Arealism
Tuesday, 2nd March 1999Denver, Colorado [NotS]
If I were superstitious, I might expect this third attempt at getting the point across to actually work. Then again, were I superstitious, I’d have never written the first two News of the Stoopids on the subject.
The subject: theism.
And atheism.
Let’s define these terms.
A theist is one who, for whatever reason, believes in a god, deity, extraterrestrial landlord, six-foot-tall friendly rabbit named Harvey, or whatever. A theist believes that some sort of creator exists which watches over the little homosapiens of Earth as if it were playing SimCity.
An atheist is one who doesn’t believe that such a creature exists.
That should be obvious. A theist believes in gods; an atheist doesn’t. It’s absolutely that simple.
And yet….
A theist will question my definition of an atheist. A theist wants to reword the definition of an atheist into ‘one who disbelieves in gods’. Granted, at first glance, that almost looks like exactly the same thing.
But it’s not. There’s a connotation to the theistic version that, while a god exists, the atheist will ardently disbelieve in it. In other words, the theist will state that there is, in fact, a god, and that atheists are too dumb to believe in it.
Moreover, theists, by and large, want to think that an atheist not only disbelieves in a very real god, but believes, instead, and completely, in everything from microevolution to macroevolution to unicorns to six-foot-tall Velociraptor mongoliensis to whatever else isn’t described in their bibles. And that’s brilliant reasoning. Obviously, if I don’t believe in one thing, I’m going to fall for every other warped idea I encounter.
It’s not that I disbelieve in a real god; it’s that I have no reason to believe that this god exists. That’s not to say it doesn’t; it very well could. Unicorns very well could exist. Velos with pituitary disorders from Montana could very well wander about opening doors at people. It’s possible. It’s not probable, or at all likely, but it’s not absolutely impossible. It’s unproven.
Wanna know what I believe in? Nothing, actually. But there are things I accept as fact. Reality. I accept things which are real. I accept things which can be measured, weighed, autopsied, and otherwise proven. I accept that life on other planets is a possibility; I don’t believe that life from other planets has made contact with Earth. Maybe they have, but no one’s proven it to me yet. If someone proves it to me, then I’ll look into accepting visiting aliens. That seems fair to me.
I don’t even like the term ‘atheist’ much. Sure, it may only mean ‘without theism’, which is accurate, or ‘godless’, which is technically accurate, yet carries the connotation of evil, for some reason. I personally like to think of myself as a realist, since I accept things which are real. So, logically, those who believe in gods, unicorns, honest politicians, and other theoretical and unproven concepts are ‘arealists’: without reality.
So type that one into the custom dictionary of your spellcheckers. I think it’s time for it to become a new word. We’ll slide it in right between ‘phat’ and ‘WYSIWYG’.
Not that it could be that simple, of course.
Because we’d have to get the majority of homosapiens to understand it. And that’s not likely to happen. This is why:
People are stoopid.
More specifically, people are lazy primates—monkeys who do what they see, and reiterate what they hear.
An example: ‘The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God.’—Psalms 14.1
What sort of a fool would state ‘there is no god’? An atheist? No. An atheist would state, on the subject, ‘I don’t believe in gods’. Why? Because an atheist is smart. An atheist can realise that, since no one knows what in hell a god is supposed to be, it’s impossible to determine whether a god can or does exist. To be able to arbitrarily discount even the possibility of a god, one must first have knowledge of exactly what a god is. That is to say that, one would know what a god is supposed to be, and then, based on that knowledge, conflicting that knowledge against other knowledge, conclude that gods cannot, in fact, exist. What is knowledge? That’s right, ladies and germs: knowledge is gnosticism. And knowledge of the impossible is—anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Knowledge of the impossible is agnosticism.
So if agnosticism is the certainty that gods can’t exist [a bit of an impossibility in itself, since no one’s ever described a god fully] what do you call a guy who thinks gods exist, but can’t determine what those gods are like, or what purpose they serve? Here’s a hint: a god is better known as a what? Five seconds Bob; what’s your name Bob. That’s right: a god is better known as a deity; and a guy who thinks that deities exist but isn’t sure why is called a deist. You get a star sticker.’act’….
And the sixty-four thousand dollar question: why did I accuse agnostics of being diet atheists in the earlier article on this topic? Yes, you in the back? Correct. For those who couldn’t hear him, it’s because I was hoping to reach idiots at their presumptive level. Unfortunately, I speak Imbecilese only as a second language, and the arealists of the world are far more adept with Imbecilese than I. Guess who the idiots tend to listen to.
Here’s a great hypothesis: did you know that atheists don’t exist? Neither did I. Apparently, atheists are either frightened christians [where I’d always assumed that most christians were frightened atheists nearing death] or devil worshippers who claim to disbelieve in the all holy Jeezuz the Lawd to better fit into society than they would as devil worshippers. Huh?!? That makes sense. Want proof how well atheists fit into this damaged planet? Goto alt.atheism sometime with a newsreader, and count how many posts belong to idiot arealists out to ‘convert’ [it’s impossible to ‘convert’ an atheist to ‘another’ religion—atheism isn’t a religion, it’s an absence of one] the realists over to their reindeer games; then hit alt.satanism and count up the number of JesusCrispies posting to their newsgroup. I had a look. One guy posted one thing to alt.satanism. It went something like ‘if you’d care to have you souls saved, please turn to god’. And that was it. Almost less intrusive than the EMails you get for seventeen trillion EMail addresses all on one CDRom for a mere $999.95. Yet alt.atheism is plagued by the little bastards, all demanding that we prove that gods don’t exist.
Which brings me to my next point. Did you know the little-known fact that my alligator, Rex, is an accomplished motorist, and that I’m constantly ringing him up to come get me in his Vector W8 when I’ve had too much to drink? You’re looking at me like you don’t believe me. Well, of course I’m getting defensive; you’re accusing me of making this all up. I’ve got an alligator named Rex, and a Vector, and he drives it all the time. Look, how am I supposed to prove it? I told you: he’s a good driver; he never gets pulled over. Why would anyone see him? He zips up, I get in, and he drives me home. Fine. You don’t believe me? Prove that my alligator has never once picked me up in his black 1993 Vector W8. I’m waiting. Give me one shred of evidence suggesting that this has never ever happened. What, just because you’ve never seen an alligator driving a three hundred thousand dollar sportscar? Ah, but does the blind man not see the stars in the sky? Perhaps those don’t exist either.
Absurd, isn’t it? Yet arealists continue to demand that we, the realists, prove that their driving alli—erm…that their gods don’t exist. And I’m all for that. Tell me what the hell a god is supposed to be, and I’ll come up with proof that the bastard is fictional. Until then, let’s get back to placing the burden of proof on the plaintiff, okay?
And what’s dumber than that? The alternative. Yup, there’s only one alternative. Either god exists, whatever the hell gods are, or the missing link would have been discovered by now. What idiot thinks that way? Besides Bill Gates, I mean. Yup: there’s really only Macintosh or IBM out there; there are no other options for computers [he typed on his Amiga]. That’s the great thing about being realistic: you’re not limited to two possibilities; a realist knows that either could be correct, or both could be wrong.
Which leads me to knowledge.
Knowledge is a great thing. It’s not a tremendously practical thing, since it only makes dumb people mad at you; but it’s still kinda cool to possess. But you know what? Getting there is still half the fun. What do you get for the guy who has everything? Batteries. And what do you get for the guy who knows everything? A coffin.
That’s right. Nothing left to learn. Life no longer has meaning [but you knew that] and you can go now. Thanks for playing, have a copy of the home game, bye bye now.
Because, what’s the real meaning of life? Education, and entertainment. And those can generally be found in the same place. I’m not talking about making math fun, or fifteenth century history interesting; I’m talking about that cool feeling you get when you happen across something you never knew about before. Knowledge is really the anticlimax to learning it in the first place.
Those of you with an idea of the general definition of gods can probably guess what’s about to happen here.
Gods, so they say, are omniscient. That is to say that they know it all. Every little detail. It’s BC4000ish, and you’re a god. You’re about to create the multiverse. You know everything that’s about to happen throughout the rest of eternity. You’re going to make a bit of light; it’s going to be good; better still would be a bit of darkness; you’ll make that too; you’ll separate the light from the darkness and the light will be called Day and the darkness will be called Night; the firmament will be called heaven; the waters will be called seas; the land will be called Earth; the bloke will be called Adam; the chick to his left will be called Eve; your right-hand man will be called Lucifer; he’ll piss you off and you’ll send him to hell; he’ll talk Eve into eating an apple; you’ll have to invent death; the groundhog will see his shadow; there will be a blizzard; the phones will be down; there’ll be no way out of town; you’ll memorise every damned thing that happens on 2nd February; the groundhog will see his shadow; I got you Babe; this kid will fall out of the tree; the tyre will go flat; the MC will choke on a steak; the groundhog will see his shadow; you know everything that will ever happen over the next six thousand years and beyond.
But that’s okay: you’re a god. You’re omnipotent. You can change things so that they happen differently and surprise you.
But then you won’t be omniscient anymore. You’ll be an idiot without a clue.
But that’s okay: you’re a god. You’re omniscient. You can see things before they happen and see that they are good and etched in stone.
But then you won’t be omnipotent anymore. You’ll be a feckless, impotent loser.
But that’s okay: you’re a god. The groundhog will see his shadow. This winter is never going to end, as long as that groundhog keeps seeing his shadow….
But that’s okay: you’re a god. Some idiot’ll believe in you anyway.
But probably not one whose alligator drives a Vector.
Isn’t it ironic that theists believe in gods, but don’t believe in atheists. Atheists don’t exist. What a perfect logic that is. I mean, if I didn’t exist, I’d—
Hey….
Wait a minute….
Wait a tick….
If I didn’t exist, no one would expect me to pay taxes anymore. If I didn’t exist, I’d never get another speeding ticket. If I didn’t exist, I could accomplish anything. I’d be omnipotent. I’d be a god.
Oh damn. I think I just figured out how this all got started in the first place.
There’s a god! And he’s an atheist!
Just kidding =)
But you see how that could happen. A bunch of idiotic arealists decide that there’s no such thing as an atheist, which makes everyone have to accept the possibility of an atheist exclusively on faith; and then the faith-inspired version becomes embellished to hell [my sister’s cousin’s roommate’s dog’s friend knew someone who had heard about this other guy who says he met an atheist once; and the atheist had these red glowing eyes and a Vector and his alligator was driving and I guess he was real scary-looking and he had, like, power over the wind or something because he caused a tornado and took out a whole town—cit—sta—uh—continent—yeah, it was a continent—it was called Atlantis, I think, and he was, like, you wouldn’t want him to get angry at you and he only gets angry and sends you to eternal sogginess in Atlantis if you don’t believe in him so if you ever meet anyone who doesn’t believe in atheists just don’t listen to them because anyone who doesn’t believe in atheists is an evil fool] and sooner or later, there will be a new doctrine on Earth. And that doctrine will be known to all and one as proatheism. And the Atheist shall look upon the Earth and see that it is good. And the Atheist who is our invisible, unproveable myth shall rule from afar, yet not too far because long-distance rates are still outrageous even in the information society. And the Great AllKnowing Atheist shall smite down the disbelievers to a watery grave in the vestiges of the City Which Sank and the little fishies shall feed upon the eyes of the damned and Jacques Cousteu is dead so no mortal shall find the gaping optical cavities of the damned and they will be lonely and wet for all of eternity.
And herein is written the opinion of the Great Atheist Gremlin; and none shall oppose the Holy Opinion and stay reasonably dry.
—Gremlin