"I never really hated the one true god
But the god of the people I hated"
Marilyn Manson - Disposable Teens
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"As a devout agnostic, Jubal consciously evalued all religions, from the animism of the Kalahari Bushmen to the most sober and intellectualized of the major Western faiths, as being equal. But emotionally he disliked some more than others... and the Church of the New Revelation set his teeth on edge. The Fosterites' flat-footed claim to utter gnosis through a direct pipeline to Heaven, their arrogant intolerance implemented in open persecution of all other religions wherever they were strong enough to get away with it, the sweaty football-rally and sales-convention flavor of their services - all these ancillary aspects depressed him. If people must go to church, why the devil couldn't they be dignified about it, like Catholics, Christian Scientists or Quakers?
[...]
So the Fosterites might be right. Jubal could not even show that they were probably wrong.
But, he reminded himself savagely, two things remained to him: his own taste and his own pride. If indeed the Fosterites had a monopoly on Truth (as they claimed), if Heaven were open only to Fosterites, then he, Jubal Harshaw, gentleman and free citizen, preferred that eternity of pain-filled damnation promised to all "sinners" who refused the New Revelation. He might not be able to see the naked face of God... but his eyesight was good enough to pick out his social equals - and these Fosterites, by damn, did not measure up!"
Robert Heinlein - Stranger in a Strange Land
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As a devout atheist I hold all beliefs in the supernatural, from Catholic frou-frou to modernly foppish "spiritualism" (whatever the everloving fuck that even means) to be equally moronic. But emotionally, it's religion's appeal to anti-intellectualism, to primitivism, gullibility and codependence which raises my hackles. If heavens are the province of punch-drunk sing-along ignorant rabble, then I'd rather share a sober discussion of evolutionary theory with The Accuser for the rest of eternity. If you must go to church, why can't you just sit quietly and mumble your nonsense in private with some scrap of decorum?
Hoppy Easter!
A nameless Roman redshirt named Longinus, passed over for a promotion, dipped an egg in lamb's blood and stick-magnetized it up Yaisuah's asshole. When it knocked up against The Most Holy of Prostates, it cracked, thus impregnating Yesu Grift-us with a killer rabbit doomed to have his adorable noggin' cracked only by the Holy Hand-Egg of Antioch. Thus, on East-Ur Sun-Dei, we crack colored eggs. We also traditionally bite the heads off cacao-and-cane-sugar lagomorphs, just like the twelve latter dolts say at the 501(c)3rd supper.
As for the palm fronds lining Jay-zus' entry into the New Jerusalem
(Dollywood) it's a little-known fact that they were handed out by the
fashion police as Edenically-appropriate garb. Fig leaves stem from a
Dianitpicky mis-translation of the original Atlantean. In reality, they
would've been much too small. Adam was hung like a unicorn. The palm
fronds only landed on the road in front of Jesus when the city-wide
flash mob honored him with a mass pantsing.
Now, pay attention, this next bit's important: the killer bunny emerged from Heh-sooth's dead thigh on the third day when the dry desert air had ripened both dermis and epidermis to tree-bark perfection. So the bunny had to rip out of the rotting corpse's flesh twice, gaining the name Deo-nebriatus, saint of this-sounds-more-plausible-drunk. Whence we derive the significance for both eating crusty wafers and getting vampirically tipsy. Judas was a biter. Of the Holy Spigot. It's how Jesus learned to hate gays.
What?
Whaaat? What're you lookin' at me like that for?
Like any of this is worse than the crap you morons worship as respectable religion. I may be talking out of my ass but at least I'm not trying to make you believe in a literal talking donkey. And even if you don't entirely buy that, you are still following the dictates and upholding the social control apparatus of those who would have you believe in talking snakes and donkeys! Every last bit of insanity and idiocy becomes possible once you accept the basic notion of an almighty shaper of all there is. If you're stupid enough to buy the circus, then you own all the animals inside it.
And what a menagerie you are, oh you happy few, you band of boneheads, you saved at the expense of all the rest of us: from self-mutilating Hindus and spaced-out Buddhists to snake-handling Appalachian Chreeshchuns and Scientologists worshipping a pulp SF novel. Who could hate you? Oh, right, all the other yous.
Take your holiest of men speaking his holiest wisdom in the incomprehensible million tongues of Paradise. Does he really sound so different from me congealing wordsicles in my stream-of-consciousness rambling?
So your priest wears a gold-embossed white or black robe. So what? I've got a polyester blend hooded sweatshirt. Is every chav pope of the universe?
You touch your forehead to the floor every time you kneel to Mecca? I slap my forehead every time I see you cretins do that. I maintain that my forehead slapping is holier than thine.
You like burning incense? I prefer the smell of pizza, and I'll take pepperoni over communion wafers any day.
If by this point you're thinking "holy shit" then yes, thank you, you're finally getting it. Holy is shit, and frankly it turns my stomach to see you eating it. What does it say about your intellectual abilities that you're so easily impressed by fancy robes, rations and rituals? Not much needs to be said. You can see the same conditioned emotional responses from other lower animals like yourselves, in every cat worshipping the holy incantation of the Covenant of the Can Opener and dogs praying at the door when their master's about to come home from work. Every day at 5:30 your dog witnesses the second coming of its god... just like Seventh-Day Adventists.
I cannot imagine sharing an eternity in the sort of three ring circus designed by you degenerate ass-clowns who fawn over such garbage. If heaven's an eternity of rednecks and other drooling primitives chanting "puh-raise jay-zusss" then I would either find my way to hell or make one.
Easter seems especially ludicrous, what with the cutesy-wootsie bunny wabbit celebrating a gruesome execution by crucifixtion, but it's really just another card in the tarot deck, more hollow make-work symbolism. Yeah, I could've used the fact that it fell on April 1st as a hook for this post, but honestly? You're fools year-round. Sure, sure, we can hand-wave the whole thing, saying that eggs are just a symbol of reincarnation (which is totes legit) but if you buy that, then you must admit your whole faith was puled out of a hen's cloaca. Once you agree to buy the basic notion of supernatural forces based on no evidence whatsoever, then you might as well buy into the whole ass-backwards lunacy. If you actually believe there are superhuman intellects out there who dedicate their existence to tabulating the number of times you masturbate and fart in elevators, all to justify themselves in keeping you alive for the rest of eternity... just so they can torture you... then you're a moron.
We are not the same species. Reason and superstition began to diverge at least half a millennium before some poor deluded schmuck of a rabbi was tortured to death for telling rabid apes to love each other. Minds capable of reason must learn to shed their attachments to the Allzumenschliche filth choking all life out of the world. As thinking beings, the faithful do not measure up.
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Edit 2018/04/03:
Added several middle paragraphs, as I was unhappy with the lack of detail I provided.
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