Incite Full

I have a lot of friends who are Atheist.

That’s probably the only fact that will be written in the rest of this post, as it all goes considerably downhill from here. A recent book I’m reading, Plato and a Platypus Walk into a Bar, puts it interestingly regarding arguments between atheists and, well, everyone else. You can’t argue with an atheist if you believe in some god or God (or vice versa) because there is fundamentally no common ground to agree upon with which to argue from. To shore up this point, Atheists rule from the view of reason, logic, and skepticism. It’s that last one that is probably the cornerstone. Believers rule from logic, reason, and a single (I suppose it could be multiple) leap of faith.

So to hell with the facts, right? Well I guess we’ll see. But there are two types of atheists that I’ve met, most of my friends are type one: those who believe it and that’s who they are. They might not “get” why people believe in God, but they don’t always push their agenda. The second group consists of people who need to voice their opinion as an atheist and use atheism as a badge of honor or “holier-than-thou” attitude, which is funny if you think about it.

Logically, though, I don’t understand why atheists take issue with believers, as I guess I’ll call them. It kind of skids the agnostic issue, which is a perfectly valid, if non-committal, position.Why do certain atheists roll their eyes at those who pray or thank god publicly? Why do some people get upset when asked to bow their heads in a moment of silence, taking the act not for what it is: a moment of respect, but rather forced prayer? Why do people argue to remove the “under God” from the pledge of allegiance? I know of not one person, though I’m sure they exist (I believe it!) that had a strong opinion on the matter.

The issue that I think atheism boils down to which presents the problem is that of rationality. Not that believers are irrational, but skepticism is king when it comes to atheism. But “What then?”, I ask. It can’t be about conversion, for a person converted to atheism through argument alone is still a believer, but simply a believer in non-belief. Is it education? Is it Anger? Lack of respect? Wanting to feel correct?

A lot of erroneous arguments are made on both sides, two of which I see often are “This country was founded as a Christian nation” and “Religion causes war.” Both are silly arguments, regardless of their substance (which I don’t really think should be acknowledged), but illustrate how heated and biased the arguments get. We can discuss these things without trying to convert or pass judgment, or at least it is in our capacity. Why don’t we?

I really want to know more about the other side of things, but I don’t want to learn it from a person that will dismiss me because of a belief in God. And here is a hint if you’re out there, calling Him “magic” or “Superstition” is not a good way to start off the argument or introduce yourself as an atheist. Much as I’m sure that telling a person they are going to hell, a place in which he or she doesn’t believe, is a good way of saying “Good morning” to an atheist.

It’s hard to put into words what love actually is. Not hugs and kisses, but to describe the indescribable. To express exactly what it is to a person who would otherwise not know. In some respects, it’s easier to explain it to a child in terms of how they feel about their mother or father. But that’s the “easy” type of love, the kind of love that everyone has for someone, whether it be parent or friend.

Today I saw it for the first time in a long time.

Gabe and Danielle got married today, and it was a great ceremony and reception. The music was great and the readings and prayer for the service were about as perfect as such a thing could be. What struck me about it all came near the end of the service, before “The kiss,” when we were to all silently take in one of the readings. Everyone on stage was fidgeting, uncomfortable with the silence. Some were swaying, others were darting their eyes to their friends or around the church.

But Gabe and Danielle, Mr. and Mrs. Hohrieter, were simply standing there looking at each other. It was one of those looks where a cracked smile said more than either of them could say verbally. Standing there holding hands, I felt like I was let in on some secret they have.

And it was incredible. Obviously I knew they cared about one another. They are perfect together, after all, but seeing that let me in on what a relationship can and should be like. I wrote on a not that I was jealous of them (in a joking tone) but the more and more I think of it, I am. Not a scornful jealous, but a happy for them feeling i’ve not really felt before. It’d be easy to be a tad bitter and scornful what with my recent relationship woes, but I can’t be. First of all being Danielle’s friend, but second of all I should hope we’re all as lucky as those two.

Congratulations D and Gabe, you guys have a long, exciting life ahead of you. And plenty of relatives to babysit free of charge.

I also went to the Phillies vs Dodgers game Friday night. I went with Jordan and his friends from The Shack, a Philadelphia sports bar with much love for all things Eagle, Phlyer, Phillie and 76er. The group is an eclectic bunch, from guys looking like Matisyahu and Scott Stapp, and girls on gluten free diets to those who can talk trash and moon other drivers. That being said, man they are a lot of fun. The game was going well until towards the end and alcohol had set in for the Dodger fans.

I swear I’ve never been pelted with more food items and beverages in my entire life than I was last night. After the Dodger fans went ahead and won the game, insults were thrown even further than the hotdogs with which these douchebags were armed. Now I didn’t really have a problem with it and partially expected it coming in. But they should have at least been men about it all. The girls in our troupe (said mooner and gluten-free femmes) were the target of most of the thrown items, and one guy, apparently, took a swing at one of the girls. I wish I had seen it, but unfortunately I wasn’t around at that point.

Imagine a grown man swinging at a girl over a baseball game. Stay classy, Los Angeles. And as much as I know it’s not indicative of all fans, it shows you that there are fans and people out there going Robert Deniro over this shit like they are playing in the actual game. My favorite is the asshole who’s talking shit from the left bleacher, only to run away when we saw him in the parking lot. The best way to describe it: The bleachers at Dodgers stadium are most like the internet; Anonymity plus opinion equals incredibly stupid behavior.

Making matters worse was the “security” in the park. They were too busy hassling a bunch of phillie fans for their tickets and ensuring they were sitting in the right spot instead of kicking out said douchebags hurling shit at us. Can’t remember the official who came and talked to us, but he looked like Squeak from Basketball. This guy was more interested in being our friend than actually fixing the problem, a quality I find loathsome in human beings.

I’m not perfect, but I’m not afraid to disappoint people once and a while either. There are about 4-6 girls in my past life you can confirm this with. But honestly, the expression “Don’t piss on my and tell me it’s raining” is apt here. Tell me you can’t do shit about it, don’t tell me “We can’t watch everyone,” because either way you’re failing at your job, but one way I don’t expect change. And pro-tip: If I get upset and swear, calling something “fucking ridiculous,” threatening to kick me out is a baller move. Apparently swearing is higher on the pantheon of crimes at dodger stadium than throwing a plate of nachos. At least put jalapeños on it, spice up my life.

The point of my rant is that I’m not even a Phillie fan. They are fun to watch, and i don’t mind cheering for them from time to time (but they still beat the brewers and we can’t have that happening). But I am even more of an anti-Los Angeles fan than I can describe, but I’ll try. LA Fans, go back to your freeway congested, smog filled, band-wagon jumping, waitering because you can’t act, more plastic than a matel factory, bottled water drinking, bad driving, over-populated, 7-dollar-beer selling, slicked-back or shaved head, blond or dyed blond, groupie gathering, twenty-dollar micro salad, paparazzi infested latrine that feels less and less like home than it does a pit stop on my journey through life.

Kind of wish I didn’t hit my 1000 word limit in anger, but I’ll take it. Gearing up for nanowrimo.

From an interview with Christian Bale:

So…outside of your roles, do you have a history of putting yourself in situations where you have to test yourself physically or even court danger?
Definitely. Though the one that stands out to me wasn’t physically demanding or dangerous. One of the places where we lived when I was growing up had this big wood out the back. And starting when I was about 8, I used to enjoy just walking alone through the wood late. Eleven p.m. Midnight. Later. Deep into the woods. It was terrifying. And I wasn’t allowed to look behind me, no matter what noises I heard. That was the point. That thing. The fear. To go into some deep place, a well of fear, that you’ve never been to before and that you didn’t know the way out of. Not looking behind, not turning around, just going deeper and deeper into those woods. I always enjoyed that.

That’s the word? Enjoy?
I learned something about myself, didn’t I?

What?
That I don’t want to be comforted. That I want to be able to face the hell I’m in.

So for that 8-year-old boy it was two things at once: I am afraid and that is unpleasant; at the same time, I am enjoying this.
But it was also I am staying. I am not running. There’s a beautiful epitaph on the gravestone of Melvin Purvis, the FBI agent I play in Public Enemies [the story of J. Edgar Hoover’s pursuit of John Dillinger, played by Johnny Depp, which will be released in July]. All that man went through, the gun battles, being a high-priority target of underworld figures… One time he was in Al Capone’s hotel room, meeting with him, and bullets started flying through the window, the two of them duckin’ down, firing back, looking at each other, and Capone says to him, “They after you, or they after me?” And neither knew. True story. So many situations like that the man went through. And on his gravestone it’s written—in Latin, so I had his son translate it for me—“I was often afraid, but I never ran.” Back in the day, he would admit to being scared. It was a bravery in and of itself just to admit that in that era. The papers called him Nervous Purvis. But that’s exactly what I was enjoying in those woods as a kid. I am afraid for my life, but I will not run and I will not look back. I will just go deeper. Until I come through.

The past few weeks of my life have looked more like a beginners attempt at pogosticks than a finely tuned (german) automobile. Which is to say I’ve been goofing off and not taking much of anything seriously. As a kid I still have this luxury- no one depends on me aside from people at work and I’m fairly professional there. As professional as one can be wearing an ironic T-shirt, shorts, and shaving more times than socks I wear on a weekly basis. And I hate shaving.

My father, unfortunately, does not have that luxury. For 45 some odd years of his working life, he’s been in control of his future. He decided to work here or there, buy this or that, and take vacations to where and when he wanted. All that has changed, and it’s been a struggle for him.  Hell it’d be a struggle for anyone, but I think he’s taking it in stride very well- better than I believe I could.

But it’s hard watching the ones you love grow worried and think themselves into a corner. I wish I could say something to him to make it all better, to make him worry less. When I was applying to colleges early in my junior year of high school, he saw me slacking and, afraid I was throwing away my potential, took me aside and showed what could only be called tough love. And it worked, I got off my ass and got to school and did well from there on. My point is, I wish I could do something to have such a profound effect on the man’s life. He’s given me so much and I can’t give anything back except for a listening ear and what little wisdom I have in comparison to his.

Here’s hoping it’ll do the trick, and if not… at least take his mind off of things for a while.

I don’t know what makes me happy.

And it’s that which makes me wonder about the next 70 years of my life.