Wednesday, September 28, 2005

Goodie Grab Bag #1

Yo. First of all, this is either Pixel's idea or Seth's idea, haven't quite been following, but credit should be given where credit is blah blah blah. Anywho, since this idea seems to be a public thing, and since everything I put in here in either made up by me or credited, I thought I'd take a stab at a Goodie Grab Bag.

1: WHOA
2: What?
1: My fly was unzipped.
2: . . .
1: It's ok now.

The Baby Bottle Pop is not appropriate for children under age 3. -Cameron

1: I never wanted to do this any way. . .
2: No.
1: I always. . .
2: Don't say it.
1: Wanted to be. . .
2: I'm dead serious.
1: A. . .
2: STOP IT!
1: Lumberja *sound of gun being fired* *thud*
2: What a senseless waste of human life. . .

There is a peice of Babylon hanging out of your nose. . .

1: Your face is Uranus, it is covered with a layer of noxious fumes so thick that no one has ever been able to penetrate it.
2: Fuck you.

Your Vaginal passage is larger than the Hoover Damn. -Andrew

1: Seth, can I smell your hair?
2: um. . .
1: Just think about it is all I'm saying.

We're not dangerous, we live in Newton. -Olo

1: You make me sick
2: . . .
1: Sick with joy.

Now, now, now. . . Don't start hemorrhaging on me, nobody wants that. . .

1: I never wanted to do this anyways, I always wanted, to be a. . .
2: If you keep singing I will so kick your ass.
1: Oh? Well now it's your turn to be wrong! I had my ass surgically removed!

If the bible was a person, it would be a combination of Dan Quayl, Hitler, and that Clown that shows up uninvited at 2 year olds birthday parties to do a special performance.

Thank you for your time.

Sunday, September 25, 2005

Out In The Open At Last

The group blog I talked about earlier is finally public.

The official URL is www.kingdomofheathen.blogspot.com. This is quite awesome, and posts are streaming in from all of the contributors. Perhaps to many.

This is awesome, go there immediatley.

Friday, September 23, 2005

New Blog, and my trip

I'm tired. But school's up now and 6 hours of sleep is the best I can do. I have WAY to much to do, so I and Seth made a group blog. Kele and Pyroshark are in it too, if you don't know who they are then you seriously lack quail. Anywho, the URL is Godcandomyhomework.blogspot.com.

This will be an atheist blog, one made with 4 teens. It'll be good to not have to do everything for once.

I'm afraid that, assuming this works out, I'm not gonna be posting much here anymore, but everything I write will be accessable at the site.

It's not public yet, so don't expect anything for at least a week.



And on a personal note: I'll be going to Washington D.C. this weekend to report on the peace march Cindy Sheehan is doing. Prov says I should get myself arrested so I can report on the prison conditions and make it a double feature. He he he, Prov and his jokes.

Monday, September 19, 2005

Wow, The Bible Sucks. . .

So, I've been reading the Bible. . . After the recent blog swap over at the evangelical atheist, I decided that I knew much less than I had once beleived about religion. My philosophy is to Know Your Enemy, which brings me back to the Bible. With school and everything it's been slow going, but I have learned alot. And it's all pretty much made me more of an atheist.

Just looking at the Bible as a book, I don't particularly care for it. The plot meanders along its way, not particularly caring about the readers interest. The main character seems to greatly change from one chapter to the other, and indeed seems to be a totally different person on occasion, striking people one minute, giving them unequeled wealth the next.

Perhaps the greatest example of God's weakness of character is The Book of Job.

So God had an ultimate servant. And when I say ultimate, I mean super-best--vital-critical-absolutely definatley totally awesome. This was the cheese. In fact he was above the cheese, beyond it, over it. He was so far ahead of the cheese that, in comparison with it, he was beyond the horizon. His name was Job.

Now one day Satan and God were talking:

And the LORD said unto Satan "From where do you come?" So Satan answered the LORD and said, "From going to and fro on the earth, and from walking back and forth on it."

The the LORD said to Satan, "Have you considered My servant Job, that there is none like him on the earth, a blameless and upright man, one who fears God and shuns evil?"


So Satan, being the eternal ass that he is, says that Job is only loyal becuase God protects him. So God, being weak, essentially says "Go, knock urself out, make Job's life a living hell, but do not harm his body. See if he stops beleiving." And the Devil does so. By the time he's finished, Job's house is gone, his possesions are gone, his wife is gone, his 7 sons and 3 duaghters are gone, but he remains faithful. Whattta dope.

Then Satan and God talk again. God basicly makes fun of the Devil for failing, and Satan says it was just becuase Job wasn't physically hurt. So God once again crumbles, he lets Satan do whatever the hell he wants with Job, and Job gets totally screwed.

In the end Job does get his house back, his possesions a different wife, and 10 different children.

So what we can see from this is that, were I to beleive in God, the Bible itself says that serving him loyally ends up totally fucking up your life. It also shows me the hollow see throughness of the Christian religion. Well, I read part of the Bible, and boy does it suck.

Sunday, September 18, 2005

It's Worse Than I Thought. . .

Whoa. New polls. This is very sad.


http://www.pollingreport.com/educ2.htm

Saturday, September 17, 2005

On Hold

In the final days before school began, I was bored out of my mind.

I know this doesn't really have anything to do with atheism, but I'm still in the process of writing my next series of posts which I have tentatively dubbed "Wierd Orginizations." No, wait, actually I haven't even started writing it yet, damn homework.

Anywho, in my silent bored stupor, my DSL cut out. After two hours on hold and at least 20 minutes of pointless discussion with various customer service people, I finally figured out what was wrong: out of AOLs three or four DSL systems, which each had a 17,000 mile range, my house was 800 feet outside of all of them. 800 feet! *slicing motion*

Well, anyway, now I was bored and pissed, but I had something to write about. So, over the proccess of a few hours, I had came up with "On Hold." May I remind you that this, like everything else in my blog, is copyrighted. Enjoy.

On Hold
By Chris Annas-Lee


Philip Wigan has been on hold for two weeks.

It had happened one day in mid August when Phil had called up the DSL customer service. The DSL was beautiful, for the one day it worked. It was fast, reliable, able to play streaming videos quickly. Exactly what the commercial had said. But Phil had known it was impossible. Commercials, and this is a Law of Physics, are not correct. The product they advertise might be perfectly good, but the space time continuum simply cannot physically enable it to function properly. If it does work, as Phil’s had when it first arrived, the continuum calls out it’s armed forces to wait until the unsuspecting buyer leaves the house, then to club the equally unsuspecting product to pieces, patch it up with tape, and finally leave the house with bright smiles on their faces, happy in the knowledge of a job well done.
So, the day after the arrival and installation of the DSL, Phil returned from work to his study, and turned on the computer. He typed in the URL for the Boston Globe website, hit the enter key, and sat back in his chair. Nothing happened. Phil was as perplexed as a hacker who means to access Q:h.433294@e.com but instead ends up with Q:h.434105@e.com.
He hit the enter key again, rather harder than necessary. He waited, and in that silence, somewhere, a solitary bunny rabbit bobbed his head to Jazz music. Then, rather suddenly, nothing continued to happen. He began to get annoyed, but the thought that the DSL wasn’t working didn’t once cross his mind. This was because his subconscious refused to accept the fact that the DSL wasn’t working. Though the subconscious didn’t realize it at the time, it to was obeying another, though much less known rule of fundamental physics which states, in very clear and legible interstellar language: “” (It’s not my fault you people haven’t learned that language yet).
So, acting in a very normal, natural way under the current circumstances, and still steadfastly believing that it could not possibly be a problem involved with the DSL, Phil very slowly picked up his keyboard, and smashed it in two.
One quick trip to Best Buy later, during which time the continuum’s armed forces reentered Phil’s home and smashed and taped up his septic tank (but that’s a different story), Phil sat once again at his computer, with a new keyboard in front of him. The old, smashed-in-two keyboard would later be reincarnated as a very large grizzly bear, and Phil would much later be reincarnated as a salmon, but that, also, is a very different story.
Now Phil was calm. His subconscious had given up trying to keep rational thoughts out of his head, and had taken a much needed vacation to Cuba. So, there were a few fleeting ideas of things hovering in Phil’s mind as he hit the enter key again. There was a pause. At the end of that pause there was another pause, this one was slightly longer than the first. This was followed by another pause which about 10 seconds long; shortly afterwards there was a 50 second pause, then a short break as the pauses went out to the porch for a smoke, then the whole process began (naturally) at the beginning again.
Phil hit enter again. Then he hit his head with the palm of his right hand, swearing loudly, since the mouse was still clutched in it. After some more cursing, he explained his idea to the wall which, since he had hit himself, had begun to resemble Pamela Anderson (this image quickly faded, and he felt sad again). “You see,” he said to John Malkovich, who had just joined the party, but who would be leaving very soon, “I’ve been hitting the enter button all this time, I should hit go with the mouse.”
He did so. And there was a pause. . .
5,280 pauses later, he decided to call customer service. He had never liked calling customer service, though he had only done it seven times in his life. The first time had been rather pleasant. He had been in a rough place in his life, his wife had just left him and was demanding child support for a son that only she could see, and she was suing him for not paying it. His television had been acting up, and he had called the hot line. A nice woman had shortly shown him that the TV was, in fact, possessed by an evil fire breathing demon, and had shown him, step by step, how to remove it. He had thanked her vigorously, before turning off the phone and instantly feeling better. The next five calls were to the same woman, asking her to marry him. On the sixth, she told him he was crazy, and said she had gotten a restraining order against him.
So he was clearly not well disposed towards customer service, though a faint part of him hoped to meet someone there again. . .
Eventually, summing up all his courage, he phoned in. A gruff toned man with a faintly Indian accent told him that he would be put on with a technician shortly, and that he should hold. He has been holding ever since.
Phil’s phone is a corded phone, so he couldn’t run for help, even after his food supply of old M ‘n M crumbs had run out. He couldn’t get on the internet to email help, because the DSL didn’t work. And he couldn’t hang up.
He had tried, oh he had tried. But every time he was about to, the music stopped for a moment and a kind and warm woman’s voice informed him that his call was important to the company, and to her. She said it wouldn’t be long now . . . just a few minutes . . . technicians were otherwise occupied. . .
Phil had tried screaming at the woman to let him go, to let him live in peace. But it didn’t work. Over time he had developed a kind of relationship with the woman. Phil and the woman had never met; they were like two butterflies who had also never met. Eventually, Phil decided to go mad. Since Phil was already mad at the time of his decision, madness seemed perfectly reasonable to him. He developed an even deeper relationship with the woman. His call was important to her. He mattered to her. He was important. He mattered. . .
Now Phil had recently won a company golf tournament. Usually this would mean nothing, but Phil had no skill at golf, he had won by pure luck. His luck had been used up at that tournament. That’s the only explanation for what was about to happen. The DSL company he was calling went bankrupt. Everyone was fired. But the phone remained plugged in, still playing the slow and steady beat of Beethoven’s Ninth, over and over again.
He should have died. By every law of nature he should be dead. Every law, that is, except one. This law states: “When a person is put on hold by customer service, or any other company for that matter, he or she is rendered invincible. A bullet could pierce straight through the body of this person, a really big snake with huge pointy teeth could swallow him or her whole; it wouldn’t matter. While this person is on hold, hunger is irrelevant, pain unnoticed, and the world becomes a cloud of gray.”
Philip Wigan has been on hold for two weeks. He has nothing else to do, and there is no one at all to come looking for him. Without intervention, he will continue to hold. He will wait, solemnly, quietly. He will listen to Beethoven, he will long for the woman with the kind and warm voice. But the music will not end, and the woman will not come. . . Phil Wigan will be on hold forever.

Thursday, September 15, 2005

It's A Small World. . . In The Conventions Center

By now everyone knows about how the New Orleans Convention Center was flooded with Hurricane Katrina's survivors. But I had never imagined how horrible conditions had become inside, and how another world had developed on its own.

The Convention Center is not a shelter, but is being used as one. People were told to go there becuase there was no where left to go. And they came, lots of them came. Most were just scared people, happy to be alive, and expecting buses within the day. But among them were the gangs.

Before long there were territories within the Center, and shootings were common place. Derik McKay, a former prison guard now without a prison to guard, took up the job of protecting the innocent from the various gang wars that frequently erupted within the Center.

Days passed, help never came. But it's not as if help wasn't there. Cop cars passed by on an hourly bases, helicopters zoomed overhead, but none stopped for them. Apparently a few brave police officers were inside, but they were hopelessly outnumbered and outgunned.

As time wore on the conditions worsened. The pitch black chamber slowly aquired a horible stench as sewage piled up on the slick floor, and dead bodies accumulated against the walls.

Bush declared a National Prayer Day. Ha.

Micheal Brown didn't even know there were people there, he had to be told by an NPR reporter.

Maybe now help will get there? We'll see.

Saturday, September 10, 2005

GOD or NOT Carnival

There's a new carnival in town. The atheist vs. theist carnival God or Not begins on 10-03-05, and will have a new edition every month. This idea is absolutely brilliant, a place where theists and non-theists can finally meet face to face and decide once and for all, is there a god? or is there not?

www.godornot.com


This is most definatley Quail. Check it out.

Monday, September 05, 2005

My Beliefs

From now on this blog is officially Atheist.

Here are my beleifs, as an atheist (I'll probably make a page to put this in later on):

1. There is no god. That goes for the Christian God, the Jewish God, Vishnu, Anubis, Zues, Achilles, Chac, Epona, Dionysus, Geb, Horus, Jesus, Juno, Jupiter, Nammu, Oden, Pan, Rama, Yum Kimil, the Giant Tree Frogs of Kakarugi, or any other deity, semi-diety, fairy, elf, gnome, devil, angel, or mermaid.

2. Nothing is impossible if given enough study and research by Science. It was impossible to fly, we flew. It was impossible to deal death from half way across the planet, we invented the Trident Submarine. We landed on the Moon, we landed on Mars, things we've made have gone outside of this solar system.

3. Religion has kept mankind from accomplishing things. When people are allowed to experiment and do things differently than what doctrine dictates, progress will be made.

4. I thoroughly respect religion and, as long as it does not hurt people, I have nothing against people practicing their religion.

5. I recognize religions importance in the evolution of mankind. A also recognize that it was needed to explain the unexplainable, and that now that we have Science, it is no longer needed.

6. I follow the evidence. If someone can show me undeniable evidence of the existence of God, I will know that God exists, and therefore believe in him. And this has to be evidence that I cannot disprove, and that no one else can. However, I am so certain that there will never be any such evidence, that I will give 200 dollars to the person that can produce it.

There might be more, I discover new aspects of myself every day.

Fine, Be That Way

Well, this little experiment did exactly what it was supposed to. I now know that, contrary to my stat counter records, no one ever actually reads this blog. No one cares, ok, fine. Maybe someone will in future. If anything I realize that I'll have to work harder to get people here. Fine, I will. You'll see.

Saturday, September 03, 2005

Contest #1: Atheist Poems

Here's how this works. An Atheist Poem is a poem about atheism, or a lack of god. The poems don't have to be original, but if they aren't the person who wrote them will be credited. Besides being a fun thing to do, this is an attempt to guage how many people are actually into this site.

Requirments:

The poem must be either anti-religion or pro-atheist. Poems will be judged by relevance to this requirment, as well as general appeal.

Poems do not have to rhyme.

Though this is not neccesary, it would be nice if the poems are kept to a reasonable length.

Poems with foul language will be disqualified. Crap is all right, but anything beyond that won't be considered.

That's it. You can post the entry in a comment to this post, or you can email it to me at omniserpes@aol.com. The top 5 poems will be displayed, in order of goodness, in another post. When that will be I don't know, I have to see if anyone actually enters anything first. If this goes well there will be more Contests to follow.

Cheers.

On A Personal Note: DSL

America Online, in a desperate attempt to keep the users that haven't abondoned it, has released a new, and very good, deal. For all faithful users, like myself, there will be DSL. But, of course, there's no one to install it. That job lies with the user.

Just yesterday the package arrived. My mother pointed out that "Perhaps someone should install it." then she quickly left for 3 hours. I was bored, so I got it out and hooked up the system.

And my goodness it is fast. Not that it matters, since the evangelical atheist is the only site I really spend alot of time at anyway. But I click on the buton, and I'm there.

Those of you that actually have large reserves of money, and therefore have broadband, are probably laughing at me right now. Well, go dump some gasoline over yourselves and have a cigarette.

I'm very proud of myself for installing it. I just thought I should put it out there. . .