CBEB’s

When I blogged about Dan K. Thomasson’s wasteful griping the other day, I mentioned that there are plenty of legitimate things about which a person can complain, but what’s on television isn’t one of those things. I then started thinking about stuff that makes me piss and moan. Here’s a list of some of my Pet Peeves, in no particular order… although the first one will be the biggest one.

1) People who feel they’re obligated to be rude to “the help”: Anyone who’s ever worked in the service industry will know what I’m talking about. There’s a certain type of customer who feels that just because they’re spending their hard-earned money on a meal, they’re not just entitled to be obnoxious, they’re required to act like assholes. As a youngster, I worked in bars, restaurants and coffee shops, so I’ve had to deal with these people up close and personal. I’ve never quite understood the mentality behind this behavior, but my guess is that it stems from some sort of irrational elitism. Elitism isn’t always a bad thing, but people who to the philosophy of “if you don’t like being treated this way, you should have become an investment banker” are more irrational than they are elitist.

I never spat in anyone’s drink or otherwise sabotaged anyone’s meal or beverage. I think that’s just as wrong as being rude, if not more so. My way of dealing with it was to always give the customer the bare minimum of service. A customer at a bar ought to be able to get the hint when the bartender is taking the time to measure his shots to ensure that an extra splash of bourbon doesn’t wind up in a drink.

I learned that trick while working at a coffee shop in San Francisco. The place also sold ice cream, and one night an unruly customer came in and immediately started in with the overbearing asshole routine. The manager of the place was serving her, and he was being completely professional towards her behavior. The woman demanded a sample of almost every flavor before settling on a small scoop of strawberry. In a voice oozing with sincerity, the manager asked, “Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer the vanilla?” She stuck with the strawberry, and when the manager served it to her, she started accusing him of ripping her off. A small scoop is four ounces of ice cream, and she demanded that he weigh it. With the utmost courtesy, he placed the ice cream on the scale, and it weighed something like 4.2 ounces. “I’m terribly sorry about that, ma’am,” said the manager as he removed the extra two-tenths of an ounce from her ice cream. Before he could hand it back to her, the customer had stormed out the door without saying a word. We laughed about that for days.

Even worse than working at a job and having to deal with rude customers is going out to eat with people who are uncivil to waiters. I’ve gone to restaurants with seemingly well-mannered people who turned into sociopaths as soon as they picked up a menu. It’s really unnecessary and embarrassing.

2) Music as a social status indicator: There’s only one valid reason for listening to any particular music, and that’s because you like it. Someone might like a band because a friend or relative is in the group, but that shouldn’t really obligate anyone to like a band.

If you think you’re sticking it to the man because you listen to Rage Against the Machine, you’re an idiot. If you think you’re part of some underground scene because you listen to Linkin Park, you need to die. Now. If you think your favorite punk singer sold out because he’s made enough money to buy a house, you’re a selfish prick.

The worst of all, however, is the middle-aged hipster who thinks he’s on the cutting edge of the music scene because he’s bought an album by a “new” artist. A few years ago, every balding father of three who crossed my path thought they were the shit because they had just bought a Norah Jones CD. Nothing against Norah Jones, but if you think owning a Norah Jones CD makes you cool, you’ve probably never been cool in your entire life.

3) The “if you don’t vote, you can’t complain” myth: This one really annoys me, especially when I hear it coming from an atheist. It’s a special pleading fallacy, much like a Christian saying that you can’t criticize Christianity or the Bible unless you’ve read the Bible in the original Hebrew or Greek. I realize that most people who don’t vote are simply apathetic, but not voting is also an effective way of protesting against the political process. I vote on occasion - mainly on the local level - but I long ago came to the realization that the overwhelming majority of candidates place the interests of the voters far below the interests of whatever political party they serve. When your dinner choice is a plate full of hot shit, or a plate full of cold shit, the logical choice is to go without dinner.

4) Youth Pastors: I’ve met several bona fide ministers in my life and most of them were decent, interesting people. Without exception, however, every “youth minister” I’ve ever met has been an irritating dickhead. They refer to everyone as “guy” or “bro”, and they make all these clumsy attempts to convince you that Christianity is “rad”: “Hey guy, I see you’re wearing a Jimi Hendrix t-shirt. I guess you think dying young is cool. Let me tell you about another rocker who died young; his name is Jesus Christ”. You know who else is going to die young? You, if you don’t shut the fuck up, asshole.

A friend of mine had an encounter with a tag team of youth pastors, and they kept rattling off the names of all these Christian metal bands who supposedly blow Slayer out of the water. My buddy had a great response: “All those guys ever sing about is Jesus; at least Slayer break up the devil stuff with songs about Nazis and serial killers”.

The youth ministers I’ve dealt with tend to be raging control freaks, too. In a group setting, it’s like they have to constantly be the center of attention, even if it means butting into private conversations. You might be talking about some obscure foreign film that hasn’t yet been released on DVD, and Joe Youth Pastor hears nothing but the word DVD and interrupts the discussion with, “Hey guys, you should come down to the Worship Center and watch The Passion of the Christ on the big screen… it’s awesome!”

The whole center-of-attention thing is a really primitive recruitment technique. They’re simply gambling that someone in the room lacks any sense of belonging, and will interpret the youth pastor’s affectation of friendliness as, “this guy cares about me and thinks I’m an interesting person”. Luckily, it only works on people who are too stupid to realize that someone who genuinely cares about you will usually make a sincere effort to actually listen to what you’re saying. Unfortunately, there are a lot of stupid people.

5) Profanity as “bad” language: I’ve got no problem with people who don’t use profanity and don’t like to read it or hear others use it, but if you’ve got a problem with profanity, be smart about it. There’s nothing inherently “bad” about profanity; “bad” language is saying “irregardless”, “that’s a mute point” or conflating “imply” and “infer”. If you don’t like others swearing at your dinner party, tell your guests not to use vulgar language. If you don’t want anyone swearing around your children, tell people not to use inappropriate language around the toddlers. To say profanity is “bad language” implies that it should never be used, and that’s just not true. When the lights go down, your girlfriend doesn’t want you to perform cunnilingus, she wants you to suck her pussy. Don’t be a prude about it.

Bonus Grammar Pet Peeves: I’m generally willing to overlook misspellings, but if English is your native tongue, there are some errors that are inexcusable. Overall, I try to take a forgiving attitude towards typos. There are some people with disabilities who have a hard time spelling, even with a spell-checker installed on their computers. On the other hand, some people ought to know better.

• Typo Pouncing: It’s one thing to correct another person’s spelling, but when you act like someone’s argument falls apart because they misspelled the word “Wednesday”, you come off looking like a nitpicking douchebag. This was the main reason I quit posting at the old Internet Infidels Discussion Board - this seemed to be a standard debate tactic used by otherwise intelligent atheists. It’s really petty, and it’s a hell of a lot more immature than a misspelled word.
• It’s “its”, not “it’s”: It’s one of the simplest rules in the English language: if it denotes possession, there’s no apostrophe in the word “its”. If you want to remember the rule backwards, the only time there’s an apostrophe in those three letters is when you’re contracting “it is” or “it has”.
• “Freedom of Speach” is “Bad Grammer”: Since I frequent a lot of blogs dealing with First Amendment issues, this one is quite common. If you value “Freedom of Speach”, please take the time to learn how to properly spell the word “speech”. Simple mnemonic device: You don’t ever see it misspelled as “Freadom of Speech”, do you?
  If you’re going to complain about the way other people write, your complaints will have a little more credence if you don’t gripe about “bad grammer”. If your coke dealer is putting his thumb on the metric scales, he’s a bad grammer; if he can’t form a coherent sentence, he might have bad grammar.
• Don’t be rediculous: I guess the common “re” prefix trips up a lot of people, but if someone is acting “rediculous” were they merely being “diculous” the first time?

This is, of course, only a partial list. There’s all sorts of crap out there that pisses me off… I’ll get to it eventually, I’m sure.

This story has been circulating around the blogosphere, although I forget where I read it first. Some of you may already be aware of Wesley Crawford, the Mississippi high school student who wrote a letter to his local paper complaining about religious assemblies at his school. As one might expect, the situation has only gotten uglier since the letter was published.

The Mississippi Atheists blog is soliciting letters of support for Mr. Crawford, as the threats have already started. If you’d like to offer some encouragement to this brave young man, he may be reached at this address: wesleycrawford *at* tds *dot* net. Be polite, and keep in mind that he’s not an atheist (although that soon might change once he’s received enough of that “Christian love”).

Also - and readers might like this - The Hattiesburg American has a message board, and Mr. Crawford’s letter has become a hot topic. The first several pages are pretty reasonable, but the last 5 or so pages have some good stuff. The thread has already provided a new addition to the RTQG.

The most ridiculous argument on the thread is the “he didn’t follow proper procedure” argument. There’s no chain of command for public school students; was he supposed to report the Church & State violation to his homeroom Student Council representative? The hall monitor, perhaps? I also like the “a 9th grader couldn’t write such an eloquent letter” arguments. If you’re an adult who lends any credence to creationism, then it might boggle the mind to think that a high school freshman can write a coherent letter to the editor, but the rest of us know that there’s some pretty smart young’uns out there.

This case promises to be interesting, and it looks like it might get ugly. I certainly hope that young Mr. Crawford doesn’t back down in the face of threats and harassment. Crap like this is common throughout the American South, so maybe his bravery will inspire other students to make a stand.

Yesterday I used the phrase “three thumbs up”, a phrase that I’ve heard before, but it might have a different meaning to other people. In my family, the phrase “three thumbs up” holds special meaning…

Here’s the deal: my maternal grandfather was born with two thumbs on his left hand. Not two fully opposable thumbs, but a full thumb with the extra digit sprouting out of the second joint of his proper thumb. As kids, we would express satisfaction by saying, “Grandpa would give that three thumbs up”.

My brother met his first wife in England, so when she moved to the states we had to warn her about Grandpa. Not that he was some sort of lunatic letch, but Grandpa was definitely a grouch. For example, the mere mention of Nacogdoches would for some reason send my grandfather on a rant about what a shitty singer George Jones is. The family’s favorite Grandpa quote occurred when a commercial for a Jim Nabors album aired on TBS:

You know, he might be as queer as a three-dollar bill, but goddamn! that sonofabitch can sing.

But I digress… my brother, his fiancée and I were driving around looking at Christmas lights, and my brother was giving his future wife the lowdown on Grandpa. When he told her about the two thumbs on his left hand, he added, “Grandpa used to hitchhike around the country, and when he stuck out his thumb, two trucks would pull over”. I had to think about it for a few seconds, then I nearly passed out from laughing.

The next day I told the joke to my little brother and he got really pissed. It was sick and wrong and in really bad taste, and I had better not tell that joke to mom. Of course, I immediately told the joke to mom, and she laughed. She even told her mom, who loved the joke. I don’t know if Grandpa ever heard it, but he probably would have laughed, too.

A few years ago, I was walking to the corner store and a neighbor pulled over his car and was about to ask me if I needed a ride when my brother drove by and pulled over, too. I opted to take a ride from my brother, and as I got in the car I said, “Damn, now I know how Grandpa felt when he hitchhiked”.

The next time I use the phrase “three thumbs up”, I’ll include a link to this post so that people will know what I’m talking about.

A tip of the headgear to Cephus at Bitch Spot for this one.

I’ve been a fan of Scarlett Johansson ever since I saw Ghost World. She was also in a sweet little indie film I liked, Manny & Lo. For some reason, she’s always reminded me of Lauren Bacall, and anything that reminds me of a Big Sleep-era Lauren Bacall is a Good Thing.

Now I have even more reason to appreciate Scarlett Johansson. It’s been rumored that the Church of Scientology held “casting calls” in order to find a bride for their batshit crazy poster boy, Tom Cruise. Ms. Johansson briefly considered the offer, but once she realized that church membership was part of the package, she gave them the ol’ “Thanks, but no thanks“. Good on you, Scarlett!

Those of you who share my absolute loathing of Scientology might also be interested in knowing that actor Tom Berenger gets three thumbs up* from The Church Burnin’ Ebola Blog. Supposedly, Tom had no problem with his wife’s involvement in the Church of Scientology, but once she tried to convert their children, he kicked her to the curb faster than you can say “clear“:

According to papers Berenger filed in divorcing his second wife, his marriage ended when she became “totally involved” in Scientology and tried “brainwashing” their children into the cult.

So pop that copy of Platoon in the DVD player (or better yet, The Substitute), put some popcorn in the microwave, and do like Scarlett Johansson does: Tell Scientology to go get fucked.

* remind me to explain this later. It’s an inside joke in my family…

While my computer was down, I was unable to read some of my favorite blogs, so I missed this entertaining post from Ed Brayton at Dispatches from the Culture Wars where he reminisces about a Country Club standup gig gone horribly wrong. Not that I can top Ed’s tale, but his story reminded me of a few Country Club gigs of my own. This is the first of a three part series about my experiences at Country Clubs. This first episode is actually kind of happy.

Several years ago, I used to play bass in an R&B band. We played all the usual stuff; some John Lee Hooker, Otis Redding, several Willie Dixon tunes (we did a pretty decent version of “You Can’t Judge a Book By Its Cover”, in my opinion), Rufus Thomas’s “Walkin’ the Dog”, and of course, “Mustang Sally”.

What separated us from millions of bands around the world who probably have identical set lists is that the frontman is a local judge. In addition to a singing judge, the guitar duties were handled by a municipal prosecutor and a civil trial attorney, and the original sax player was a local talk radio host.

Most of the guys in the band had pretty busy schedules, so we didn’t gig too often. When we did, it was usually for some sort of charity or political event. That usually meant no money, but I’m one of those weirdos who will play for the sake of playing… as long it’s fun. The “as long as it’s fun” qualifier will come into play in future editions of Tales from the Country Club…

I guess there’s a certainly novelty about having a band fronted by a judge play at your party, because we got quite a few gigs playing people’s 110th birthdays, 75th wedding anniversaries, Grandpa Learned to Program the VCR celebrations… the type of events hosted and attended by people who would normally turn off the radio and complain about “that damn negro music” if they were to hear an actual Rhythm and Blues tune. Most of these gigs took place at Country Clubs.

I hadn’t been with the band too long when someone paid an extraordinary amount of money at a charity auction to have the band play at the venue of their choosing. If I remember correctly, it was something like 3500 bucks. I have never played in a band that got paid that kind of money, and seeing that the money went to charity, that still holds true.

Although the band had a pretty steady lineup, sometimes the personnel shifted temporarily. One guitarist might be out of town for a trial, and we had a drummer whose wife wasn’t always amenable to the thought of her husband having fun, so every now and then someone would fill in on a one-show basis.

The lady who won the auction contacted us to let us know that she wanted us to play at a party she was having at Corpus Christi Country Club. She gave us plenty of notice, but the week before the gig, everything went wrong. Guitarist “A” had to be in California for a trial. Guitarist “B” had to go out of town for a wedding. The drummer was out of town on a job, too. This was before we had a sax player, so that meant only two people would be available for the show: the singer, with me backing him up on bass.

We had already told the woman that we could do the gig, so we were in quite a predicament. It would have been terribly bad form to ask her to reschedule her party, so we decided to wing it. The judge’s 14 year-old son sat in on drums, one of the guitarists’ teenage sons filled in on guitar, and someone in the band managed to recruit some guy as an additional guitarist. I think it was one of those “friend of a friend” scenarios, because years later, none of the guys in the band could remember who the substitute was or who recommended him.

Because all this happened on such short notice, we only had time to squeeze in one practice session. As result, we worked out less than half the songs in our set list, and even some of the ones we practiced were kind of “iffy”. We decided that come showtime, we would offer the party’s host a free gig at a later date - promising her that at least four-fifths of the bands’ members would be in attendance - if she wasn’t completely satisfied.

The story thus far sounds like a sure-fire recipe for disaster, but surprisingly, the gig went great. In fact, of all the shows I did with this band, this one is definitely in the top 5. Once the crowd had a few drinks in their bellies, you couldn’t keep them off the dance floor. Most of the people in attendance were in their forties or fifties, but not once did they tell us to turn it down; in fact, we were told to crank it up. We basically did the same set three times, including three 15-minute versions of “Stormy Monday Blues”, but no one complained. I don’t think anyone in the audience knew the actual title to an honest-to-goodness R&B song, so we didn’t have to deal with any requests that couldn’t be honored (no one yelled out “play some Skynyrd!”, either).

The only real problem during the gig was that the drummer was really sloppy… and I mean sloppy. His playing was passable, but he dropped a stick at least once during each song. Fortunately, we had noticed this when we rehearsed, so we just made sure he had plenty of sticks at his disposal. Other than that, a good time was had by all. In fact, we didn’t even have to do that free gig, because the host thought we did a great job.

When the rest of the band got back in town, they were amazed to hear that the gig went so great. One of the guys was seriously anticipating having to deal with an irate auction winner when he got home.

A few weeks later, we played another gig at C.C. Country Club, this time for another local judge’s birthday party. The judge having the birthday is actually a really nice guy, but the show was a disaster. I think it was his wife who asked us after every song if we could turn it down “just a little bit”, which I’m pretty sure was her polite, little-old-lady way of saying, “damn negro music”.

This was a high-dollar catered affair, so there was this huge spread of great food for the partygoers. We were told to help ourselves to some food, but I was so pissed off that I told the other guys in the band, “I refuse to break bread with these assholes”.

So ends Volume One of Tales From the Country Club. I realize that some readers may be disappointed that this one was relatively positive, but fear not; it only gets worse from here… stay tuned.

“I’m too stupid and lazy to configure the V-Chip on my television”

Now the longer version… Thomasson’s idiotic column was printed in today’s local fishwrap. Here’s the Letter to the Editor I’ve sent in response:

Was it a slow day for news, or what? The 761 words in Dan K. Thomasson’s March 11 column, “TV overkill: A serial murderer in prime time”, could have easily been summed up with one simple sentence: “I’m too lazy to configure the V-Chip on my television.”

Every single television set sold in the United States since January 2000 has been required by Federal Law to include the V-Chip. In the time it took Thomasson to write his ill-informed column, he could have consulted his TV’s instruction manual and solved his problem with a few simple steps.

Thomasson strikes me as the curmudgeonly type who likes to rail against all this highfalutin technology. If that’s the case, he might be pleased to know that virtually every child in this country comes equipped with some old-fashioned technology known as a “parent” (sometimes referred to as “guardian”). Mr. Thomasson seems unaware of the concept, as he wants to place all the responsibility for what children watch on the shoulders of the networks.

What will Thomasson write about next? How those new-fangled “Horseless Carriages” are scaring his mules? Those silly Beatles with their long hair and loud music?

I was going to close with the suggestion that Thomasson read a book instead, then recommend a novel by Jeff Lindsay. That would have brought my word count past 200, and I doubt if readers would have gotten the joke. (FYI, Jeff Lindsay wrote Darkly Dreaming Dexter, the novel on which the TV series is based.)

I realize that The Grumpy Old Man Who Complains About Everything is a staple of newspaper opinion pages, but with so many legitimate things to complain about, Thomasson’s column just comes off as the whining of a really stupid person who wants to assault an easy target.

(a tip of the headgear to my brother for giving me the heads up on this)

If you’re an atheist who’s spent more than 10 minutes on the internet, you’re probably aware of Ray Comfort’s infamous “The Atheist’s Nightmare: The Banana” video. The classic clip comes from Season One, Episode Seven of Ray Comfort and Kirk Cameron’s “Way of the Master” series. If you’re wondering if the entire episode is as stupid as the banana argument, wonder no more: The folks at the Iron Chariots Wiki (a kickass name for a website, by the way) have posted a thoroughly detailed rebuttal of episode seven.

Comfort & Cameron’s “arguments” are so blatantly idiotic that they can be dismissed as bullshit, but if you ever need to point out to someone exactly why their arguments aren’t even worthy of consideration, the Iron Chariots page is your one-stop source. Two stops, actually; the banana argument merits its own page.

I can’t help but be in awe of the patience required to not only sit through an entire episode of that garbage, but to construct a detailed analysis of it, as well.

I’d like to thank a kind reader who shares the same name as a former Governor of California for pointing out that the videos in my OMG! The Collapse of Atheism! post have gone dead. Fortunately - or unfortunately, depending on your outlook - I’ve found replacements. I almost used these videos in the original post, but decided to go with the four-part version instead of the five-part series. The original post now has the links updated and contains working videos.

I realize the videos are pretty much the same thing over and over again, but the first video contains an introduction that wasn’t in the first batch of videos. Check out the first 1:45 of the first clip for a good laugh: Hitler, Mussolini, and… John Lennon?

Q: What do you get when you cross a Catholic with an atheist?

A: an Episcopalian.

I was reminded of the above joke after reading Cephus’s thoughts on atheists “coming out” to family and friends.

As far as I’m concerned, I was born an atheist and I’ve never had a reason to be otherwise. Technically, I grew up in the Episcopal Church (The American version of The Church of England), but I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times I’ve been to an actual church service. In fact, the first time I can remember attending a church service was when I was about 13 years old, and that was a Christmas Eve service at All Saints Episcopal Church.

It was after reading George H. Smith’s excellent Atheism: The Case Against God that I stopped calling myself an agnostic and declared myself a full-fledged atheist. I haven’t looked back since that time.

Most everyone in my family would be considered “non-religious” as opposed to atheists, so “coming out” to my family was no big deal at all; I had a harder time explaining to my family that I like the music of Abba and Sweet.

It’s been tougher with friends and acquaintances, although the most heated arguments I’ve had with theist friends have been regarding the existence of the soul and an afterlife. My worst experience after professing my atheism was on a blind date years ago. The girl was pretty hot, but during dinner she kept going on and on about all the free cocaine she got, then the conversation segued into how cool her church was. She suggested that maybe I could go to church with her one day (the date was on a Saturday night, so I was wondering if it was a veiled invitation to go home and fuck all night, then attend church the next morning), but I told her that I didn’t attend church. When she pressed for details as to why I don’t go to church, I simply told her that it’s because I’m atheist. She freaked out, in a big way: her immediate response was, “You mean you’re an ANTI-CHRIST?!?” Needless to say, the date didn’t go well, and I didn’t get laid that night. Not long after that incident, I was reading a book by Madeline Murray O’Hair and she was writing about how religionists were always accusing her of being the Anti-Christ. I loved her response: “Just because I’m an anti-Christ doesn’t mean I’m the Anti-Christ”.

The stupidest question I’ve ever heard after telling someone I’m an atheist was, “Doesn’t it bother you knowing that you’re going to hell?”

It wasn’t until I went online in 1995 that I got involved in any sort of atheist “activism”. I’ve always had mixed feelings about it, because as far as I’m concerned, my lack in a belief in god is about as important to me as my lack of belief in the tooth fairy. There shouldn’t really be any need for activism, but the general public’s ignorance on the subject makes it necessary.

With each passing day, I get more ambivalent about atheist activism. Many atheists spend a lot of time reminding Christians that atheism is not a religion, but sometimes I get the feeling that some atheists are trying to turn atheism into a religion. One example is the concept of “Freethought Churches”. It makes no sense at all to me for a group of people to appropriate the accoutrements of religion so that they can celebrate their lack of religion. Another example is Objectivism. I don’t have much of a problem with Objectivism in principle, but I’ve run into way too many Randians who harbor fantasies about some sort of John Galt messiah figure and the existence of a utopian “Galt’s Gulch”. Talk about missing the point…

Even the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster – a concept I fully endorse – concerns me a little. Keep in mind that Scientology is basically a joke religion, yet every day we read about how dangerous it is because its followers take it seriously. There are even people who take the Church of the SubGenius too seriously, so I feel that Pastafarianism holds the potential for abuse.

Although most of my online socializing is done with fellow atheists, atheism is an intensely personal issue for me; that’s why I refuse to get involved in the “militant versus friendly versus appeasers” debate among atheists. I simply don’t believe that being an atheist obligates anyone to adhere to any sort of party line. As much as I mock religion, deep down I feel that people should be able to believe what they want to believe, as long as it doesn’t interfere with other people’s business. If your religion requires you to believe that a global flood created the Grand Canyon, I have no problem whatsoever with that; but if you expect other people to share your belief, you better bring on some evidence. And by evidence, I don’t mean “this book written by Bronze Age goat herders says so”. After reading so many stupid arguments from religionists claiming that atheists are incapable of being moral, I feel that it is society’s best interests that some people hang on to their religion. Not that religion should be promoted as a Good Thing, mind you; it’s just that I feel if someone’s belief in God is the only thing that prevents them from becoming ax-wielding baby rapists, then they probably should retain that belief.

Because the majority of the objections to evolutionary theory are based on theology instead of science (with the remaining objections being political in nature), the fight against Intelligent Design and Creationism often appears to be a battle against religion. While I am opposed to any religion that requires its believers to reject valid science, I don’t take some default position that all religion should be opposed. There are some theists who are very strong voices in the struggle against pseudoscience, and I think it’s a big mistake to ostracize them simply because they’re not atheists. For me, my support for evolutionary biology and my advocacy for atheism are two completely separate things.

While I support the concept, I’ll never have one of those scarlet letters on this blog. I’m not ashamed to be an atheist, nor am I ever afraid to tell anyone that I’m an atheist, for personal reasons, it’s just something I don’t want to wear on my sleeve.

I apologize for the length of this post, and more importantly, its disjointedness. I haven’t done any serious blogging in weeks, so I’ve yet to find my rhythm. This post was a chance for me to dip my toes in the water and get a few things off my chest at the same time. It’s good to be back.

After over two weeks absence, I’m back in business. I got a new computer and so far, I’m pretty happy with it. My only complaint thus far is that it has Windows Vista for an OS, and I’m not accustomed to it. I also have to get used to a new keyboard… that’s a big deal for me; I could go ahead and use the old one, but it was time to get a new keyboard, anyway.

I need to get all my audio and video software installed - I’ve been itching to produce a new episode of The Church Burnin’ Ebola Broadcasting System, but my biggest priority is to rebuild my Tard tolerance levels. I haven’t read Uncommon Descent, Young Cosmos or any of Denyse O’Leary’s 5 million blogs in over two weeks, so I’m going to have to start testing the waters slowly…

I might not post anything tomorrow, but I’ll be back to regular blogging on Monday, for sure. I’ll also try to stop by my old haunts and say “howdy”; I’ve missed a lot of you fuckers!