Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 20, 2018

It’s time for 'moral' Christians to take a good, long look in the mirror.


The prism of morality:

Morality. That word though. So nebulous and malleable—a favourite of American Christians, in describing what they have that non-believers simply cannot. A moral guideline. You see, according to many prominent and vocal Christians, to be an atheist is to be morally deficient. For who can be good without moral guidelines such as the bible to go from?

The first thing an Atheist will say, which is a great question, is—are the ‘moral guidelines’ of your bible the only things keeping you from being a bad person? Is it the ink on the biblical pages the only thing that stops you from raping and pillaging and murdering willy-nilly? Most atheists agree, that if that is the case, you are a morally questionable person—and you don’t get to preach to anyone about morality.

You see, Christianity, or religion as a whole, does not own morality. Furthermore, morality is, going by the bible (and sometimes other religious texts), questionable. Let’s face it, the bible and its various kin are anything but bastions of morality. The bible alone suggests that while to kill is a mortal sin that it’s okay to sacrifice your children; and throughout the holy books, murder and sacrifice are rampant. The bible will tell you that being an adulterer is forbidden, that it is acceptable for the characters of the many biblical allegories, to marry as many wives as needed, to rape indiscriminately, to marry and lie with children, or to sleep with siblings’ wives and husbands are okay. The bible is filled with morally reprehensible acts, and the foundations of these stories are supposed to be the moral guidelines that Christians live by.

God, is anything but infallible on morality. I mean, to start with, the all-knowing, all-seeing word of god is so set in stone, that he had to revise his words in the New Testament—so exactly how reliable is the dogma if that’s the case? Books riddled with contradictions, which are meant to represent the word of an infallible god? Not exactly something to live by. Unless you pick and choose whatever sounds suitable to your narrative from the book. So if morality can be picked, and chosen, it is really morality? And more so, if your moral guideline is made up of carefully selected tenets, is it really a reliable guideline?

What does this all mean for the countless civilizations that existed without Christianity? And who somehow muddled through the centuries surviving, living wholesome lives, coexisting in communities with other people, raising children, building towns and cities, and doing so utterly bankrupt of Christian morality? Does the existence of Christianity negate all this history? Did morality not exist before Christ was ostensibly born and spent his short, hippie life preaching love and peace? Life did not begin when Christianity was born, and it will not end when Christianity does.

Morality has some very basic aspects that pretty much every civilization understands—with or without the imposition of some kind of overarching religious dogma to reinforce it. Pretty much anyone in the world is born with empathy. Pretty much everyone in the world, regardless of religion, knows to murder is wrong. Pretty much everyone in the world enters it with a desire to be thoughtful and kind to others. It is the programming of the immediate environment that fine-tunes how a child will grow up. And the society in which you are raised will determine, ultimately, who you are going to be. Children have shown, again and again, that acceptance and kindness is just part of their natural spirit. It is often the families themselves that teach that child whether to be accepting or not to; it is the family themselves that teach a child that it’s okay to hate. And it is the how those families choose to act and believe that will shape their prejudices. Whatever society and religious background you end up in, you may likely reflect whatever those norms are. Morality, at least the very foundation of morality; is inherent. Whatever else is placed upon you by your upbringing. And what one people think is moral, might be repugnant to another. Morality is mostly relative.

An extremist always believes he or she is the pinnacle of morality. Those ISIS guys, they’re not going around telling themselves that what they are doing is amoral. They believe that they are representing the purest of moralities when they murder and destroy. When Christian extremists attack or protest, they believe they are the defenders of moral behaviour, and they are showing the rest of the world that this is how one should be.

Most atheists are humanists. If you don’t know what a humanist is, let me define it for you (per google): Humanism is a philosophical and ethical stance that emphasizes the value and agency of human beings, individually and collectively, and generally prefers critical thinking and evidence (rationalism and empiricism) over acceptance of dogma or superstition.

Most human beings of their own agency, are moral. Most human beings don’t kill one another. They don’t harm, they don’t steal. Most human beings of their own agency are kind. They share. They heal. They provide. They soothe. They show empathy. There are infinite numbers of people who are these things without once ever being told to by a religious doctrine.

Atheists are in no way different. In fact, Atheists are often willfully empathetic, and kind, and accepting because that is the way they choose to be. Choosing not to take part in a collective delusion does not in any way affect how they are as moral beings. In fact, they are less likely to be amoral, because they do not have any overarching guideline that tells them they should be. They don’t have views that make them ‘moral extremists’, as let’s say, ISIS, or the Evangelical Christians, or the KKK.  Westboro Baptist Church and its mentally deranged acolytes truly believe they are morally superior when they protest a veteran’s funeral with hateful signs and threats of fire and brimstone. Atheism does not seek to impugn anyone for not sharing their version of morality. Atheism does not threaten hell or damnation for those who don’t align their beliefs with theirs.

The moral high ground: Who’s got it?

Well, sad to say, it isn’t Christians. Especially these days. Historically, Christianity has shown itself to be anything but moral. From the serial, almost systemic abuse of children in the churches, to the consistent oppression and belittling of the women in its ranks, Christianity seems to be better suited to demonstrate amorality than anything else.

Presently, Christianity has become almost willfully and malevolently amoral. As it has attached itself to the right-wing political movement, Christianity has twisted into something even more despicable and horrible than it ever was. Promoting and supporting self-centric behaviour, supporting the idea that every person should have the right to be police, judge, jury and executioner in their promotion of firearm ownership, in the endorsement of things like the death penalty, in the cutting of resources for the poor, the old, the infirm and the ill. And it doesn’t stop there. Christians overwhelmingly voted for Donald Trump, and various congressmen and women who have made some terrible moral choice, and continue to stand by them. Trump’s offenses are almost too many to count. Offenses, that if imposed by any other person centered on the political spectrum, would have been tarred and feathered for. Roy Moore, a man who serially abused teenaged girls, received an outpouring of support from the Christians in the nation—and he too stood for the idea of Christian morality, while trying to excuse away his molestation of children. Yet these people, like Kim Davis, are morally corrupt by every definition, even by the ill-defined tenets of the bible, still have the stones to stand up and preach morality to people in books and speeches, as if they are somehow ordained to do so, in spite of being some of the most morally questionable people on earth.

Christians are besieged by their own hypocrisy. And that is a problem. Hypocrites don’t get to dictate how other people should behave if they themselves cannot abide by their moral beliefs. It has become almost painfully evident just how hypocritical Christianity is, since it became synonymous with politics. Christianity’s stance on abortion would probably be more impactful if the larger part of women seeking abortions weren’t Christian, or if the churches would do more to fight on behalf of the millions of unwanted, unsupported children in the world. Christianity’s rigid views on homosexuality would probably have more footing if pastors and priests weren’t consistently hiding homosexual activities. Christians would be better respected, if they took a hard stance on the pederasty that is endemic in the churches, and didn’t fight so hard to hide the problem rather than confront and stop it. Christian women would probably be taken more seriously, if they didn’t stand for their own subjugation and oppression. Christians would benefit from re-examining its condemnation of adultery when adultery and divorce were not part and parcel of the Christian community. Christian charity would be more valued if it didn’t always come with a side of indoctrination. Kindness should not come with conditions.

Many Christians will argue that no Christian is perfect, and that is part of their spiritual journey. But the response to that is simple: We don’t expect perfection. What we do expect is that a person who claims moral superiority as a Christian, to actually BE a Christian as they claim. To abide by those moral guidelines they set for themselves, and cherry-picked from the bible, and to stop twisting their moral guide to suit whatever madness they choose to pursue.

So who has the moral high ground? What we do know, it’s not Christianity. It’s not Islam. It’s not Judaism. All belief systems are morally questionable. Atheism, as it is not a belief system, simply makes conclusions on what’s there. Atheists seek only to trust their own agency in what is good and what is bad. And atheists seem to be doing a good job of it. Does that mean atheists have the moral high ground? Who knows? What I do know is that atheism has no ulterior motives. The only thing most atheists want is to have a reasonable, rational world where what’s best for humanity is taken into consideration first—where the quality of life takes precedence over some idealized idea of the afterlife. Where we take care of other human beings and always seek progress as a species so that we can achieve greater things. Atheism does not want to hinder progress, to stifle man’s potential, to cure, to build, to forge paths into the future, to educate, to enlighten, and to learn. Religion has, historically, always stood in the way of these things, for whatever reason.

Atheists are reviled for one reason alone: theists are filled with doubt. The only thing that reinforces their beliefs is to be surrounded by others who support that belief. Atheists stand to dismantle that comfortable delusion with pragmatism, and that is dangerous and threatening to a theist. It fills them with fear because it would force them to understand the world in a completely different way. That is why atheists are accused of being amoral. Because there is nothing scarier than someone who punches through the overarching dogma to see the world for face value, and not for the fantasy created by religion, and who functions with kindness, empathy, and acceptance without being told they must or how to.

Religion is not morality. It’s narcissism.

How self-centered does a person have to be to believe that god is watching over them and not others? The other day, I was in a discussion with a woman who told me with no small amount of gushing alacrity, that Jesus was with her. Through her trials and tribulations, through a crisis with her son, that took her to California and back, “Jesus was with me. All the way,” she effused with her hands clasped. “He was with me in the car driving down to California. He changed the radio stations as I went along, in a way to inspire me,” she declared (never mind that she might be shifting from one broadcast signal area to another… c’mon). I sat there, watching her rapturous exclamations, and thought to myself: What about those Christians that were made to kneel on the edge of a large pit by extremist Muslims, shot in the head and buried in it? Or the children being murdered and raped and dying of disease all over the world? What about them? Jesus cared about what radio station you listen to, but who the hell cares about the innocents being slaughtered? Would god only look after certain Christians? Different denominations? Or is the the Mormons who have it right? Which one? Yours, naturally.

It is an exercise in narcissism to be religious. To believe that a god loves you more. Who cares about where you left your car keys, but who lets entire cities be destroyed. Prayer is just a way of turning any issue into something about you. And religion lets you believe that all of this is a moral way to behave. To be so selfish. To be so absorbed in yourself and your journey to the afterlife living in the clouds playing softball with the apostles.

Selfishness is not moral. Even in its act of kindness, there’s self-serving motives when it comes to a church. As I said before, religious charity comes with indoctrination. In the end, religious people don’t have the monopoly on morality. Maybe they do on self-absorption and indignant righteousness, and on pointing fingers and attacking and threatening people who don’t align with their beliefs. But they sure as hell don’t own morality by any means.

So my suggestion to all Christians, before you start condemning others for amoral behaviour and attacking people for not sharing your beliefs; look in the mirror before you open your mouths. Look at what's scowling back at you. And learn to accept that it's ugly, or learn to be your own agent of morality, and rise above your dogma to be a better person.

Sunday, April 2, 2017

HC, where have you been? Dealing. I've been dealing.

It's not unusual for me to go dark around the holidays and come out of hiding come the end of February, but add to that a medication issue, and you've got someone who is high-anxiety, low-spirits and all around distracted and unproductive.

Yes. I'm alive. I have been however, struggling a great deal with my brain chemistry, and in part, it's given me little energy to focus with. I have been writing. That's a good thing. And doing some editing work to finish up the next two books I will be releasing this year. But I haven't done much else except try to take care of my kid and sometimes, even myself.

I started going back to talk therapy for one. And my anti-depressant seems to have hit the two-year poop-out, and stopped working, so my doctor doubled the dose, and I have been creeping out from under my rock to see the light, hissing and scowling all the way. But this week, I've been feeling something close to normal. Which is amazing after having spent the past quarter of a year in depression and anxiousness.

Part of my crash was the significant reduction of a creative outlet. Another part was my removing myself from the Oregon Regency Society, which took a lot (way too much) of my emotional energy, and without that, I sort of got lost. When you've had something like that to keep you focused for ten years, and suddenly there's all this open space in your head where the drama used to live, yeah, it can be jarring. It's been healthy for me to leave that aside. To give me the chance to dream up new ventures without the baggage of difficult, unkind and attention-hungry people.

In the meantime, my husband, who is a fucking hero, was talking about using our tax returns to put together some kind of she-shed for me so I could have space for my sewing, crafting, writing and miniatures without taking over the house, and without tiny fingers getting into all my stuff. It's something I've wanted for a long time. I've literally stopped sewing because it's been such a pain to hear the complaints about the mess and such.

When we realized our tax refund was a tenth of what we hoped, I was a little disappointed but didn't say anything. But hubby, who I think has been particularly worried about my state of mind lately, went without my knowledge and took out a little loan to create this little retreat for me. So this Friday, a troupe of three guys showed up with a double-long trailer full of materials, and five and a half hours later, their assemblage retreated, leaving behind Feffie's Cottage. My little she-shed.

A trailer of bits and bobs arrived at noon.

Leveling took about 15 minutes. The blocks were arranged, and the
floor frame was made in record time.


They built the walls, tyveked them, put windows
in, etc, before they lifted them in place.

They spread the two end walls to make the fourth outside
wall.

The bit left unfloord was for the decking.

Wall 4 goes up.

Then it's time to put in the porch wall.




Then one guy goes up and puts in the rafters for
the loft. He did the roof and rafters
pretty much on his own.

Helpers handed up materials.


Sheathing the roof. 

These guys move fast.

Metal was about to go up. Foreman was starting to
do the trim, which meant the project was almost done.

Adding the pre-built railing. Cute huh?

Adding the ridge cap and rake. finishing touches.
Trim is done.

There it is in all its glory. My she-shed dubbed 'Feffie's Cottage'.
Feffy is my nickname.
We went and bought some paint to match it to our house yesterday. It's a little humid to do that today, but it will get done soon enough. It's a dark teal blue. I also got a creamy tan called Crepe for the trim. When I was on the Behr website they suggested a colour story and I'm kind of in love. The house colour will be the Juniper Berries, which is what our main house colour is. The trim will be tan, and I'm toying with the idea of painting the door either the soft bluish white or the track green. What do you think?



This morning, my husband got up early and let me sleep in. We had some leftover flooring from my nesting period/home makeover attack when I was pregnant, so he went ahead and used it up on the floor in the cottage. It's only about 128 square feet of indoor space. Enough room for my cutting and sewing tables, a few chairs, a large IKEA shelf I plan to buy, a small armchair, and my desk and chair for writing. I have them all laid on my floorplan already.

The main 'area' is about 8 x 10 give or take.


This little bay area is about 8 x 5 and it's where my writing
desk will be (by teh window).


The loft is pretty big.

The little porch. :)


So there you have it. If all goes well this will be my creation central from now on. I'll be able to do dollhouses again and sew unrestricted. I'll post progress pics as the Feffie's Cottage takes shape.

:Squee!:

Tuesday, November 22, 2016

I'm still here. Really.

Yes. I’ve been silent for months. Well, in the blogiverse mostly. I’m rarely silent unless I’m sleeping. What have I been doing? Well… I’ve been writing books. I finished one and sent it off for editing. I’ve been working on a collaborative project with author Shéa MacLeod, which is in rewrites stage right now, and I am about two thirds through another novel. I’ve been pouring my creativity into my books. I have been given the unique gift of time; the first time since my little baby was born four years ago (Yes, he turned 4 last Thursday, I can hardly believe it). He has started preschool in earnest, which allows me nine hours a week to sit down at the local café (which is really like the town’s living room, it’s awesome), and to write freely. It’s been a while!

Playing with Friends Annie & baby Maxine
 So I am taking advantage of it. I have my crafty projects (and project-a-palooza) on hold for now. I have a desire to create pretty things with my hands, but I need to finish this novel and get these projects done before the end of the year so I have new releases for Comic-con in February. If you want to know more about these things, or more about the world of my writing, which is done separately from everything else under the nom-de-plume Miranda Mayer, please feel free to like my page on Facebook, or sign up for my newsletter from my website. I don’t email very often, only when I’m about to release something.

His first tournament.

School starts
 Other big news is I have stepped away from the group I founded, the Oregon Regency Society. I did it for a variety of reasons, but what it came down to was that there were constant issues with drama, unkind gossip being flung by people who were supposedly my friends, returned to me by people everyone respects and who were then called liars by said gossips. There was also a problem common to groups like these, and that is people with input but no actual action. There was the old problem of people who take on too much, and then cannot take responsibility for not following through, and who spew blame instead. Bottom line, it just wasn’t fun anymore. I’d been through this kind of thing once before, and I just didn’t have it in me to weather the drama to try and fix what had been poisoned. So I have cast it off the shore into the hands of others, and wish the best for it. As long as the people who have maligned and vilified me continue to be involved, I will not. I might try to play with friends again someday, and I already miss so many people, but for now, I need to just focus my energy on things that are fulfilling to me. Like my child, my creative outlets and well… me. My mental health needs to be important too.
Chilling behind my table at the Rose
City Comic Con. He's pretty deft
with the iPad.
 So I’m here, prepping for the holidays. My son’s paternal grandfather has been struggling with stage 4 cancer. My son has Bronchitis, and so does my husband, and as grandpa’s immune system is compromised by Chemotherapy, we cannot go to their home for Thanksgiving. It’s kind of sad, because my mother-in-law has been really having a rough time dealing with all of this, and to top it off, she has painful arthritis in her hip. I was going to go and help her cook the meal so she wouldn’t be miserable the whole day. But we can’t put Grandpa John in danger. So I will be cooking a small thanksgiving meal for the three of us here at home.

School time.

Waiting to go to class.
 Alex had his fourth birthday party on Saturday. He had a wonderful time, and Stephie made him the most beautiful Paw Patrol cake in history. He was so fixated on the cake, it was hilarious. It’s amazing to think that the child we never expected is now four years old. It’s crazy. It’s too fast! I wish there was a rewind button so I could go through it all again. Even the colic and the teething.


So the holidays approach. I imagine you all have plans for them. I’m excited about Christmas. More than ever since we had Alex, and this year, it’s the first year where he has as much anticipation as a child should have, and I’m excited to put the tree up with him, and to decorate the house. I intend to do it after Thanksgiving, come what may. The earlier the better. Considering how awful this year has been, we need some damned goodwill in this country. Even if there are battles to be fought still.

Class is over!

Feeding the gulls in Astoria.
 Oh! I found a kitten. So we now have another cat. She’s fecking cute. I might be a little allergic to her, but how do you tell your kid, sorry, no cat. So I’ll just manage with it. She’s a brat. So I appreciate that about her. Anyhoo, I will try to be better about snarking, crafting and journaling as I go. I won’t have any new costume posts for a while, I’m afraid. I don’t really have any desire to participate in events right now, so I don’t have any reason to sew new Regency things. But the lark may come where I will want to make a hat or whatever. So who knows? Maybe I’ll arrange a non-related event just so I can play with the people I want to play with. Time will tell.

New BFFs.

My girls started laying. Two were killed by raccoons. Hubby
shored up the enclosure, and my friend Molly gave me a couple
hens to replace my lost ones.

Halloween spookiness.

The kitten (Peppercorn), has claimed Simon as her
personal bed.

My little lion trick-or-treating homes for the first time.

Bratty McKatten

Everything Paw Patrol for his party

Kitty McAssface Von Kattenstein.

Taekwondo

The lovely cake by Just a Dash cakes (aka auntie Steph)
I’m off to forage for Thanksgiving ingredients and such, in spite of my sinus infection. See you on the flip side folks! I’ve missed this.

Wednesday, February 3, 2016

The life of an extroverted introvert.


I am an introvert. When I declare this to people who've gotten to know me a bit, they furrow their brow as if I'm declaring my conversion to religion. It's just hard to believe. In social situations, I can't shut the fuck up. I talk all the time. It's really annoying, even to me. I look at that kind of behaviour as my frantic thrashing to keep myself from drowning. It's the only way I can describe it. Internally, I'm telling myself to shut up, shut up, shut up! It's a hell of a dichotomoy to cope with.

Introversion comes in so many shades, it's crazy. There's the full on hermit, then there's the kind like me, who enjoys social interaction, but only for a certain amount of time before I'm done.  Every time I have social interaction, I need recovery time. Even if it's just making a phone call.  Having this anxiety thing added on makes it even more impossible, and adds a sense of growing panic doing things that are just ordinary to other people.

I've been having a rough time of it these past few months. I think it's a cruel machine of perpetual motion; staying home makes me even more hermit like, and more anxious, but being out drives me home again, and there you go. Anyway... I'll try not to make every post these days be about the stupid anxiety and such. But it's so much of my life I need to chill about it.

I am going to focus on some projects. I have comic con to deal with this month, plus the dreaded birthday--you all know how much I despise the birthday. Anyway, I am gonig to repaint a Monster High doll and try to costume her up too. I'm not great at sewing in miniature, but I'll give it a try. It could be a fail or a win. We shall see! I also have some gorgeous merino wool for the hair.

I've been a little 'off' on the regency thing lately. My interest levels in costuming have been Merh at best, possibly even a Gargh. But my interests wax and wane. And I just read a study that creativity is paramount to beating depression, so being creative is a great way to counteract my blahs. Now to just get the blahs out of the way enough to get motivated,

No more grumpies today! I promise. Hopefuly I'll have some fun creative posts in the next weeks or so. Happy Valentine's to all, and come by my table at Comic Con to see me if you're in Portland on the 19th, 20th and 21st of Feb.  Miranda Mayer is me. I'll be hiding behind the safety of my table, schmoozing people and hawking my pulp.

Tuesday, November 3, 2015

Project 365 - Days 260 to 300 - A double-post

Yeah, there's a need for catching up. I've been both unusually busy and overwhelmed and at the same time, completely unmotivated and exhausted.  It's been a wild 40+ days, that I have to say. From Rose City Comic Con to the trip to Pensacola and New Orleans. Here it all is in pics.

261/365 - some self-indulgence

262/365 - Rose City Comic Con
The Riker Pose

263/365 - McMenamins Edgefield for a post-convention dinner

264/365

265/365 - Alex and Annie cuddle little miss Maxine

266/365 - Some Skyping with Dad

267/365 - Some play at the local café

268/365

269/365

270/365 - Fall has arrived

271/365

272/365

273/365 - Monster Feets

274/365 - Retreat day 1 - Some gambling fish

275/365 - Retreat day 2

276/365 - Retreat day 3

277/365 - Retreat day 4

278/365 - New copper penny roof

279/365 - Passenger pacification candy
earplug bags are ready to go.

280/365 - Some fall colours before we go

281/365 - Deathhead buttons on the plane. 

282/365 -  New Orleans -- hunting for dinner

283/365 - Some Nola-themed decor at the Union Lofts

284/365 - Insectarium was cool

285/365 - the dock at my sister's home
in Pensacola. The house is on the bay
across from the naval base. We awoke to
Blue Angels practicing formations in their
F18s and Reveille.

286/365 - My morning stroll to the edge
of the dock

287/365 - Pensacola Beach. Really beautiful.

288/365 - The museum at the naval base in Pensacola

289/365 - my vow renewal bouquet.

This is our tenth anniversary. We renewed our vows on the dock by the water, and had dinner at the country club afterwards. It was a sweet, tame and intimate night.

290/365 - Last full day at the bay house

291/365 - Homeward bound. My boy loves
planes. He got to sit in the cockpit with the
captain and copilot.

292/365 - Simon really missed his dad.

293/365

294/365

295/365 - Smile mommy

296/365 - Time with friends at Ant Farm

297/365 - Light saber/Glow stick battle

298/365 - Fun at the pumpkin patch

299/365

300/365 - Deepened gold.

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