Video Killed the Radio Star

This Week : Friend Zone

No witty title or anything (I use ‘witty’ loosely). I’ve been addicted to Tumblr as of late, and something caught my eye that made my brain have one those moments. You know, those moments where something clicks and you zoom back to other times that you’ve been pissed off about the same damn thing?

This moment was about ‘The Friend Zone’

For those of you just tuning in to popular culture and the lingo of kids these days, the Friend Zone is this mythical place where nice guys get put by their beautiful female friends. According to myth, they are sent there by the words ‘You’re such a good friend’ while their female buddy skips off with the next doucher in the line of douches that she dates.

Guys who believe they are in the friend zone often times believe that women don’t want to date nice men, and that if their female friends would just look at them and stop dating assholes, the world will be a better place. Just like every other mythical thing: it’s bullshit, and I’m going to tell you why.

First off, let’s get past the fact that some women date men who are just not right for them. These women are free to do that, and they are free to not learn from their decisions. It’s their right as an individual human being. Guys who believe in the friend zone, let’s call them….Zoners, cling to this belief that there are no good guys but them, and they are a gift to women everywhere if they’d just give them a chance. What’s the problem with this? Why get upset about something that just seems a bit narcissitic? Because it borders on one of those ‘everything that’s wrong with the world’ things.

I had a friend in college (we are no longer friends, I could no longer stand him after living with him. Crusty sock issue). He was one of these guys that would always whine about how girls only date dicks, how they never give him a chance, how girls never want ‘nice guys’ yadda yadda yadda. Something about it always bothered me, and I knew there was something that was intrinsically wrong with his argument. I never could put my finger on it until the other day, and it turned out to be quite a few things wrong with it.

This friend of mine always went through the same pattern with these girls that he liked. He would meet them and put on his nice guy routine. (I have come to find out that this person is not really all that nice….and that’s not just the Crusty Sock Issue talking). These girls would see him as a friend, a nice guy that doesn’t mind listening to them. They would see him as a being, a human, that they could put even just a bit of their trust in. Usually, these girls already had a boyfriend. I don’t know if these boyfriends were all that bad, as I only had my friends side of the issue, but they were involved with someone. He would wait and wait and wait, continuing to be nice…to take them out to dinner and to hang out and be a companion. Then, when they would have rocky issues with their boyfriends, he would strike. He’d swoop in with this odd Super Hero Complex and try to save the damsel in distress. He’d ask them out on a real date, and he was almost always turned down. THIS was his proof that girls only want to date assholes. Like I said, some people like to date people that aren’t right for them for various reasons…none of which were his business. But, put yourself in the place of that girl. You’ve just broken up with someone you care about…and you go to this guy, this friend who maybe can give a different perspective, who has already shown that he is listening to you. You tell him all the horrible news and expect maybe a comforting word…but instead you get a date request. I’d turn you down too.

I almost wish I was still talking to this guy, so I could tell him just how much The Friend Zone is bullshit. Just because different people don’t want to date you, it doesn’t mean anything about an entire gender. The Friend Zone is a term so heavily used to narcissistic guys that see a woman as a vagina that, if showered with enough gifts…will open and be all yours for the dicking.

To those who claim they are in the Friend Zone: Stop it. How about instead of showering them with gifts, attention and posing as a friend, you just ask them out. If they say no, then you know where you stand. You can decide them if you want to keep them as a friend. They owe you nothing…no one asked you to pretend-friendship court them, no one forced you to imagine your life with them.

I’m so sick and tired hearing about The Friend Zone. I’m tired of seeing portrayed as some lovable dude that just can’t get that uppity bitches attention. Friend Zone philosophy is creepy and disturbing. Enough is Enough


(Note: Yes, this post was mostly directed at men, but that’s where is predominant in media and culture. Yes, it is targeted towards heterosexuals, but it happens outside that as well.)

Abide: Why I am becoming a Dudeist Priest

This is kind of funny, since my last post is about being free from religion. I have to say that I signed up to be a Dudeist Priest as a little ha-ha to myself. It kind of laughs in the face of religion because it’s not really. It’s a fan group, in all honesty, of the Big Lebowski. But, today, I received my official certification and letter of good standing and I realized…I could honestly do something good with this. It allows me to preside over ceremonies like marriages and funerals and the like, and I realized that I could offer something that maybe another ordained minister could not : a ceremony about the people there.

I started to envision myself at a marriage ceremony mostly. I imagined the couple that would want me to guide them through it all. They’d probably have their own vows, but I could say something wonderful…something completely secular and beautiful. I could talk about their love for one another, how they will improve their little sphere of the world. How they should remember not to sweat the small stuff and I could help them keep God out of their happy day, but still offer a bit of traditionalism to it.

So it started as a joke, but I can see myself doing something pretty cool with it. A little cash on the side helping people celebrate their happy day isn’t too bad either.

Dudeism is sort of like Buddhism. It can be a religion….but it can also just be a way of life. Yes, it’s inspired by a movie about a pot smoking bowler getting into shenanigans, but it has a bit of heart to it. And if I don’t have to make a pledge to God to have a fun certification, I’m all for it. I don’t believe I’m giving in to religion or anything, I’m just trying to do something cool that I think might be fun.


“The idea is this: Life is short and complicated and nobody knows what to do about it. So don’t do anything about it. Just take it easy, man. Stop worrying so much whether you’ll make it into the finals. Kick back with some friends and some oat soda and whether you roll strikes or gutters, do your best to be true to yourself and others – that is to say, abide.”


Freedom From Religion


Dear GOP: Do You Even Know How A Vagina Works?

Alright! Vaginas! I love ’em, you love ’em or at least you respect their existence. Vajajay, Whoo-whoo, lady parts. There are plenty names for them, but they are precious parts of the body that should be treated with love and the utmost care. Strong enough to push out a 8-10 lb sack of flesh and bone and heal, but delicate enough to be effected by the wrong type of body wash. Amazing pieces of the machine that is the female physique. 

And the GOP doesn’t know a goddamn thing about them. 

How do I know this? Because of some of the arguments that are coming up about birth control. 

Birth Control, the Slut Maker

I probably don’t need to clue you in, but Rush Limbaugh is a moron. He reiterated this fact by recently calling a Georgetown woman, Sandra Fluke, a ‘slut’ and a ‘prostitute’. Not because she gave any evidence of having a raucus sex life, or any testimony that she had been with hundreds of people sexually. No, it was because she was fighting for affordable access to birth control. 

I’m going to ignore those that are trying to say that Fluke has an agenda, because I honestly don’t care. Everyone has an agenda, and her’s happens to be absolutely harmless. We’re going to get into the fact that Rush Limbaugh, along with plenty of other men in the GOP and Catholic Church that are fighting this. And it all stems from, in my opinion, one thing. They don’t know how vaginas work (‘specially the catholic bishops yaknowhwatI’msayin’) 

I’m no doctor, but I’m a pretty reliable resource on vaginas. I have one, and I like them. Limbaugh stated that Fluke must be having so much sex to not be able to afford birth control. This was my first clue that he doesn’t really get it. He seems to think that you take a pill any time you have sex. That’s not true. Birth control, in the pill form, must be taken every day on schedule to be effective. Anyone who thinks that BC is a sexual drug like Viagra is among those, like Limbaugh that just don’t understand. 

The name ‘birth control’ is sort of a misnomer. I was on BC for many years, and it certainly wasn’t to prevent babies. (For those of you just tuning in, I don’t have sex with men, so no ‘oops’ babies for me.) It was because I bled, sometimes heavily, from Xmas to Valentines day. Even before that, my periods were heavy and unbearable, knocked me on my ass. Or rather, straight into the fetal position. I began to take BC to regulate my periods and to give me some sort of consistent cycle. I have a feeling no one is talking about it because periods, to these men, are ‘ucky’. But if you’re gonna talk about BC, you gotta talk about periods. Sorry, it’s just the way it is. 

Birth Control is not a stimulant like Viagra, it does not increase arousal. Well, that’s not it’s purpose. It does adjust hormones to technically, it could be argued that at certain times, it makes the idea of sex a bit more pleasing than other times. But, unlike Viagra, it is not for that purpose…and doesn’t give you a raging lady boner. It is a central part of women’s health. Not every woman needs it, but the large majority do. You cannot deny them affordable access to it. 

I’m not even going to address the Church really. They have people working for them that are not Catholic that need BC, and if any catholic women are like the ones in my family……they have women in their faith taking it anyway. I understand that you oppose it because it prevents babies…but…well, I guess I really don’t care. Your religion has no basis in law. It is not ‘religious persecution’ to require your insurance providers to provide it. Kindly get over yourselves. 

So, to the GOP and opponents of giving women access to a simple pill that makes our lives healthier and easier, I want you to know that the vagina is not a mysterious thing. Yet, it is a vital thing. If our vaginas aren’t happy, we ain’t happy. It is 2012, and the battle to have easy and affordable access to birth control should not be debated. It should be done, it should be passed. You can say anything you want about your reasons, your convictions, but it comes down to this: When your daughter becomes sexually active (which she will)….you’ll want her to have birth control. If your wife is at risk for ovarian cysts, you’ll want her to be able to take a pill that will help prevent them. Believe me. 

Unemployed: 1-27-12 and the Next Three Weeks

On Friday, January 27th, I entered my place a business. The whole week prior I’d been fighting with a Honda CR-V that had decided to be one of the rare Honda vehicles to putz out. I was excited in a strange way. This car had been my buddy in three cities, countless trips to campgrounds, music festivals, and back and forth between Auburn, my home town, and Big Rapids, my college town. It took me on my first big trip with my girlfriend, a trip that strengthened our relationship, but ended another. It took me to Detroit, where I would begin my life with her, our cats, and my shiny new bachelors degree in Television and Media Production. Yet, despite all this, I saw buying a new car as a step towards being an adult. My parents are saints and have supported me not only emotionally, but financially. With my full time job (est. November 2011), I was starting to be able to support myself. I was even working on paying back school loans. A new car was possible. I budgeted out my month and realized that I had plenty to make car payments. I had even stopped by a car lot that Wednesday.

I walked in to our workspace in Detroit’s vibrant and growing Midtown. Said hello to the couple that owned the business garage that my boss and I had settled in to a few months before and then went up the stairs to our office. On my mind were finances, cars, buying furniture, the inevitable move out of our apartment building, and just a general happiness that I was making it. I graduated in July of 2011, but I was already making just above 30,000 dollars. That is great in my field. I was doing work that I was enjoying for the most part. It was exciting, working in a small company (My boss and I) and getting to experience the city and it’s people in a different way than most. We were riding the wave of a new trend, a trend that wasn’t going to end very soon. I was feeling secure and optimistic.

With money on my mind, I was glad it was Friday. I was getting paid. I walked in and my boss already had his checkbook out, writing in his quick, ineligible hand. The amount was steady, and that thrilled me. Salary, it was this magical thing that I was enjoying immensely. I took the check as he handed it out to me.

“Thanks.” I pulled out my chair, a 60 dollar craigslist buy.

“I have some bad news.” I looked up. “I have to let you go.”


I just stared. I stared for about 30 seconds, minimum. A smile came and went about a dozen times. I knew he was serious, I knew this wasn’t a joke, and I knew he wasn’t pulling my leg. But still, I smiled and let out a soft breath of a laugh.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. I’m taking the company in a new direction. I’m so so—” I tuned him out after that. I didn’t want to hear how sorry he was. I didn’t want to hear some jargon about ‘new directions’. That doesn’t mean anything, ever. It’s just an excuse. In Michigan, a boss doesn’t have to tell you why they fired you. It can be for absolutely anything and they are not bound to even lie to you as an excuse. So  I guess I should have been thankful that he gave me a reason at all. But at the time, I wanted to hit him. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell him everything that was wrong about him. His arrogance, his lack of skill in his own field, how he’d fail without me and my creative eye, how I hoped he went bankrupt with his baby on the way. But I didn’t say any of that. I feel a bit guilty now about even thinking some of those things…and I feel a bit guilty at how I don’t feel guilty about some others of them.

I said nothing. I just sat down…and to the bruising of my strong-woman pride…I cried. I broke down. He was still talking.

“What you need to do now is to go home, and to get your resume ready.” I was back to wanting to hit him. I would have had my resume and demo reel ready if he had given me some warning. Given me a week, where I still had programs to edit and cut my demo reel. I wouldn’t have arranged to send my car to my brother-in-law’s family to do with what they pleased. I would have been ready. 

“I’ve been laid off before.” I’m sure he had been, but it didn’t make it any better. I took deep breaths, I was starting to panic. And when I panic, it usually ends up with me almost passing out from hyperventilating. I don’t take anxiety with any amount of grace. I finally managed to kick start my brain into making words.

“Was it something I did?” It sounded like we were breaking up. “Was it my work or–..” Tears choked me again and I just turned my face away.

“No, no.” I still don’t believe him. I went about picking up my personal items from my desk. A picture of my partner and I, my Rubiks Cube, a starting book on Flash, and two vintage cameras, a Super 8 and Kodak Brownie 8mm. I stuffed them all in my purse. He offered a box, kleenex, and I said no to all. I wanted nothing from him. I didn’t want any help he offered. I was already severing myself from his acquaintance. I didn’t care how many people he could introduce me to. I didn’t want to get anywhere because of his assistance. It was going to be because I did it. I was going to take my talent, a talent that he had reaped the benefits of since March the year before when I was just his intern.

My strength ended as I shuffled down the alleyway to get back to my car, and I took my phone out and dialed my mother at work. She always sounds surprised when I call, especially at work.

“I was just laid off.”

“WHAT?!” Mind you, my mother has never trusted my boss. He spent a lot of time in my internship and consequent contracted work jerking me around and not fulfilling promises. So, her anger did not surprise me. We discussed what to do with my car, mostly to get me calm enough to drive the 40 minutes home. It was all a blur until I walked into the apartment, my girlfriend still asleep. (It was only about 10:00, she doesn’t get up early if she works at noon).

“What are you doing home?” She sleepily asked.

“Got laid off.” It was the calmest I had said it yet, in my head and aloud. It was getting easier. But it did not stop me from breaking down again.

This was three weeks ago. I’m lucky that I had my rent already put away for January, and that my weekend getaway (planned before) with my girl won me 550 dollars at Greektown.  I’m lucky that my partner got plenty back in taxes so we can get groceries and still keep up on payments of everything. I’ve been applying for no less that 4 jobs a day almost every day. I’ve gotten 3 rejection letters…and only one interview. I just started applying to anything: in my field, not in my field, over qualified, under qualified, and some jobs that I wasn’t even certain what they did. I even applied for a cab driver job, and I vowed after my first cabbie job about 2 years ago that I’d never do it again. Desperation will make you not so compliant with your own personal problems.

I was only employed inside my field for a year. I cannot imagine how those who have worked in their field of expertise for 20+ years must feel when they get laid off. Well, I sort of can.

Lost, pathetic, angry, frustrated, depressed, worthless just to name a few of the emotions that I’ve got through the past few weeks….hell, the past half an hour writing this post. I am going to continue to chronicle my journey, because honestly…it’s the only thing I can do.

This Week: A little bird never hurt anyone

I know this is late, but I still saw it in the news the other day. It has to do with Madonna and M.I.A at the Superbowl.

Can anyone tell me why this nation gets it’s panties in knots when someone flips the bird….but not when they are writing about sexually on stage? Everyone knows that M.I.A flipped everyone the bird at the halftime show during the Superbowl, but what Madonna said about it made me almost laugh. Here is her statement according to the Washington Post

“I wasn’t happy about it,” Madonna told Ryan Seacrest in one interview. “I understand it’s kind of punk rock and everything, but to me there was such a feeling of love and good energy and positivity, it seemed negative.”

She said it was like something a teenager would do.

“It seemed out of place,” she said.

Lady, you are dancing around stage in almost your underwear, bumping and grinding with men half your age. You have really no place to be upset about someone getting into the song and flipping someone the bird.

It points to something in our society that is a bit off kilter. No one bats an eye when people are pretty much dry humping each other on stage, but someone giving an obscene gesture? How dare you. The middle finger is childish, I won’t disagree, but goddamn is it a satisfying one. I am near expert on road rage, so, the middle finger has been in my box of tricks for ages. But, in my opinion, form a vulgarity standpoint, it’s no worse than saying ‘shit’ or ‘damn’ on television. Have you noticed they can say ‘bitch’ now too? And do…a lot? M.I.A has never been known for being tame, and Madonna, you have a famous song about being a virgin. Can’t we all, collectively, decide that this is not the next Jackson Nipple Slip?

The Breakdown: Tim Te-bored: The douche side of prayer (Or, Chill Your Ego, Yahweh)

When you Google Tim Tebow, the first result is his website. The second is of course his Wikipedia page. This is not strange, but what I saw made me make a face that is usually proceeded by “Really? Really? Uuuugh.” I would have said these aloud, but everyone is concentrating on the game right now.


John 3:16 thou shalt not be a pretentious doucher


John 3:16 states “For God so loved the world, He gave His only begotten Son, and whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.” 

I have a lot of issues with Mr. Tebow. But let me make this clear: He is just a byproduct of our religious society. I make no assumptions about his nature. He could be a bastard or he could be a very nice young man. I just know that he brings to the forefront some serious problems about a religion seeped society.


You don’t have to be a brain surgeon.

Say you needed a plumber. Pipes burst, water everywhere, children crying and mass chaos inside your house. You would call a plumber. Yet, if you are looking for religious advice, you could ask absolutely freakin’ any religious person. Priests have to go to seminary, but I could go become an ordained minister right now if I wanted to. So, why is it that public figures often become this go-to on religion and from that become some sort of moral authority? It’s because simply, they are not dealing with facts. Everything about religions is open to interpretation so anyone could be correct. Tim Tebow could right just as much as Rick Perry could be right. And this is why neither are. This is what makes it faith and not fact and therefore can be dismissed as any sort of reasonable explanation.

God, please don't let my makeup run



Tebow prays as much as he can. Before, after, during a game and who knows how often during his day to day life. He sings gospels during practice and he generally is incredibly in your face with his faith. Or at least, he had allowed the media to bring it to the forefront. He sees himself as a hero, a idol for young children. That is—young, Christian children. The heavy focus on Tebow’s faith is such a positive light just enforces the blindness in this country. This inability for those of the Christian faith to see that they aren’t the only faith in this country and they are not as entitled as they think they are. Slowly, people are starting to ask ‘What if Tebow was Muslim?’ or ‘What if Tebow was Jewish?’ but I want to ask….’What if Tom Brady was atheist?”

I’m not of such atheist victim mentality to say that they’d call him evil, the devil and villify him at every turn. I’m saying he’d be famous what he’s good for; football. And that’s the way it should be.


Another thing he brings to light is what I keep saying about prayer. The logic behind it is so egotistical and entirely self serving. Tim Tebow prays to win the game, or at least, that’s what I have to believe seeing as he takes a knee before he begins to play. I’m doubting that he’s playing for peace in Syria, even though that’s exactly what you should pray for if you’re going to waste your time anyway. I was always taught all through church that your prayers are supposed to be selfless, and no bargaining. That’s what I remember. Tebow, in my eyes, is quite the egomaniac. He’s famous because he prays to win and does, everyone think it’s cute and amazing. It’s neither, but it is telling. It’s telling of the self-centered nature that is inherent in religion. It’s what happens when you follow the teachings of an egotistical God. God sometimes reminds me of one of those people that makes sure everyone knows they give to charity. (John 3:16)


When it all comes down to it, Tim Tebow could be a good man. He is fine in his craft and sport, and he is a Christian. That last part means nothing, it’s like saying ‘..and a brunette’. But in our country in these times, it automatically means he is infallible. That he is a good man. Saying someone is Christian only means one thing: They are someone who believes in an ancient, dogmatic faith centered around a Triune God, saints, and miracles.

Rant: Hey Netflix watchers, your comments suck

This is just a short post today.


When I get bored, I like to browse the instant movies on Netflix just to pass the time. I sometimes wander into the Gay/Lesbian movie section. There a few things that I always notice:

The number of gay male films
The plots of lesbian films
The reviews on the lesbian films.


I’m going to let that first one stand alone, and just say that it makes me pout.


The second one is my beef. These movies all have the same storyline! Listen, I am just looking for a romantic movie/drama with the same type of plot as a straight one! I don’t need fourteen different movies with this synopsis: Female 1 is married and unhappy. Enter Female 2, a sexy dangerous lesbo who takes her away from it all. Boring. Done, old. Why can’t I just have a sappy romance with two gay women in it? I even don’t mind the coming out stories. I think the reason why But I’m a Cheerleader and The L Word are so good is that, while being gay is a central focus…the romance still feels real.

That brings me to the reviews. Netflix users, if you are looking for lesbian sex scenes……watch porn…..or The L Word.

The Breakdown: It’s a Kind of Magic

I was wandering around Pinterest today (that place owns my soul now) and I came across this little gem:


I dig the snarky attitude, but the idiocy of it made my brain hurt. Now, I have the problem with the logic in this little graphic, but I also have a problem with people who post this kind of crap blindly without even thinking about it first. But first! Let me clarify for those who may have giggled or given a sage nod after reading this.

First, that is not the proper title. Reading that title I would assume I was going to read ‘Atheism: The belief that there is no higher being guiding our lives/The belief that you cannot verify or deny that there is a higher being/The belief that there is no god—and so on. A more proper title would be ‘Those Who Believe The Big Bang’. These two, though intersecting, are not directly connected. I have never personally met an Atheist who did not believe in the Big Bang, but I have only met a very small number of people.

Alright, assuming we have changed the title, let’s get into the meat of the graphic. The Big Bang Theory does not state that there was nothing. When they say ‘nothing’ they mean ‘not you and me or the universe as we know it now‘. The Big Bang Theory states that the universe was once a very hot and dense place which then expanded rapidly. The young universe then cooled and continued to expand and along the way began to slowly form subatomic particles. There are reasons for all of this, mostly just the law of physics, the laws of the ways hot and cold things behave.

The use of the word ‘magic’ bothers me particularly. The attitude is so belittling to science, but that’s the only way they could take the power from it. The next little section moves into Evolution. No where in the Theory of Evolution does it state something happened magically. It all happened because of small changes over the course of billions of years.

I think my biggest problem with this little nugget of information is that they are so condecending to scientific ideas. They call them ‘magic’ because whoever made this does not understand science, and they have a sense of arrogance for it. Just because you can’t comprehend it doesn’t mean it’s sorcery. Remember what it is you believe: You believe that there was nothing, but there was something in that nothing..and..well…read that below there.


Remember...this is what YOU believe

The Breakdown: Nurse Ratchet, disperse the Meds

This is a segment I shall call ‘The Breakdown’. This is a series of posts dedicated to pulling out the main problems I have with religion. It is a thinly veiled excuse for me to rant and rave in my godless heathen–ness…..


Wikipedia defines Schizophrenia as, ahem:

Schizophrenia (play /ˌskɪtsɵˈfrɛniə/ or /ˌskɪtsɵˈfrniə/) is a mental disorder characterized by a breakdown of thought processes and by poor emotional responsiveness.[1] It most commonly manifests itself as auditory hallucinationsparanoid or bizarre delusions, or disorganized speech and thinking, and it is accompanied by significant social or occupational dysfunction. The onset of symptoms typically occurs in young adulthood, with a global lifetime prevalenceof about 0.3–0.7%.[2] Diagnosis is based on observed behavior and the patient’s reported experiences.”


Enter Pat Robertson:


This is a man who constantly and confidently asserts that a god speaks to him. His reaction to things like natural disasters could be categorized as ‘poor’. (He usually blames the gays and feminists). Is this already sounding familiar?

I have a serious problem with this aspect of religion. It’s a society double standard. I could go on ranting and raving that the fairy in my flower pot has told me specifically that the one thing that will save this nation is Tuna. Lots and lots and lots of tuna. I’d be laughed and and I’m sure be called onto talk shows to be made fun of and eventually my video would go viral and a few months later, Good Morning America will do a follow up on me to see how I’m doing.

Now, if I had just said that God told me that Hurricane Katrina was caused by gay sex and women’s rights, well…I would be on to something there.

I know that Robertson and others like him are not a good example of all believers and all faiths. But he is just a cartoonized example of the smaller hypocrisies in belief. I was raised in a Catholic home. Catholics believe that at the Eucharist the body and blood of Christ is infused into a little wafer and some really cheap red wine and they consume him reverently. They are made fun of for this, and it’s seen as odd.



How can you believe in one mystical thing and not another? The basis of Christian faith, as I see it, is that some ghostly being in space magically fertilized a human female to give birth to his cosmic son (who was really himself) and then later sacrificed his son(himself) to save the world. And in between is a smattering of unbelievable miracles. The whole Bible is full of them! The creation, the flood, Moses parting the sea, Jonah and the Whale. But infusing a thin piece of bread with the essence of Jesus? C’mooon, that’s crazy.

It’s especially frustrating when they find the idea that the universe was created out of physics and science to be preposterous. I just don’t see how theirs is a better explanation. But the religious community thrives on ideas that cannot be proven. The very idea of faith is a rather mystical, abstract idea. Yet, they join in the masses at finding those who believe they were abducted or saw some version of Sasquatch/Loch Ness Monster/Chupacabra. You guys believe in an eternal paradise and some fiery pit that all the bad people go to. How is that not crazy? How is that  not just as outrageous? Alien Abductees have the same faith that you do, theirs just involves anal probes. At least they have some more compelling evidence* than you do.


Before you guffaw at some dope in a tin hat, please remember that you actually believe in the power of prayer, and that those among you believe they actually speak to a god in a heaven. It should serve to humble a little.



*I find the evidence for Alien life to be amusing at best, but hey….pictures are better than an ancient, outdated tome of archaic philosophies.


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