There’s nothing fundamentally wrong with people. Given a story to enact that puts them in accord with the world, they will live in accord with the world. But given a story to enact that puts them at odds with the world, as yours does, they will live at odds with the world. Given a story to enact in which they are the lords of the world, they will act like lords of the world. And, given a story to enact in which the world is a foe to be conquered, they will conquer it like a foe, and one day, inevitably, their foe will be bleeding to death at their feet, as the world is now.
To argue with a person who has renounced the use of reason is like administering medicine to the dead.
I still try though. :-\
Why are so focused on 'proving' GOD isn't real?
I’m not focused on proving that god isn’t real. I’m focused on protecting the dignity of philosophy—especially from those that seek to equate it with theology. Furthermore, I’m focused on letting my pretentious opponents know that they’re not alone in the field of ideas. I don’t need to prove that Yahweh doesn’t exist; any intellectually honest person is ready and willing to admit it, and some, like myself, are ready and willing to demonstrate why that’s the case.
Ultimately, when you have a people that are so bent on pushing their beliefs into your lap, even when you don’t want them there, people like me are necessary. I don’t come to the atheism tag to read about god, apologetics, Christianity, Islam, etc. Yet I see plenty of it; furthermore, it’s redundant. In any event, I have plenty of reason to be against Christianity and Islam. I have plenty of reason to be against purported truths and whether these “truths” are tied to religion or not, I’ll stand in their way. Thus, I’m focused on truth as well, so when you have religions like Christianity and Islam claiming to be true, though they’re not, people like me are necessary. In a nutshell, even if I were to pack up and stop blogging, others like me will arise; in the words of Joe Carroll from The Following, “I am inevitable.”
- Martin: I mean can you imagine if people didn't believe? All the things they'd get up to?
- Rust: Exact same thing they do now, just out in the open.
As Milton wrote in Paradise Lost, “[The mind] can make a heaven of hell or a hell of heaven.” In our constant search for meaning in this baffling and temporary existence, trapped as we are within our three pounds of neurons, it is sometimes hard to tell what is real. We often invent what isn’t there. Or ignore what is. We try to impose order, both in our minds and in our conceptions of external reality. We try to connect. We try to find truth. We dream and we hope. And underneath all of these strivings, we are haunted by the suspicion that what we see and understand of the world is only a tiny piece of the whole.
Science does not reveal the meaning of our existence, but it does draw back some of the veils.
Fundamentalism is a paradox. Its partisans—of any faith—call for the return to an imagined arcadia in which God’s voice boomed plainly from scripture. Yet as a historical phenomenon, fundamentalism is wholly modern. It is a set of reactions against the aftershocks of the Enlightenment and the evolution of global capitalism: the breach between faith and reason, the rise of the secular public square, and the collapse of traditional social hierarchies and ways of life. Creatures of modernity, fundamentalists have happily availed themselves of modern technology. Fundamentalists ranging from separatist Baptist preachers to Al Qaeda propagandists have demonstrated a genius for employing the latest media and political (or military) weaponry to spread their message and accomplish their aims. To fundamentalists, history, too, is a technology: a trove of data to be strategically deployed.