Ranting, Ranting, Ranting

Well, PZ posted a picture made by a rather pathetic individual. I think I'll agree with some people that "Self-Portrait" would make for a more appropriate caption, since the creator apparently doesn't get out of his bleak gray room very often. Artists should do what they know, and I guess this "artist" doesn't know much at all.

One of the most foam-inducing lines in the person's bigoted screed (partially corrected with Doggerel links):

I don't think Atheists can even believe in love, which is the saddest part.

That's just pathetic. I'd love to beat some people like this over the head with my love for my family and friends. Unfortunately, intricate configurations of neurochemicals probably don't have the inertia necessary to do any damage, either physically, or to their cloistered worldview. What especially galls me about this is that even if we express our love and wonder, they'll just discount it as false because it doesn't come out of the nice, unnecessary packaging of their power structure.

Whether they like it or not, we're real people with real feelings. It's nihilists like this "artist" who sometimes make me wonder if there's anything going on behind the eyes of fundamentalists. Another alternative I wonder about is whether or not fundies are absolutely burning with jealousy. We can speak our mind without fear from a "loving" deity who always seems to take a relativistic stance about the morality of torture. We can have a will to do the right thing without fear of threats or being sidetracked by bribery. Sure, we don't have some magical, mythical comforts they like to fantasize about. But neither do we have anything to inspire complacency, like I so often see in fundies. When they're not doing something obviously immoral, they're usually advocating inaction and apathy. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. These are people who routinely deny the existence of wonders we take for granted, and typically deny that there are any that haven't already been crammed into their tiny, myopic books.

We've got the whole universe, and a planet full of people. They've only got an imaginary, abusive father figure.

Sorry if this rant isn't up to my full foamy standards. I dug up my Beatles: Yellow Submarine CD to play a few repeats of "All You Need is Love".