Serving Up Maggots as an Appetizer for Atheism

If you serve up maggots anywhere during a conversation, like during a meal, it’ll be all your guests remember later.

I recently started a temporary day job as an instructional designer. On my first day, I was granted a cubicle. As someone who has spent most of her life self-employed or, for a short while, in an office*, a cubicle is a novel experience indeed.

I’m still learning the rules of cubicle life. I’ve already learned that whenever anyone in an adjacent cubicle begins a conversation, it’s commonly understood that everyone in the vicinity must drop everything he or she is doing to eavesdrop. It’s also my understanding that it is proper to later pretend that these conversations were completely inaudible to all but the intended parties. Through our mutual pretending, we maintain the illusion that we all have “real” offices and “real” privacy.

Apparently, this tenet of cubicle etiquette doesn’t always apply.

A few days ago, I was sitting in my cubicle, merrily designing instruction**, when I heard the Ira Glass-esque voice of a coworker sitting in a neighboring cubicle drawl, “you know Kelly***, there is no afterlife.” At this, my ears perked up. While I personally might try to not introduce rationalism with death, I’m always interested identifying fellow rationalists. He sounded like a good candidate. “There is no heaven, no hell, no god,” Ira-sound-alike continued. A fellow atheist too! I continued to listen, not even pretending to type anymore. “When you die, your body will rot and be eaten by maggots. Life really has no point.” Oh, I thought. He’s a maggot guy.

The conversation continued, intermixed with a lesson in Adobe Illustrator. I was less interested in listening at this point. I’m a realist. I’m okay with the fact that, were I to be buried****, my body would indeed decay, possibly with the assistance of some friendly maggots. However, I’m not so into unnecessarily dwelling on the gruesome. “Hi! I’m an atheist! Want some maggots?” is possibly not the best pick-up line ever invented.

Later that afternoon, Kelly wandered over to my cubicle and grumbled, “Oh, I’m just having a great day—Ira told me I’m going to be eaten by maggots and that there isn’t any point to life. Did you hear?” Apparently, this was a case when I was supposed to ignore cubicle tenet number two and acknowledge that I had, indeed, been eavesdropping. I nodded. “My mother raised me as a Catholic,” Kelly continued, “she’d just be so upset to hear something like that.” I nodded again. “Why would he believe something like that?” she asked.

I took a deep breath as I prepared to out myself. “Well, actually, I’m also an atheist. However, I think Ira’s being a bit of a nihilist.” I explained how the lack of an afterlife just makes life sweeter—since we only get to try once, we should do as much with our lives as possible. I explained that, while I didn’t believe there was a prescribed “meaning” of life, we make our own meaning through social compacts and personal values. “Oh,” Kelly said, blinking a few times as she absorbed this. Then she smiled, “That’s really so much nicer. I’m so glad I met you, Amanda,” and wandered off singing***** a random show-tune I’d never heard before.

Really, I don’t know the background or circumstances of Ira and Kelly’s conversation and could be grossly misrepresenting them both. Such is the danger of blogging about those you’ve only known for three days. However, either way, I shall make a suggestion for introducing atheism to others: good conversations, like good recipes, call for absolutely no maggots.

Cross posted at The Atheist Mama.

* with REAL walls!

** after all, that is what we instructional designers design

*** not her real name

**** I don’t plan on it—I might as well donate it to science and let someone get some use out of it.

**** this is not an exaggeration for literary purposes—she really does sing while wandering around the office. It’s her thing.

Sacrificing for the Relationship

Many moons ago, I dated a vegetarian. Many moons ago, I was a bloodthirsty meat-eater. But, I was also a hormone-crazed young man, so whatever she wanted was fine with me. No meat? I'll deal. So I sacrificed.

These days, I'm a vegetarian. This actually makes things easier. I'm still in the minority on other things though. I'm an atheist. I have to steer clear of those catholic school girls. (also because I'm atheist). So I sacrifice. Actually, that has worked out with my wonderful current significant other. She's great. atheist, vegetarian, and sometimes, a Catholic school girl. Life is good...

I guess I wouldn't be blogging if everything was good. See, here's the deal. Sometimes, I need a pencil, detergent, some Wheaties, a bike chain, the new Economist magazine, two staples, tires for the truck, and a wireless router. Back in the old days, I would set out for the one-stop shopping paradise: Wal*Mart. I love me some Wal*Mart. Everything I ever wanted and didn't know it. Awesome.

However, apparently, my new girl is a NonWal*Martitarian. Just my luck. So now I sacrifice. Sometimes I have to go to two, three, or even four different stores to shop. It's tough, but these are the tradeoffs I have to make.

The Friendly Atheist... publishes a book!

I Sold My Soul on eBay, written by Hemant Mehta of Friendlyatheist.com, will be available April 17th, 2007. Hemant is fabulous; I had the chance to hear him speak briefly as well as talk to him in more depth at meals at the recent American Atheists convention in Seattle. I’ve preordered his book on Amazon.com and hope to provide more informed recommendation (of the book, rather than just of Hemant) once I’ve had a chance to read it.

Abstinence education doesn't work, US report shows (again)

Abstinence-only education programs meant to teach children to avoid sex until marriage failed to control their sexual behavior, according to a U.S. government report.

Teenagers who took part in the programs as elementary and middle school students were just as likely to have sex as those who did not take part in them, the survey found.

- by Maggie Fox

Writing Returns, Writing Privileges, & Rational Signs

After attending American Atheists’ convention in Seattle last weekend, I have approximately 43.83 new topics to blog about. So, I’m officially back. While life hasn’t really calmed down since my post about overflowing cups and the like, I miss writing. I’ll be around mainly on weekends, as I seem to have acquired a day job in addition to my soon-to-be-sold business… but I shall be around, writing and blog-browsing, once again.

For those who haven’t noticed, I oh-so-benevolently granted my significant other posting privileges on the blog a few months back. Really, seeing as he granted me living-in-his-apartment-privileges about a year ago, blog-sharing seems only fair, eh? Posts signed by dday76 are by Jason. Posts signed by aviaa are by Amanda. Certainly, we could be logical and just use our actual names to sign posts, but where is the fun in that?

On a terribly exciting note, after a world-wind look at condos around Boston, we decided on one after discovering a Darwin fish on a car parked at the building next to ours. As Jason postulated, “a non-existent force of the rational universe was sending two atheists a purely physical sign that this was the place.” We’re heeding the sign and should be closing at the end of April and moving sometime in June.

Anyway… more soon! It’ll be great to catch up with everyone again!

What to do?

"I don't want to be saved, I want to be spent," Fritz Perls.

So, today, the topic is about time management. We atheists have no delusions of an afterlife, we have a wonderful life to focus on. Is it ethical to waste our short lives? Is it ethical to waste our lives on non-developmental tasks? On the other hand, is it ethical to rabidly seek productive activity every second? What is the balance between personal development and recreation? How does our example to and our appeasement of others fit into our ethical up-rightness?

I recently read a book called Mastery by George Leonard. I would not recommend it as a whole, but it did have an excellent chapter on "Getting Energy" that focused on the importance of effective living. The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People also has a lot of good advice on the matter.

One thing I would suggest as a minimum standard is to do an activities audit and budget. Financial planners often suggest cataloging everything we spend money on. Knowing we only have a certain amount of money in the bank, we are careful to ensure we have the money we need. Time is a commodity as well, and for many of us, it is a commodity more scarce than money.

Do you spend 4 or 5 or 20 hours a week watching TV? How about sleep? How about the 12 blogs you like reading? Then start to think about all the things you've been meaning to do and how nice it would be to finally get to do them. As much as you might enjoy "Idol," how much would you rather lose 10 or 20lbs by walking during that time? These trade-offs can be very exciting. Cut off the most frivolous 10% or so and expand the most fulfilling 10%.

I recently had the cable turned off. Not to mention the calming effect it had on my nerves, I freed up several hours each week. That was just the first step. I feel like I'm honoring my life more and extracting even more enjoyment out of the life I have.

Jason

Abject Disappointment with my 24 Hours of Theism

Dear Bible ministry of prayer people,

A few days ago, I received an envelope from you containing the following objects: a paper prayer mat, a cheerfully underlined “God’s Holy Blessing” type letter, and a page of testimonies from those who followed your instructions and received either large amounts of money or other blessings (mostly large amounts of money).

This was not, however, the first time that I have been thus selected. I received my first prayer mat and associated papers in my mailbox approximately five years ago. I was quite surprised to learn God was planning on bestowing such wonders upon an atheist. However, the lure of financial gain and other holy treasures gave me pause, and I decided to give this “believing” stuff a try, at least for the 24 hour period specified in your letter. I followed your instructions and happily awaited my rewards.

I must say I was sorely disappointed for my effort, and feel that God must not, indeed, be as interested in bestowing his glory upon me as you led me to believe. I shall outline my disappointments for you, so you may fully understand the degree of God’s failure to meet my needs. First, I must call your attention to a section of page two of your letter. It reads:

Pray for my family and me for…

( ) My Soul
( ) A Closer Walk with Jesus

etc, etc… a bunch of other stuff that, as a nontheistic sort, didn’t interest me so much… but then….

( ) Confusion In My Home

!!!!!

I was terribly excited to see that I could ask the Lord for confusion in my home, something that I’m sure everyone covets (or maybe just prays for, seeing as coveting tends to be on the no no list). However, after dutifully checking the box and sending the letter back, I find that my household situation has only gotten less confusing! With the departure of a significant other (now an ex-significant other), his mistress, and his dog almost three years ago, I find myself in a significantly less confusing and generally more peaceful household. Why would God so ignore my pleas for chaos? WHY?

As for financial gain, with the said departure of ex, I find myself with $30,000 of student loan debt. Seeing as I did not have $30,000 of student loan debt three years ago, I must only conclude that either God hates me (this would really be rather harsh, as I did return the highly valuable paper prayer mat you enclosed with your last letter), or God has trouble telling the difference between positive and negative numbers. As a math tutor, I would be happy to help with the latter, but not if I would be smote for my efforts. Just how much pride cometh before fall? Does the joy that comes from possessing a more thorough knowledge of integers than God count as undue pride?

I digress. After my fruitless attempts at following your instructions, I think it’s time to resort to new methods of persuasion. Thus, I shall hold your prayer mat hostage until God does one of the following: (a) grants me my two (just two! I’m not greedy!) wishes of financial gain and household confusion (b) publicly admits that he doesn’t exist (c) signs up for math tutoring. Under the circumstances, I feel my requests are perfectly reasonable. I shall be eagerly awaiting God’s reply.

Yours truly,

Disappointed Ohio Atheist