Christmas presents, like many aspects of Christmas, have often disappointed me. From time to time, I’ve had excellent ones – skincare sets, Sennheiser earphones and David Almond’s Skellig all stand out – but the tea towel of 2008 remains an all time low. In general, I like giving gifts more than getting them, and given I don’t enthuse over many parts of Christmas, I thought I’d write a post about this year’s choices. (I’m writing it here because, as a queer atheist in a traditional Christian family, my presents always have an agenda.)
This time two years ago, I wished someone at university a happy Hallowe’en. Then I realised I’d never done that before.
Alom Shaha, an ex-Muslim, writes in his memoir The Young Atheist’s Handbook about not being allowed to celebrate Christmas as a child. For me, the forbidden festival was October 31st. ‘As Christians’, a woman named Doreen told us in school, who also ran the Operation Christmas Child collections, ‘we don’t celebrate Hallowe’en.’
Remember Leadership is Male, the book I posted about at the start of June? As Christmas Eve approaches, another gem has revealed itself on my relatives’ bookshelf.
What’s the Difference? Manhood and Womanhood Defined According to the Bible is a similar volume by John Piper, and like Leadership is Male has a foreword by Elisabeth Elliot. (Because, of course, nothing endorsed by a woman is misogynous.) Once again, I read the book covered to cover – and, so that you don’t have to, thought I’d share some highlights.
Pleasingly, Friday’s post about the (further) goings on at LSE got lots of attention – it seems like we’ve now got a climate where if British student unions do things like this, word goes out. Whatever else happens, that’s encouraging.
Also encouraging is the ASH society’s response to the union, which went public this morning. Some people seemed worried the ‘Request denied’ message would be the end of this, but they’re fighting it. (And everyone knows I love a good fight.)
Sundas Hoorain, who’s at the London School of Economics and a member of its atheist group, just posted about them requesting an official name change. Rather than just ‘atheist, secularist and humanist’, its members voted to call themselves the Atheist, Secularist, Humanist and Ex-Muslim Society. (It’s overinflated, agreed, but it does spell ‘ASHES’.)
Reasonable stuff, one might have thought. Yet LSE’s student union have just denied the group’s request for this new name.
Remember the Pineapple named Mohammed, that made headlines at Reading university before the recent ex-Muslim spat at LSE? In case you don’t, their atheist society was kicked out of its freshers’ fair for displaying something so offensive.
I am an atheist, and an angry one. An anti-theist, if you like. A firebrand. Not only do I doubt a god exists, I think belief in one, and religion in general, is bad for our planet – inherently. In my writing and my day-to-day life, I’m actively engaged in trying to talk people out of it.
I like to call myself bad without God, and I’m happy to be labelled a reverse evangelist. If you want to say I’m strident, intolerant or shrill, I don’t really mind. I’ve no interest in respecting believers’ views – I hate religion, and want it gone. As such, I have a dark and terrible secret. In my spare time, I am an interfaith worker.
A few days ago Alom Shaha, who wrote The Young Atheist’s Handbook, teaches physics and is currently all over the place, did a talk on science and religion. I count myself more as a firebrand than anything else, and was surprised how emphatic a diplomat Alom was in his talk – PZ Myers and Richard Dawkins in particular came in for criticism. He also struck me, as I said in the Q&A, as advocating accommodationism; I’m fine with not everyone being firebrands, but I’m still pro-confrontation.
Sunday’s post on humanism has gained lots of attention, including the National Secular Society’s, who shared it on their homepage.
One issue I mentioned half way through that post, and that I’ve brought up a lot elsewhere recently, is that I want to focus my activities on skepticism – and in particular, atheism – not just on separating church and state. I differ in this sense from many humanists, but also from the NSS, which works ‘exclusively’ toward a secular state.
Don’t read this post as a criticism of the NSS – I share their aims, support their work and am fine with that being their focus. This post is just about why, personally, mine is different.
There’s recently been much discussion over A+/atheism plus, and whether or not it’s just humanism. (This was something discussed in the hangout I just did.) Here’s something James Croft, of the Harvard Humanists, said about it:
Many seem to be responding to the “Atheism+” language more readily to the language of “Humanism” … And that speaks to some problem with the “Humanist” brand which people like me should think about carefully.
I’d like to give a personal slant on that, and talk about what puts me off saying I’m a humanist. Specifically, I want to talk about differences I’ve experienced with humanists – some of which are differences over emphasis or personal goals, which is perfectly fine, and some of which involve them doing things I wish they wouldn’t.
I warn you now: this will be a long post.
