srs thoughts

  • Feb. 24th, 2011 at 4:18 PM
femmealunettes: (***SORT LIFE OUT*** : Shaun of the Dead)
For Science and Religion I had to read Living With Darwin by Philip Kitcher. We were only assigned the first four chapters of the five-chapter book, but I needed to finish it to count it for my resolution to read more books a month, so I read the last chapter today, and... I really wish any of my classmates had also read it, because I really want to have a discussion with someone about this. The last chapter was about why Christians attack Darwinism and all the inconsistencies in the New Testament and how a critical examination of religion in light of the enlightenment case, which questions millions of years of suffering under the assumption of a benevolent god, kind of pokes holes in fundamentalism of all stripes... but one of the things Kitcher said was that Americans lack the kind of social structures Europeans have for expressing their emotions in acceptable ways-- that instead of neighborhood pubs or piazzas, all we have are churches, so of course people turn to religion as the only valid form of seeking acceptance and comfort.

And that made me think... the implication is that finding someplace to express your negative emotions in a safe space and get reassurance in return can take the place of religion in the life of someone whose thinking is more secular, so... Kitcher is saying that I go to therapy instead of going to church?

I'm not sure how I feel about that. On the one hand, I certainly feel better leaving therapy, the same way I feel better when one of my friends lets me rant to them, the same way I felt better after going in to talk to Chris every week last semester, the way I sometimes used to feel after leaving church. On the other hand, is this why I search for trancendental experiences by using drugs? Because I know I'm never going to have that trancendental experience through prayer and worship again, and I need something like that in my life periodically?

Is it really enough for me to be a secular humanist or do I need some sort of spirituality in my life? Isn't my resolve to be a good person just as well supported by Jesus' teachings and parables without believing in a virgin birth or a miraculous resurrection? Isn't it better for me to take my examples of how to live from a range of sources instead of one book I haven't believed since I was 14? What have I really learned about the universe and myself in the past eleven years, anyway? yeah, that happened, and it irritates me that I can't just grab one of my friends and have a conversation about it when half of them were supposed to have read at least the first part of the book and none of them actually did. And the one I've actually had some sort of logical lead-in to this kind of conversation with is the one I really should by no means be spending time with alone, because every single time I'm alone with him my chest aches with how badly I want to get closer to him, and I'm just a pathetic creeper about him even if I hide it well.

femmealunettes: (angel is not amused : Castiel)
I am either touched in the head or exceedingly masochistic. I'm leaning toward touched because I don't think I actually enjoy being miserable, but there's a distinct possibility...

Anyways, I just agreed to go with my mother to Women's Camp if one of the ladies she has signed up backs out. This entails spending the weekend at Long Point Camp, the Salvation Army camp for the Empire State division. Now, Long Point is nice enough, I can deal with sleeping in a cabin for a couple of nights, and it'll probably be good for me to get some fresh air... but this also means I just agreed to attend at least two meetings in which somebody is going to be talking about the state of my soul and how much better off it would be if I was BFF with Jesus.

The last time I genuinely felt anything at a religious service, I was... fourteen? I might have been thirteen, and attending Youth Councils in the Penn State Division. Since then, the dominant emotion when I've been dragged to compelled to attend services has been boredom. I won't say disdain, because I respect the role religion plays in other people's lives, I just... don't have much use for it, myself. I like the singing, sometimes, because my options for singing now that I'm no longer in a chorus are limited to church and along with the radio, but I really zone out when the praying starts, and there's an awful lot of praying, usually.

Out of the entire weekend, I'll probably only spend about three hours in services, but there could be surprise Jesus lurking around every corner. It's enough to make an agnostic paranoid, and I'm already paranoid.

The chances I'll be going are about fifty-fifty, at this point. I'll know for sure by noon tomorrow whether I'm going or not.

I just know that going will make my mother really happy, and I do try to keep her as happy as possible. It probably won't be awful. Most likely. I might even have a good time!

Feb. 16th, 2010

  • 2:58 PM
femmealunettes: (deep thought. : Sinfest)
Oh man, I love it when my mom religion-trips me. She's in fucking Florida and she's still managing to do it. Her scripture-of-the-day thing today was all "do not hearden your heart against God" and she forwarded to me all "this made me think of you" and all I can say is KNOCK IT THE FUCK OFF, MOTHER.

She doesn't even know so much about me. She'd probably disown me if she did knew. God forbid she ever finds out I've had a girlfriend or that I experimented with Wicca back in high school, she'd never speak to me again.

It's kind of sad that she's the most influential person in my life and I have to lie to her just to keep in her good graces. If I ever actually said what I think about her religion, forget it, I would be living in a box.

Ugh. I only had to check the internet to download an episode of Leverage I was missing and now I'm all pissy and worked up about this. Damn it.

And I totally forgot that I promised to do banners for the Heroes Slash Awards. I think this is the last time I'm going to do them. I just don't care as much as I used to. Doesn't mean I'm going to half-ass them this time around, but unless nobody else will step up to the plate next time, I don't think I'm that vital to the process.


  • Jan. 17th, 2010 at 11:34 PM
femmealunettes: (can you hear me now? : Castiel)
Youth in Revolt was really, really good. I liked it a lot better than Juno, for what my opinion on Michael Cera films is worth.

I am alone in the house now. Julia went to spend the night at Jake's. It's just me, the dogs, and the cats. I realize that I am almost a quarter of a century old and that I am being ridiculous, but oh my god I hate being left alone in the house overnight. It feeds into one of my biggest irrational fears.

Let me tell you about how being raised religious damaged me! More than once, I have woken up alone in the house and not been able to find anyone via phone, and my instinctive thought is the Rapture happened and I have been left with the rest of the unbelievers to face the end days, fuck. More than once. It hasn't happened recently-- rational thought usually kicks in before this point, and also my father hardly ever leaves the house so I'm never alone-- but it happens regularly enough to make me loathe being alone because what if it happens and I wouldn't even know. Too much reading Revelations at too young an age fucked me up pretty intrinsically.

Also once I woke up during an earthquake and I thought it was Jesus coming back to earth. Not even kidding.

So yes, I'm broken in the head and it makes me do stupid things like not be able to cope with being alone overnight. This is why I will never move out unless I have a roommate. I cannot even imagine living alone, it is horrible to contemplate and I don't want to do it ever. I'm going to pop a Xanax and take a bath and read Transmetropolitan and Ex Machina until I can't stay awake any more, which shouldn't take long. I can't stay up too late because I have a 10:30 appointment with Alice Jordan to go to Wells College-- are they even going to be open tomorrow? It's MLK Day. I hope they will, otherwise this is going to be a fun drive for no purpose at all.

Ugh, being nervous about one thing makes me nervous about everything.
femmealunettes: (Dr. Manhattan slows down... way down)
You know how people say "you drive me to drink"?

My mom drives me to want to smoke. Like, six cigarettes in a row. or preferably a nice fat joint.

I swear to god, talking to a 16 year old about adoption vs. the morning after pill... is fucking ridiculous.

"omg it's a baby"

Noooo, it's a clump of cells that doesn't even have a shape yet. Taking the pill now is like sticking a person with an epipen before they can go into anaphylactic shock: one little thing that stops a lot of problems before they start.

"if she dies from this you know her parents can sue you for manslaughter"

Okay, yeah, I'll risk it.

whatthefuck, seriously. If I were a more contrary person I'd go have unprotected sex just to wave the empty pill box in front of her. "could have been a grandkid... you never know!"

I really need ice cream right now.
femmealunettes: (full of adorable bemused grace : Ned)
Okay, I'm gone until tomorrow evening. Love you guys, will miss you, d me on twitter if you need me. ♥

(sad fact: I have been to more Christian rock concerts in my life than concerts I have actually wanted to attend.)

Okay scratch that, my mother asked me "Do you really want to go?" and I said "Not really, but if you want me to I'm all packed," and she got all pissed because I have no real desire to spend hours of my life immersed in music that is way more pop than I enjoy, plus sermons disguised as "inspirational messages", plus people trying to convert me back to something I consciously left behind...

Sorry I didn't lie, Mom? Whatever. I'm home. So now I can bake those cookies and finish this story I'm on a roll with.

femmealunettes: (between you and your god : Mohinder)
Is it sad that I use Firefox as my spellcheck? Anyhow, since it's here, have my pretentious views on quotes on religion!

yeah, I really am pretentious. )

Oh! While I was looking for my flexibinder (♥) I found my lame-ass high school poetry compilation. And I promised [ profile] nyakototo that I would post my X-Files inspired poem if I found it... so, uh, here...

keep in mind I was 15 when I wrote this... )

oh my god I was SO BAD AT POETRY. Not that I'm much better now. But still.

hands not holding as we cross the street

  • Nov. 23rd, 2008 at 8:59 AM
femmealunettes: (good morning. : Pushing Daisies)
I had a very weird dream that involved walking around a mall and a big confusing movie theater. I have mall dreams a lot. When I was younger they would all be of the same long two-story mall, and it would flood by the end and I'd end up swimming around with merchandise floating around me, or climbing onto something and paddling around... but they don't flood any more. Now I dream mostly about window shopping for furniture and weird clothing.

I don't want to go to church, but my mother would really like me to go. This is where my being a good daughter conflicts with what I actually want to do. Usually I take pleasure in doing what I'm asked to-- laundry, dishes, pet care, vacuuming, raking leaves/shoveling snow... but going to church, MEH. It's not even like I have to do anything besides sit, but it's still annoying.

I'm just too principled to blow it off like my sisters do. And I couldn't oversleep this morning because she made orange rolls and cinnamon buns. Crafty, wily woman! Damn.

Butcher smells good. ♥ Is it weird that I sniff my cat regularly? I like the smell of his fur. He just generally smells cat-like in a good way.

...I don't want to go have to deal with the crazies. ;_;
femmealunettes: (fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck)
Ah, fuck.

I just showed my mom Keith's Special Comment and she was like "yeah well, did he just use a murderer's statement to try and make his point?" and I was like "uh." and she was like "you know just because they're a loud and angry minority doesn't mean they're right" and I went "JESUS CHRIST MOM, IT'S NOT ABOUT BEING RIGHT, IT'S ABOUT LOVE" and she's all "they're still wrong"

and then we fought for like half an hour and I cried and she accused me of being gay because obviously there's no way to be this upset about something that you're not completely personally invested in, and I was like "Yeah mom, I'm a crazy rampant lesbo, are you going to kick me out?" and she laughed because she thought I was being sarcastic, but I really don't think she'd believe me if I told her that I was bi at this point, she'd just think I was trying to piss her off.

I just. cannot BELIEVE. that she would rather hide behind five fucking verses of a 2000-year old multiple-mistranslated book from a society that has about as much to do with the modern world as first grade has to do with college. Yes. Human nature is the same. Yes. There are valid ideas that should be adhered to. But this slavish devotion to cherrypicked portions of a book that lets you tell OTHER PEOPLE how they should live parts of their lives that have no impact on ANYONE but that person and maybe the person they love, that's about as endearing as the people who walk around quoting memorized lines from Napoleon Dynamite. Yes, we see that you can learn how to parrot unclever ideas, now get the hell out of my face and leave me alone.

And then she's all "well you don't believe there's a single valid religion worth its adherents do you." and I said no. I should have said yes. Buddhists have never started shit with anyone, as far as I know. I am down with that.

I'm not saying people can't believe in whatever they want to. That's your choice, just like who you love is your choice. But just like who you love and what you do with them, keep your religion out of the public eye, because no one wants to have dogma or homemade porn of you and your unattractive partner shoved in their face.

AND THEN she had the gall to say that the reason Hitler had Catholic priests killed in concentration camps was because "he knew they were right." UM WHAT? That was when I get really speechless and told her I was done talking to her for the night, I'm sorry, that makes no fucking sense, please get out.

...and I'm still crying. And pissed off.

and to top it all off, my Yuletide recipient still hasn't posted a "dear santa" letter. Come on and give me some fucking tips for your story so I can distract myself already.

yeah I'm not going to sleep well tonight, I can tell that already. I am fighting the urge to take my last few cigarettes and chainsmoke out my window because I am that fucking agitated.


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