he has many forms for the individual depending on the situation? If there is only one true belief system, why can’t enough people agree within it? I remember being a child and hanging around the older ladies my grandmother spent time with after church. While AT church, everyone would bob their heads in agreement or sway about to whatever was said as if it was the only true word. After, of course, they would discuss how they didn’t agree with this or that, and how they can’t believe someone would say X. All is well and good when you’re in the House of the Lord, but afterward you can speak ill.

I will remain skeptical, myself.

The brave ones.

You’d never expect it when looking at him, with his bright eyes and the already deviously sly smiles. It wouldn’t be until you saw under his shirt that you’d notice the scar. Jonas is surprising in many ways… including his mere existence.

Erin never thought she wanted children, as many current parents out there once thought. But despite this, Jonas decided to pop into her reality. Yet, unlike some, when she found out she embraced it. She was going to be a mother, and planned or not, she was going to see it through.

Things don’t always go as we plan, though. Nobody expects to have a child with serious health issues. Especially when nothing is detected for the duration of the pregnancy… then the surprise is even harsher if you’ve been operating under the assumption that everything is fine.

It isn’t as if Erin is any stranger to the harsh realities of life. From an auto accident that left her with two broken legs (and the scars to prove it,) to an abusive boyfriend for a number of years and now a son born with half a heart, she’s been there. “Not sure if it would be irony that my mother raised me to be the happy person and the shitties things keeps happening to me. People tell you all the cliché shit because they don’t know what to say otherwise when these things happen.”

You can tell she is pensive to a degree about all of this. Despite the fact that this story has been told a thousand times (everyone kept up with Jonas’ recovery, and still does) this is a bit different. This is more than just an update, or casual conversation.

“How much shit can be piled on you before… l… I don’t know. It just doesn’t make any sense to me. We talk about Jonas and we figure we were given this because we can handle it.”

Erin has a job which constantly offers up times when people must ask the same, tired questions. She loves her job, but the monotony of the reactions can be irritating. Luckily, Jonas did provide some respite from this.

“The coolest thing about having him… a few weeks after he was born, I went to AI where Kris (her husband) is going to school. I had never met his classmates before, and it was nice… it was the first time the attention was on someone other than me. It’s nice now to talk about something other than working in radio. People always ask the same questions. But when you know me and spend time with me, you know I am not a big-headed crazy. I am just a normal person. It was so nice that nobody asked me about myself at all.”

Erin was an only child, and was thus subject to being the constant focus of attention. The drive home from the college gave her time to reflect on what had happened—she finally felt as if the lights had been taken off of her and placed on someone else for once. It was a relief, but his birth also provided other perspectives she had to face.

Shortly before Jonas was born, a friend of hers had a child. Of course, this one was without issues. “He was perfectly healthy, and I was so pissed… it’s like, even if there was a god, that’s just shitty. Whenever people say they pray for him, I try to be polite about it, but to me it just makes no fucking sense. It just doesn’t make any sense to me at all.”

You can see both sadness and joy when she speaks of him. It’s been a vicious road in such a short period of time, going between fear, optimism, and happiness. Despite all of this, she couldn’t love him more. “He’s such a sweet, easy-going kid. Aside from having to take him to the hospital the way we do, he’s so easy-going.”

“People say parenting is hard, but it’s not. I always said I’d be too selfish for it… but as soon as you have a child, you don’t second guess yourself. You just do the things that need to be done. People say that they don’t want children, and I did too… but for the most part when people say they didn’t want a kid they just don’t feel like they can do it right.”

If the months that have passed are any indicator, Erin is nothing short of a superb mother. Nights spent in uncomfortable hospitals, days spent holding her son after surgeries and tests. He may not know it yet, but Jonas has been given the best people for the job. Her experiences with him have led to anger at others, though-- all of which are valid.

“One of my friends just had an abortion and she felt she couldn’t do it. The father wasn’t there for her. She’s 25 and old enough to know better, and it made me angry. She’s my best friend on the whole planet and you can’t talk to her candidly … so really, why are you my best friend if you can’t talk to me and handle the truth?”

She has rapidly turned her attitude from that of a loving and nervous mother to an angry realist. The injustice of it digs in deep. “I asked her how she was dealing with it. She said she thinks she is more heartbroken over the guy, as if the child was nothing… just a thing. They don’t think of it as a life… just nothing. Really? Fuck you. It’s not about you. It’s a child. I said to her, I thought I knew her. But I didn’t. Not at all.”

It isn’t that she is pro-life, exactly. We discuss and agree on the whys and hows that abortion is a reasonable option, but neither of us can agree to it as a matter of convenience. “It’s hard because you want to do the right thing as a friend; be supportive no matter what… but when you’re a fucking idiot it’s hard to. There is no excuse for that. None.”

She is suddenly called away from our little corner… Jonas needs her. She doesn’t think twice, and rushes off to be with her baby. One day, this child will grow up to be a strong young man thanks to the efforts of his family. If anyone could be an example of surviving the odds, of pushing back despite hardship and coming out of it with a smile and shrug, it’s Erin. She has passed this on to her son, leaving no doubts that he can get through anything life decides to throw at him.

Oh, you silly bird...

"Hot town, summer in the city, back of my neck getting burnt and gritty... Been down, isn't it a pity... doesn't seem to be a shadow in the city..."

Can't get the song out of my head today. It is so perfect for this kind of weather. Florida is a desperately hot place-- seems to sap all of the life right out. I decided to brave it anyhow and go out for a bit of coffee, as I often do.
After a quick dash to catch my bus, rushing on and grabbing a seat, I notice this odd older man staring at the camera I carry with me. After some silence, he finally stands up and pulls the stop cord frantically.
"Devil box! Devil box! DEVIL BOX!"
And poof, he was gone.
It amused me for two reasons:
1.) He seemed to operate under the assumption that cameras do, in fact, steal souls,
2.) If you were sitting on the right side of the bus, you'd think he was pointing at my crotch.

Next bus! It seemed to be uneventful enough to start until a young, very much flaming black man/child stepped on. He had a perfect 70s porn mustache, pants hanging around his hips and a bandanna around his little flaming neck. He was trying to stealthily solicit some of the older riders, which was met with both confusion and blatant disgust. It didn't work out too well, to say the least. He finally fled after one of the older gentlemen decided he was going to give a piece of his mind, which was rapidly degrading to a bit of his fist.

I was pleasantly surprised to not be hassled on the way to the coffee house, aside from a car randomly trying to drive up the side of the railroad tracks-- as I was walking in that exact spot. As much as I need to be plowed into the gravel by a car, I had to do a quick little leap to avoid pulverization. He seemed angered that I had the audacity to walk on the sidewalk. That he was driving on. Ahem.

I try my best to be left alone when I'm writing or otherwise engaged in something I am deeply interested in, but there is never any guarantee some pushy chatterbox won't decide that I seem the kind of person to drop all and listen about their tales of woe as pertains to a certain boil, a poor sex life (my wife won't have sex with me... do you like blowjobs? 'Cause my wife doesn't...), or how that prostate just isn't what it used to be. Either way, that was my intent today. Sit quietly, put on some music and write some. The course of my writing was changed a bit thanks to the coffee shop patrons.

I see the usual riffraff ... Mullet Man, Wheelchair Guy, That Guy with Urine in a Cup.... (he's very special, indeed) but did not expect this exchange from a well-dressed Brit:

Well-dressed Brit: "Oi."
Me: "Hm?"
WDB: "You're writing."
Me: "Yes..."
WDB: "Whut about?"
Me: "I have this blog... thing..."
WDB: "Oh. One of those."
Me: "Yeah."
WDB: "So eh. Why bother? You Americans don't read."
Me: "I beg to differ. I read every day."
WDB: "Right. But not books."
Me: "Yes. Books. Those pulverized woody bits with binding and such and printing."
WDB: "Smartarses, all of you."
Me: "Yes."
WDB: "Well, right, keep having a go at aiming for something Americans are worthless for."
Me: "Indeed."

When he left, he started talking to some other chick at the restaurant next door. I am assuming he was just going around starting fights, because she looked right pissed after only a few minutes.
Oi! Cheers.

Just me.

I listen. It's what I do... what I will always do.

Without intending to, I overhear most of the conversations around me. It can't be helped-- can't tune it out. That's just the way it goes.

I’m an unwilling master at retaining memory of these conversations, too. I can recite most of the details with ease, and forgetting isn’t always an option. Oddly enough, I’ve lost a couple talks completely. Apparently my mind didn’t like those and removes them entirely. Yet, I can recall for you an entire conversation with one of my teachers from the third grade, or incidents from preschool. The brain is a mysterious thing at times.

I was an only child, so I didn’t really have anyone to talk to growing up. I had my cousins, but they were either significantly older or younger than I. So I turned to the next logical step – the animals.

I’ve been told by many that they have never seen someone with the kind of ability I do to converse and relate to animals. I guess I can’t really deny it, as they tend to flock to me. Sadly though, hanging out with animals doesn’t really make you many friends. I spent most of my childhood alone.

Instead, I started listening to the people around me as a source of interaction. I have very odd hearing. It is oversensitive, much like my eyes to light. I hear just about everything going on around me. Somehow, human voice tones are more difficult for me to hear up close than farther away. This has resulted in me missing pieces of conversation to me, but if you’re whispering about me down the hall, I hear it.

That came in handy as a kid, let me tell you.

People have accused me of eavesdropping, but the reality of it is not quite the same. I’ve tried not to listen to what people say around me. As I’m typing this, I have my headphones in, but I can still hear some snippets above and around the music. I can’t stop.

A lot of times, people don’t even hear me. I get talked over in a lot of conversations, I can say things and it goes unheard. There is some ability of mine to almost become invisible without intending to, in a way. I can start to speak, and someone will rapidly talk right over it. I don’t usually bother trying to pick up where I started. I used to be bothered by it, but you get used to these things after a while.

I suppose it amuses me that despite the fact at hand of being dismissed, people tend to note my presence quite often… strangers, mostly. They also have a habit of randomly striking up conversations with me, so apparently I’m seen as a listener before t

hey even truly meet me. I lead an odd life, it seems.

Friends being few and far between for me, I built my whole life around the best places to listen. I hung around coffee shops, and eventually started working at them to have a constant stream of words around me. I heard the darkest secrets of people, found out their fears, joys and mistakes. As a barista, people tend to view you like a bartender. I was told many, many stories in those days. Things they sometimes wouldn’t even tell their family. Such as the man that told me he was gay, and never told anyone before in his life. I convinced him to tell his family, and a week later, he left me a very substantial tip. I gave him the encouragement he needed to finally show who he really was. It was a beautiful thing.

There is one way people will listen without pause – when I tell a story. My attention to the details therein, the little nuances of the event… people note that. They comment on my ability to remember such things; to retain conversations as I do.

So here I am. I do my best communicating in writing, and I’ve learned to enjoy it. Hope you do too.