The Fifth Commandment... I Think it Was the Fifth

I had a very interesting conversation with my father last night, while I was making my dinner. He'll sometimes call just to chat, usually about books or whatever mindless family nonsense happens to be going on. Lacking much in the way of intellectual discourse in this house, I look forward to his company. At the very least, it's always stimulating.

Last night's talk, on the other hand, led to some very discouraging places. Lately I've been mailing out articles from www.godisimaginary.com to family and friends, as a sort of counter to the "Jesus Loves You" letters my correspondents are so fond of forwarding to me. My Atheism is something of a sore point with a lot of my family, and Dad's no exception.

Dad: You really need to cut it out with those e mails.
Me: Why?
Dad: Well, nobody wants to hear that stuff.
Me: I don't really want to read e mails about how wonderful Jesus is, either. Generally I just don't open them.
Dad: The point is, they come across and angry and hateful, and a lot of people are offended.
Me: I thought they were sort of funny. They're just reasons that the Bible isn't true. I'm not saying "F you!" to anybody. Just trying to illuminate.

Dad: Well, don't be talking about that crap in front of your sisters. They don't need to hear it.
Me: But I honestly think it's true. And that my life has improved since I realized it. Don't we all try to teach people the things that have made our lives better?

Dad: You know exactly why it's a bad thing. Do you have any idea how many millions of people can only get through the day because they believe God is looking out for them? Do you know what it would do to those people to have that ripped away from them?
Me: I have two things to say to that. First, if they truly can only live because they think there's a God, they really need to reexamine their lives. And secondly, I don't really have an issue with people believing whatever they like. The reason I try to point out that the Bible is fake is that the people who live by it are doing a lot of harm in this country. I figure if I could show them why they're wrong, why the rules they force upon everyone else are immoral, maybe I could do some good.

Dad: Nobody's trying to force anyone to believe in God.
Me: It's not about that. It's about the behaviors they force people to live by. Whether we believe or not is irrelevant, because they're making laws that require us to live according to the Bible's rules. The beliefs are whatever. It's the laws I have an issue with.
Dad: Like what? Are you offended that you have to say "Under God" in the pledge of allegiance?
Me: No, I'm offended that millions of innocent people in this country aren't allowed to get married if they want to.
Dad: Who?
Me: Well... the gay people. Obviously.
Dad: That's not true. They can do anything anyone else can do. They can get those what-do-you-call-them, civil unions.
Me: That's not the same thing at all. They're denied lots of the rights that straight people have, bottom line.
Dad: What rights? If they like, they can go to the Church of Penis Worship or whatever they go to, have a little 'sword fight', and they've got a Civil Union. Same thing.

At this point I explained to my Dad about my insurance paperwork from work. Right there on the front page, in bold print, it says "You May NOT Enroll a Same Sex Partner in a Full Coverage Plan in Any State".

Dad: That's just your company's insurance.
Me: Maybe, but the fact that the distinction can legally be made indicates a segregated society. Some people have rights, other people don't. It's screwed up. And the source of it is the Bible.
Dad: How does this affect YOU, anyway? Are you gay?
Me: No. But I am in love with a black woman. And until the sixties, there were anti-miscegnation laws in fifteen states. So it's not too hard to put myself in the gay people's shoes. Forty years ago I would have been in the same situation. A hundred years ago, you had to pay a fine to the Government for having a mixed-race child. It was considered a crime. And the source of those laws? The Bible.
Dad: Where? (indignant)
Me: Well, Genesis says "kind after kind", and the Tower of Babel story-
Dad: Neither of those stories says anything about marrying other races!
Me: No, they don't. But these are the ways believers in this country justify their decisions. It's like I said. I don't care about belief. It's when those beliefs are legislated that they become a problem.
Dad: So are you not against NAMBLA, then?
Me: Of course I am. They're pedophiles.
Dad: So what's the difference? They aren't doing anything wrong, right? Just following their biological, perfectly natural drives. They were born that way. How can we tell them who they can and can't have sex with?
Me: There's an age of consent. Two adult men choosing to marry is nothing like child-rape. It's reciprocal, not predatory.
Dad: Mental illness is mental illness.

Basically the conversation went along this way for awhile longer, and eventually we hung up to go about our business. But the strange thing, to me anyway, is that we did so without any animosity or grudge at all. "Hey listen, I gotta run to the store. Love you. Tell your brother to call me" "Okay. Talk to you later.", and that's it. I wasn't angry at him, and I know he wasn't angry at me. We just both think the other person is wrong.

It reminded me of a line from Watchers, by Dean Koontz. "Is it possible to love your father, and at the same time completely reject your father's teachings?"

I think so. I don't think he's a bad man at all. I think he's listened to a little too much Rush Limbaugh and not done enough critical thinking, at least on the subject of civil rights, but he's not a generally hateful person. He would honestly tell you, and he would mean it, that he doesn't hate gay people at all. He just doesn't understand that they deserve the same chance at happiness as straight people.

So where does that leave me? I'm confused about how this all makes me feel. My mother, for instance, is a monster. One of the most hateful, cruel, psychologically twisted people I know. And yet on matters of civil rights and society, we agree on nearly everything. Literally the opposite of my father, who disagrees with me on political matters but is a decent, harmless man.

Maybe a person isn't the sum of their beliefs. Otherwise I would cherish my mother and revile Dad, and that's definitely not what's going on.

Am I my Atheism? Is my father just his Conservatism? Or are they aspects of personality, important only in the voting booth? Is it a little too easy to lose sight of a person's uniqueness once we identify one arguable trait?

What do you think?

Fifteen Foot Tall Blue Cat Men and the Blogosphere

Well, here I am. Blogging. Just like everybody else.

You hear about this sort of thing on the radio and in TV commercials now. "Come to Panera Bread and try our new Steak Asparagus and Cilantro Tea Smoothie! Free Wi-Fi! Blog about your Chipotle Egg and Cheese on a bagel!" People love to blog. Meanwhile I'm frustrated at having to write that word over and over again. Blog. Blog.

So what's the appeal? Why would we want to lay our thoughts and everyday doings out on the internet, for the world to see? Why would we expect anyone to care?

On a related note, I recently read an article about the movie Avatar, and how many, many people are experiencing a deep depression after seeing it. They long for a place that doesn't exist because of the beauty and majesty of that world. Some people have formed support groups.

What the article doesn't really talk about, and what I believe is the core of the issue at hand, is that in the movie Avatar, every living thing on the planet Pandora is capable of bonding emotionally with everything else. The animals and people have these nerve cords on their heads that can be intertwined with other beings' nerve cords, forming a deep, natural connection.

The kind of connection that the people who complain on the internet all day don't always get to experience. Coincidence?

I guess what I'm saying is that the Blog phenomenon is our way of connecting with the rest of humanity. We all add our musings to a collective pool of information, and anyone who happens by can instantly know us a little better. It's no nerve-braid, but it's something.

So I'll be here, adding to the collective. Plug into my brain once in awhile, and who knows?

Maybe we'll connect.