Good Riddance, 2010! Happy New Year!

It seems that all the people I talk to have the same sentiments: 2010 sucked! Such awful things happened to me and others around me, it just makes me want to scream! AAAAAAAAAAAGH!

Nope. That didn't help. I still hate 2010. If I had a cartoon I could put up, it would be a charicature of me, with a maniacal look, chopping 2010 to leetle beety pieces with an ax.

I am determined that 2011 will be the my year to really knock it out of the park into a whole different realm.

My biggest regret this evening is that I won't get to start the year with a kiss. Oh well. I haven't done that in 41 years, I suppose one more year won't kill me.

Every year, I'm looking to find a theme. Like the year I learned hypnosis, my theme was "Gentle Change". This year, my theme is inspired by one of my favorite cartoon moments: "Kick It! 2011"!

Open Letter to The Food Network

Dear Food Network,

Let me begin by saying how much I enjoy your programming in general. Alton Brown, Giada De Laurentiis, Ina Garten, Guy Fieri, ... they are some of my culinary heros. I would estimate that I spend a good 75% of my  viewing time with your channel. However, I have a bone to pick with you.

I hate your commercials.

Oh, not all of them. Just the ones that are nasty.

I don't appreciate it when I'm groovin' on Paula Deen, all fried and buttery, or Anne Burrell talking about her big beautiful [chicken] breasts then, all of a sudden, I'm watching an ad about dirty catheters. It's like eating at a restaurant and someone puts a dirty ashtray on a plate. Actually, it's worse. It's like someone pissed on my plate. In front of me. While I'm taking a bite.

I will say that I don't mind the ads about the mail-order diabetic supplies. I can tolerate ads about mesothelioma. But the dirty catheter ads? They are simply in the poorest taste imaginable.

It occurs to me to ask: don't you have anyone that reviews your ads for appropriateness?
Surely your marketing department can find better advertisers than a catheter company.

I hope that in the future, your viewing public may expect a higher quality service from you.

Love and butter,

Robert Pickett

Let's Hear What Short People Have To Say: 2011

Now that I've posted what the Christian Science Monitor thinks are some great ideas for 2011, let's hear your thoughts about it.

What do you think could happen in 2011 that would make the world a better place?


Here's a few of my own ideas:

• I win the lottery and start a little cafe.
• The War on Drugs is ended and the money refunded to the public.
• Jennifer Aniston gets a blockbuster movie role.

Not a bad start, eh?

May we all figure out what we want in 2011!

Unbelievable Acts Of Stupidity, Episode 1

Found this video link on AMERICAblog - New York Sanitation workers repeatedly smashing into someone's car while being videotaped by an observer. Oh, it's sweet. Especially when the back bumper falls off. My favorite line: "You gotta hear the crunching!"

BTW, this video contains adult language. I mean, c'mon! It was filmed in New York!

This Commercial Is High-larry-us!!!

Healthy Choice, a frozen food company, has really tapped into a particular spirit with this commercial. I've seen the others in the series and it's exceptionally funny. Because it's true. This is the "Office Space" of commercials. Click on the title.

CSM: Ideas For A Better World In 2011

I thought you might enjoy this article from The Christian Science Monitor. Don't sneer. The CSM has a reputation for it's high standard of journalistic excellence.

Some of these ideas are interesting, others are just stooo-pid, like the need to eliminate "doping" in professional sports. Really? I never knew that stopping athletes from taking drugs was going to make the world a better place. I'm sure my life would be changed immeasurably. (More like UN-measurably, if that was a word.)

Still, an idea that purports to be something good for the world deserves to be heard regardless of my personal feelings. I hope you discover an idea that inspires you. Click on the title.

Took A Few Days Off

Work and the holidays took a small toll on me this last week, so I decided to take a break from the blog. Now that the holiday marathon is over, I can sit back and regale (irritate?) you folks with more on spirituality, religion, politics, and some miscellaneous thoughts.

I'm considering keeping my posts down to twice a week, unless a time-sensitive issue arises. That'll give me time to develop my thoughts offline, instead of having to be plugged in the whole time I'm writing. (Apparently, my internet connection doesn't like the way I do that.) I'll keep you posted - no pun intended - on how I decide to go with that.

Of course, I'm always interested in subjects that interest you. As I've mentioned before, feel free to email me and suggest something. You can send it to: colossal.rob@gmail.com.

Be Afraid. Be Very Afraid.

Look forward to more information about buddhism, marijuana legalization, my open hatred for the Nazi Pope, and fun stuff like that! Oh, wait until I dissect "The Wizard of Oz". (claps hands) I've been waiting to tackle that one for a long time!

Something I Do Miss About Seattle

I moved from Seattle about three months ago to Idaho. It's a long and sordid tale. I long for the Oriental restaurants of Chinatown and the pho that has become as ubiquitous as Starbucks. One of my favorite meals is the Vietnamese bahn mi. It's a sandwich made on crusty french roll with pork, chicken, or tofu, shredded pickled carrots, daikon, jalepenos, and mayo and sometimes pate. And they are cheeeeeeeeep!

Anyway, Sheye, a friend of mine, posted this link on Facebook. Thanks, Sheye! Click on the title!

Bahn Mi, oh my!

What Are You Afraid Of?

Ezra Bayda, a buddhist teacher in San Diego, has written a wonderful article about the three things we fear most: the fear of losing safety and control, fear of aloneness and disconnection, and the fear of unworthiness. Click on the title to follow the link.

This article really spoke to me. Bayda writes: "It’s interesting that one of life’s most vital lessons is something we are never taught in school: how to be at home with ourselves." I hope you enjoy his perspective.

Another Wonderful Secular Christmas Song

After I just shat all over Christmas ealier today, here's another one of my favorite modern Christmas songs! Doesn't it just make you wanna get up and dance?

Vatican Blames Children for Molesting Priests

Actually, it's the priests doing the molesting but the Vatican does blame the children, more or less. Rats-ass-inger says that the Catholic priests are victims of a society that tolerates pedophilia and child pornography. Um, since fucking when? Click on the title to go to the article on Yahoo News.

Ewww! Maybe not "anything".  Even I had standards.

If I had known I could get raped by a priest (for free, even!), I'd have joined the Catholic Church ages ago. When I was 14, I was ready to screw anything with two feet. (The thought of four feet was just too yucky to contemplate, even for this horny fucker.) All you folks that think your little boys are such angels, let me assure you that the moment the initial surge of testosterone hits our system we turn into little sexual devils. It's just that some of us hide under our halos better than others.

Anyway, what do you expect from a former Hitler Youth except for a lack of ability to accept responsibility?



What's Wrong With Christmas?

I take a lot of lumps around this time of the year because of my open dislike of Christmas.



This is not to say that I am unappreciative of the cards I've received from a few very well-meaning individuals. It's nice to be remembered, even in a small way, and I know you well enough to know it comes from your hearts. I love you guys.

HOWEVER ...

Let's face it: Christmas is a toxic extension of a religion that has become spiritually poisonous.

I could go into all the tired ways that people have hashed out the problems with Christmas - the outright deceit of Jesus' December birth, the commercialism, the insanity of shopping, the constant bitching about it, stress and suicide, etc.
Right now, I'm gonna pick on something no-one has touched so far: Christmas carols.

Just for the record, I loved Christmas carols while I was growing up. L-O-V-E-D them. Even now, my favorite is still "O Holy Night". Whenever I hear it, it makes me want to cry. (I know, I sounded like John Boehner just then.)

If you pay attention, the traditional Christmas carol is the distillation of what is supposed to be the best aspects of Christianity. Let's use "O Holy Night" as an example. Here's the lyrics of the first verse and the chorus:

O holy night! The stars are brightly shining,
It is the night of our dear Saviour's birth.
Long lay the world in sin and error pining,
'Til He appear'd and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.

Fall on your knees! O hear the angels' voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born;
O night divine, O night, O night Divine.

Have you ever paid attention to what this song is about?
Re-read the words. Say them aloud. This song acknowledges that men live in sadness and misery. It's a call to look above and beyond. It says there is something greater than ourselves and we should be filled with awe, humility, and also ...  hope. C'est beau.

Here's another one of my favorites, "God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen":

God rest ye merry, gentlemen,
Let nothing you dismay,
For Jesus Christ our Saviour
Was born upon this day,
To save us all from Satan's power
When we were gone astray:

O tidings of comfort and joy,
comfort and joy,
O tidings of comfort and joy.

Translation: Life sucks, man, but don't let it harsh your mellow. The Dude came and, like, died to help our sorry asses. It's good news. Don't worry, be happy. (Doo-doot-doot-doot-doot-doo-be-do ...)

CHEESE AND RICE! SO WHAT, ROB?

So what? Seriously?

If I presented myself to you in one way and then acted in a manner inconsistent with that, what would you call me? You'd call me a liar, a fraud, a criminal. You'd shun me and, if the situation warranted, you'd take me to court. However, the great majority of people voluntarily participate in something that puts on a ho-ho-holiday facade of love, hope, and forgiveness while extreme practitioners of the religion run rampant spreading an INEXPLICABLE doctrine of hate. Hate of women's reproductive rights. Hate of reason and rationality. Hate of homosexuals. Hate of Muslims. Hate of science. Hate of peace and fellow-feeling. Hate of everything and everyone that doesn't agree with them. You've watched FOX, haven't you?

Christmas has become the prime representation of a religion that has rotted from the inside out. "Tidings of comfort and joy" -  MY ASS. "Fall on your knees"? Yeah, and suck a big fat one. The current message of American Christians is one that lacks reasonable discourse and is filled with threats, ignorance, and violence.

Are you afraid of Muslims and Sharia? Heck, Christian Sharia is on its way. Every day you stay silent against the madness - the INSANITY - of injecting religion into politics, you willingly assist in the establishment of an oppressive American theocracy that will trample every citizen in a way that will make the Spanish Inquisition look like a little girl's tea party.

THAT'S WHAT'S WRONG WITH CHRISTMAS.

Integral Options Cafe: Chris Hedges: Every Act of Rebellion Helps Tear Down Our Corrupt System

Whether you consider yourself a rebel or if you're a citizen discouraged by the status quo, you may find comfort in this writer's experiences and perspective.
Integral Options Cafe: Chris Hedges: Every Act of Rebellion Helps Tear Down Our Corrupt System

Not SO Bah-Humbug ...

This is definitely my favorite modern Christmas song.

Statistics Can Be Fun! Whodathunk?

One of the amenities that blogspot offers is statistical analysis of who is viewing a blog. Tonight, I found out that in the last week, I've had 240 views from the United States, two from Canada, two from Croatia, and one each from Russia, Germany, and Denmark. Already, I have an international audience. How exciting!

Group hug!

 Oh, wait ...

Ooops! Where'd that come from?

Ah, here we go:

That's more like it.

But seriously, thank you, everyone. This blog can't be a success without you. 

As you know, this blog is mostly about spiritual discovery and related religious subjects, some about politics, and a bit about my day-to-day life. If there are any burning questions you'd like to talk about in those topics, feel free to email me and we'll jump into it.

Those Hyundai Ads on TV

Have you seen the Hyundai ads on TV with the pretty young lady and the nutball, bearded guy singing Christmas songs? They are Natali Dawn and Jack Conte; together they are Pomplamoose Music. (Piece of trivia: while studying French, I learned that "pamplemousse" means "grapefruit".) Anyway, they are well-known on YouTube for their unique take on editing music videos, their unusual creativity, and their awesome sense of humor. It's about time they got noticed for their talent.
This is the first video of theirs I found. Enjoy!

Conversation with Left-For-Dead

A guest came in tonight that had been beaten and left for dead on the side of the road several months back. While at my counter during check-in, Guest (in the interest of privacy and safety, I am omitting the name of said guest), while relating issues regarding the upcoming trial, started exhibiting what seemed to be symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) . Guest started having trouble breathing, eyes were wide in terror, body began to hunch over.

"Look at me. Breathe," I said calmly. "Stretch your arms high and breathe again. Keep looking at me. Do you trust me?"

"Yes, you're a very nice person," Guest says.

"Thank you. Now, ask yourself, 'are you in danger right now?'" Guest starts to get wide-eyed again. I firmly pat Guest's hands on my desktop. "BE HERE RIGHT NOW. Are you in danger, right NOW?"

"No, I'm fine," Guest says. Predictably, Guest's breath normalizes.

I explain that while the doctors did a great job fixing Guest's body (Guest nearly died five times on the way to the hospital that night), sometimes they forget to tell the patient that the soul needs attention in order to heal. The immediate breathlessness and anxiety Guest experienced can be remedied by focusing on the five senses. What do I feel? What do I smell? What do I hear? Over and over again. Assess your surroundings, is it really immediate danger you are getting warnings about? Or is it your imagination getting away with you?

Guest begins to cry a little and starts to tell me a little more about the incident, which is just harrowing. I recommend Guest seek out a counselor that specializes in severe trauma, ASAP. I also explained a quick-fix self-hypnosis technique that can help to calm the mind.

Honestly, it's neither my job nor my place to provide counseling. When I was in bartender training, that's one of the first things you learn - the Hollywood idea that the bartender can be your therapist is WRONG. However, what are you supposed to do when they are breaking down in front of you?

SIGH. You help them.

Changing The Language Is A Good Start

We tolerate smokers. We tolerate gays in the workplace. We tolerate everything that comes our way.
This guy says "How about mutual respect, instead?" AMEN, BROTHER!

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/rajiv-malhotra/hypocrisy-of-tolerance_b_792239.html

Dreams: Yo, I Don' Want No Scrubs

Some of you know that I put a lot of stock in dreams. I've learned over the years that my dreams are strong messages from my subconscious, not just random, meaningless images. I've solved math problems, been given warnings, and learned wonderful truths about myself. If you haven't been, it's well worth your time to keep a journal and examine your own personal symbology. You are your own best therapist.

The other night I laid down for a catnap. I was a little agitated but didn't know why. I dreamt that I was in a ward for psychics, wearing a blue hospital gown. My hair was a bit shaggy, like when I was a child. I was part of a group. We were told to make a map of our imagination and identify two major issues of why we were there, assign them numbers, and then go to that floor of the hospital and we would receive answers to those problems. I drew a number of boxes to represent a floor plan

and assigned one box a five and the other a seven.

First, I went to the fifth floor. I sat down with a doctor in a big red restaurant booth. We talked about a relationship I'd had several years ago. I came away understanding that there was nothing I could have done to salvage it. It was doomed from the start. I felt a sense of acceptance that I knew would allow me to finally move forward. I thanked the doctor and left.

I started looking for the elevator to go to the 7th floor. For some reason, there wasn't just an up or down button to push, you had to select the actual floor number you wanted. I couldn't find the seven. I started getting upset. A medical technician, trying to be helpful pointed to a button and told me that was for the 7th floor. But when I looked, it was a 5. I became angry and told the tech that I wasn't angry at her, but that when I looked at the number, it appeared to be changing. I could see on her face she was a little bit saddened. Suddenly, my agitation went through the roof. I started babbling because I knew what was waiting for me on that floor: something life-altering. I was scared. "He [the doctor] wouldn't do that to me. I have to trust him. I know I can trust him. If I go up there they'll kill me or lobotomize me. That's what I would do if I were him. It would be the right thing, the best thing ..." and on and on.

A crowd of doctors, nurses, and technicians starting to form around me as I babbled on. They didn't say a word but started linking their arms and smiling gently at me.

I realized that they were going to kill me right there. I started crying and pleading with them, telling them that I didn't want to die and there were things I still wanted to do and see. When they had all assembled around me, arm in arm, they started to close their eyes, and lie down encircling me on the floor. I felt my dream self become very drowsy until I sat down, too. I fell asleep in my dream.

Suddenly, a sense of peace came over me that I've never felt before. All the agitation I'd been feeling dissipated. My mind was quiet and I felt a sensation of goodness, of wellness. I woke up and realized "Hey! I'm still alive!"

Some of the symbology of the dream is obvious, such as the hospital. Hospitals, nurses, and doctors represent a need to heal physically, mentally, and spiritually. I was confused about the elevator, so I consulted a website that I highly recommend, called "dreammoods". Elevators represent the ups and downs of life, among a few other things. Taken together, hospitals and elevators represent the need to give myself time to heal from my life journey. I've been pretty bruised and battered over the last ten years: failed love relationship, fired from several jobs, branded as a security threat, been evicted, went from well-heeled to practically barefoot. Ouchy.

However, now I have a place to live and have to do very little in exchange for it. It's becoming a situation where I can literally pick and choose to work or not because one of my desk clerks is leaving. Things are improving in tiny bites that are easy to absorb.

For the first time in my life, I have a place where I can take the time to just relax, to just think - or not. I can finally stop running from job to job and place to place, reacting wildly to the world around me. I can finally take the time to take control, when I'm ready. I think that's the best part. There's no hurry.

Understanding this is better medicine than having a portable morphine drip.

Off With Their Heads!

I almost missed out on what's going on in the UK. Goverment spending has been cut for education and university tuition has tripled. TRIPLED! Did the plebes take this sitting down? Hell, no! Read about the student response here.

Here is an interview with one of the protestors:

Coming In The Near Future (Or So)

So, I just want to thank the people that have been reading so far. Not many, but what do I want after just a week, right?

I just want to assure you that I'm delving into the world of blogs to see what others are doing right. I hope to add some of my own photography soon. Also, at the urging of a friend, I may take out a YouTube channel for myself and begin to publish some of my longer posts as mini-video lectures. That way you can view the longer stuff instead of scrolling constantly.

C'mon! I'm doing all this for you! Give a little love! LOL!

Do You Feel Stuck In Your Life?

My good friend, Bridget McKenna, appears as a guest blogger at Hypnosis 101, writing about "nominalizations" from the standpoint of a neuro-linguistic programming (NLP) practitioner. A very talented writer and NLP Master, she has explained this potentially complicated topic in a manner everyone can understand.

NLP is a way of examining how language becomes the structure of our lives and alternately enhances or inhibits us. That's a really hack way of explaining it; I do the best I can.

"Nominalization" is when a verb becomes a noun through a form of mistaken identity. Then, you begin to accept this as part of your own identity. We can become stuck when this happens. NLP can help to review and readjust our thinking in regards to these nominalizations, waking us up to potential that we may have forgotten over time. Bridgette explains it much better than I do.

I hope you enjoy her article as much as I did.

Conversation With My Desk Clerk

I don't want this blog to be too serious (in case the jpgs of Homer Simpson and pimps didn't tell you that in the first place). So, from time to time, I'm going to include little vignettes of my life. Like this one!

Last night I went to relieve the desk clerk where I work. He's a nice kid, about 21 or so, engaged to be married in a year. While we were talking shop and he was closing his shift, I saw some strange multi-colored-pillowy-fringey things behind him on the desk.

Me: "Oh, hey. What's that behind you on the desk?"

"Those?" He walks back, picks one up and puts his hand inside it like a puppet. "I'm getting ready to wrap these to put under the tree as gift decorations."

"You're making fake gifts? For decorations? Why?"

"Well, my fiance and her mother ..." That's when it hit me and I interrupted him.

"You got suckered into a girl project!" I exclaimed.

"What? No! I ..."

"You got suckered! You got suckered!" I was literally dancing a little jig in the lobby and laughing my ass off.

He just stood there staring at me, lips pressed tightly together.

I stopped and faced him at the desk.

"Wait till I blog about this tonight!"

Dirty Little Freaks

I've never felt comfortable with the scrubbed-for-Sunday crowd. There's something about them that makes me fidgit. You know who I'm talking about - the Christians that are so sugary sweet that you feel like you're getting cavities just standing next to them. They wear a facade, like their faith is the glaze on a day-old donut that obscures the truth of the staleness underneath.

I tried to fit in. Oh, how I tried. I'd put on my shirt and tie, my suit jacket, and my freshly shaved mug. (Jehovah's Witnesses do not approve of beards on their men. They see it as a symbol of the counter-culture. They won't criticize you to your face but you will be denied higher privileges in the religion because you are viewed as "spiritually immature" and ... ooo, even worse ... possibly rebellious.) The harder I tried to fit in, the more I realized I was totally alien and didn't belong there.

Spirituality is not a one-size-fits-all proposition. I was wrong to expect that other people would squeeze into such a tight space.
I was learning that I couldn't fit myself into that prison, either. I've concluded that it's unreasonable to think that God would feel that way about his own precious creation that was MADE to be different from one another.

There's something about the broken ones, the rougher-tougher crowd, and the not-quite-right that draws my everlasting affection. I feel more at home with them than with anyone else. The ironic thing about this situation is that while I'm not conservative enough for the traditional Christians, I'm not freaky enough for the alternative crowd. Somehow, I always find myself in the middle.

2012: A Time For Change

A few months ago, when I was still in Seattle, I saw a movie by Daniel Pinchbeck called "2012: A Time For Change" which introduced a sliver of hope into my life regarding the evolution of human consciousness and the future of the Earth. This isn't a movie that will be readily accepted by the mainstream masses because he promotes many things that are currently rejected wholesale by our culture. However, if you know where he is coming from, it's a breath of fresh air. I highly recommend seeing this if it comes to your town.

Daniel has his own blog. You can get there by following the link in his name. There is also the website called "Evolver", which may interest you. "Evolver" is more about connecting people that have these similar interests in alternative energy, environmentalism, shamanism, and many, many more subjects. It may sound like a mish-mash but I guarantee that these movements have more in common than even most of their followers may realize.

America's changing culture war | Seattle Times Newspaper

This is an interesting article on the difference between America then and now - how views on churchgoing, marriage, who is "liberal", who is "conservative", and how it's splitting along educational lines more than economic parameters, like it did in the '70s.

Opinion America's changing culture war Seattle Times Newspaper - loop

My Trip To The Food Bank

Today I went to a food bank with my sister-in-law, Danni. It's at this church called Real Life Ministries, which is a mega-church with over 8,000 members. 8,000 at this church. Apparently, they have branches in something like seven other metropolitan locations in the USA, a hospital in Africa, a coffee plantation in Nigeria, and a partridge in a pear tree. They have a whole host of social services available including the food bank, financial assistance, a thrift store, and sometimes they can even help you find a job.

Today they wanted to save my soul.

See, to get services at Real Life, you have to fill out an application and then you receive "pastoral counseling" - a couple of well-meaning volunteers sit down and interview you about where you are in your spiritual life and, more-or-less, act as pimps for the church. However, I began to wonder who was counseling who.

Starting out, they just wanted to assess where I was personally. Do you have a place to live? Are you safe? You aren't suicidal or anything? I told them what's been going on over the last six months or so, with having to move out of Seattle and into Coeur d'Alene. Overall, I appreciated that they made an expression of personal interest in me.

A-a-a-a-and then it started.

They asked me how I felt about my relationship with God, which wasn't anything I didn't expect. I mean, really. I knew I was gonna get a sermon sometime. Might as well get it over with. I very tactfully told them that I didn't believe in God. Without missing a beat, the fellow doing most of the talking asked me how Jesus figures in my life.

Um, excuse me? Did you or did you not JUST NOW hear me say I'm an atheist?

I kept smiling politely as he launched into a story about his experience coming to Christ. (God, I hate evangelical born-again-bots.) He started talking more and more about what's wrong with him. Now I'm a little insulted. LOL! I mean, wasn't the counseling supposed to be about me?

Honestly, I've had this problem all my life. Ever since I was small, it's like I have "Father Confessor" stamped across my forehead. Complete strangers will walk up to me, sit down next to me, ... whatever ... and start telling me the most intimate details about their lives. I'm everybody's Wailing Wall.

After listening to him ramble for about five minutes about how some people (him) flail around looking here or there for answers to the problems in their lives, I reached over and touched his shoulder.

"John," I said, "the thing about Jesus' teaching is this: he said that the Kingdom of Heaven is within, inside us. God speaks to each and every man and woman, if they allow themselves to quiet down enough to actually listen to the Divine voice. Salvation isn't anything anyone can give you or teach you, it's something you discover for yourself by becoming still in your heart and then allowing Him to guide you."

He stared at me and I swear his friend's mouth about nearly hit the floor.

They wrapped up the interview pretty quickly. As they were moving off, the second volunteer looked at me and says, as an aside, "I don't think you're really an atheist."

Heh. Whatever, dude.

Starting All Over Again

So, I started this blog over a year ago when I turned 40 years old. Frankly, I forgot all about it. So, now, I'm working on it again. I have a ton of time on my hands, plus, suddenly, I find I have more to say.

So, this blog will be a lot about religion and a bit about politics. It's hard to avoid combining the two, because as I've heard said, one rides the other like a drunken whore.

Oh yeah, I said it. Didn't you see the adult warning as you logged in?

Here's a little bit about me. I grew up in a little logging town on the Olympic Peninsula in Washington State. I've always had a spiritual bent. When someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I told them I wanted to be an astronaut and a minister. So, in a bout of religious mania when I was a teenager, I joined one of the most virulent religious cults in the world, Jehovah's Witnesses. I was ordained at 17, unusually young for a Witness, but not for me. (When I want something, I go after it like a pug chasing a cheeseburger.) This was in the face of strong opposition from my family. They didn't understand and I did a poor job of trying to explain it. Eh, I was young. It's an excuse but a valid one.

To make a long story short, about the time I was 28, I had a series of metaphysical experiences that led me to a discovery. I'm an atheist. I only believed in God because I'd been taught to believe and I swallowed it hook, line, and sinker. However, I respect others religious beliefs and mock them when necessary.

God and spirituality are still my favorite topics of conversation. I can't understand how anyone can go through their lives without exploring questions of the spirit. What happens after death? Why is evil allowed to exist? How can I learn if God is real? Who is the Devil? All that rubbish.

So, I'll be talking about my journey, what I continue to learn, what continues to amuse and enrage me about religion and our culture in general, and what I admire about ethical individuals in the field. I encourage civil debate. When we challenge our ideas, we learn. I refuse to debate dogma. It serves no constructive purpose.

So, without further ado, on with the show!