No matter how early or late, happy or sad, or how full of caffeine or codeine I am, whenever I hear Queen’s “We Will Rock You,” I feel empowered in that Rage Against the Machine kind of way, and I wanna put on a pair of old Dr. Martens and run out into the street and riot for justice.
Is there a song that makes you feel that way?
Awhile back, my friend Dave had a funny facebook status in which he mentioned a woodchuck. It reminded me of “My Encounter With The Opossum” — “my” because it was personal, “the” because it wasn’t just any opossum. It happened one summer morning in North Texas. I left my apartment and was making my way through a maze of shrubs towards my parking garage — not paying much attention to my surroundings, as this had been my daily routine for a year. As I rounded a corner, I looked up just in time to see an animal emerge from the under the shrubbery. Only, it didn’t just “emerge” and then be on its way. Like a gatekeeper, it boldly stepped directly in my path and stopped, blocking my way through. I froze, not because I thought I should or because I was scared – but because all of my brain’s known resources were working on processing the image it received. I didn’t know what it was. Its skin was a jaundiced pink tone, and what little fur it had was wirey and white. Its eyes were tiny, but I could see that they, too, were pink. It was when it hissed at me and showed me its sharp little teeth that I thought “hairless cat”, but that didn’t resolve due to it having weird claw-type feet and a long pointy snout. It was also at that moment that I didn’t care what it was. Fight or flight kicked in, and I flew in the opposite direction.
It was several days later, at a cook-out, that I learned it was an albino opossum. Apparently I wasn’t the only resident that it had bullied that week. Legend has it, that it moved in under the shrubs and had babies, but I can neither confirm nor deny that statement. I never walked that way to my garage again.
I really look forward to Dave’s story of his encounter with a rabid raccoon.
Mother Nature is a bitch.
Go ahead and plan to subscribe to this blog when you are finished reading. If you don’t like this post, I guarantee you will like at least 4 of the others. How do I know this? I’m good that way.
In the following days, months, years (yes, plural, “years” — December 21, 2012 is one day before my birthday and I’ll be damned if the world is gonna end until I have had my fill of it.) — I will make you laugh, piss you off, and challenge you to think (for yourselves).
“Think? About WHAT?” you say. About things that you never thought about before because you never had the chance to think about them and formulate your own opinions about them.
Why? Because, a long time ago, someone took advantage of your young age and/or of your lack of knowledge. Someone disrespected your humanity; underestimated your ability; ignored your right; and hid from you your responsibility to immediately reject what is presented as “so” until there is sufficient evidence to support it as “so”. (This rule applies to everything. It even applies to Him… No, Santa Claus ain’t real folks.)
You know where this is going. Is there a tooth fairy? No, but I was told there was one. Same with Santa and ye olde bunny of easter. I believed what I was told. Why, I even had “proof” — Santa left me the coolest toys; the easter bunny left candy, eggs, yellow marshmallow peeps, and pink shredded plastic grass — every year, same time, same place. Tooth Fairy? Money – paper money, folks, under my pillow. Believed in him til I found the matchbox of tiny teeth in my daddy ‘s top drawer. Believed in “god” at some point, too. Not anymore. Heck, the money I found under my pillow was more evidence of a tooth fairy than anyone has ever shown me of a god. BTW, I didn’t just decide to be an atheist. I was a youth pastor for almost ten years. The more scriptural research I did, the clearer the realization became that I was the one telling fables to the young and impressionable. My “coming out” as an atheist, wasn’t easy. It cost me many dear relationships, but I have no regrets — save for the damage that I did with my blind story telling during those ten years.
So, yeah, I am an atheist, and contrary to popular belief — we do not eat babies. We are real people who think for ourselves. I am not here to disprove anyone’s claim that there is a god. I am only saying that there isn’t sufficient evidence for me to believe in a god or gods. (Just as there isn’t sufficient evidence for either of us to believe in the tooth fairy or the loch ness monster.) See? We already have something in common.
There are unanswered questions. Accept that. Do NOT accept MADE UP answers to those questions.
Just because it’s been put in your mouth doesn’t mean you have to swallow it.
Not for Sheep and Not for Cheap 