Religious blogs, for the most part, present themselves complete with nothing else other than thankfulness for the monotonous: food on the table, gas in the tank, an eager lover, unbroken windows, safety from fellow humans. Instead of thanking years of education, economics coupled with good judgment, or everything the middle class expects, these blogs occupy the space so many dead grandmothers can no longer fill, and simply give thanks to another day, or kick around questions carefully framed in a belief system and ever ask: If I chunk my faith to the toxic breeze, what’s left to work with?
Those are the people who read what I posted.
I think it’s because people more than flirt with the idea of tettering past a few degrees of unbelief. Other people want more than what a god offers, which, at best, is a simple extension, or, at worst, a total replacement of personality. People know faith is simply agnosticism because it offers nothing but presumptions about the invisible and knowing the unknown, and after an AMEN, all that hangs above their heads is silence because faith only supports itself and fills the gap between evidence and the total lack of it. Those people are living an unlived life—someone else’s, and they know it; they’ll only examine it through someone else who is willing to sacrifice their nonexistent soul, because religious faith strives above all else to leave the faithful stagnate and inefficient when it comes to their own beliefs: circular and constantly at odds with secularism. There is no self-criticism in religion. The Dalai Lama can talk about how science advances humanity more than prayers do, but he will never drop the “His Holiness” prefix and tell a crowd of impoverished Tibetan legions that he isn’t god, and that they should strive and toil only to better this world for their children, because that’s the only chance at reincarnation and immortality that they really have.
If you speak up about this, though, the most religious who are emotionally closest to you either try to talk you off the ledge of a new experience, or attempt to murder you. It all depends on the stage in which the society you live in has poisoned itself with that smut called secularism. Mostly, though, people direct you to church leaders, or they direct the leaders to your front door or email account. Why? What makes them know God or His book better than you? At best, there’s only a difference in fundamental understanding, but never a total comprehension of the subject you flirt with rejecting because there is no gnosis. Claiming special knowledge is so anti-human that it could only be religious!
Like the Internet, the real world is full of people who will tell other what to believe, what to do, and while grammar and sentences fail me, or rather, I fail them. I will be charitable enough to say that not many can read better than I can. And, at the end, that’s all one has: your own mind to goddamn Him or glorify Him, but He won’t speak unless someone else speaks for Him, and when you listen, that’s when you abandon reason, suckle at authority, and the problems of our world never end.
After a nine hundred and twenty words, all this sounds like something that everyone has heard before, just like what’s found on religious blogs and in the mouths of religious people, or spewing from adamant Hell bound hell hounds. I’d rather say something new, something more than faith or disbelief, something human.