A Personal Journey to Atheism

One of the questions I am frequently asked is how I came to be an atheist. Personally, I don’t place a high emphasis on the details of deconversion – whether it happens gradually or in a Damascus Road-like flash is not relevant to me – and since I did not have an intense religious upbringing to break away from as many deconverts do, I thought my personal testimony would not contribute greatly to those already out there. Nevertheless, I thought it good to write it down once and for all, so as to have something to refer to when I am asked about it in the future. I make no claims that this account is completely reliable, only that it is told as truly as I can remember it.

I wasn’t raised with any particular religion. In fact, I can’t ever remember my parents mentioning the topic to me when I was a child. Nevertheless, I wondered about Christianity when I was young. I don’t remember how I learned about it, though given the way it permeates our culture, there was no lack of opportunities for me to have done so. I thought that was what I wanted to be when I was older – mainly because it seemed as if everyone else was – but the different denominations confused and worried me, as I had no idea how to choose one over any other. I used to pray at night, and sometimes I even thought I got responses, but there was never any insight, any guidance – nothing I did not already know myself.

As I grew older, this faded away, and my faith drifted toward a more generalized belief in a personal god, and then a less personal one. Until my senior year of high school, I considered myself a deist. I believed that there was an intelligent first cause behind the universe, although I did not believe in any organized religion, and indeed I considered them all human inventions and deplored the evils done because of them. I was agnostic on the existence of an afterlife, although I was certain that if there was one, holding any specific set of beliefs would not be among the criteria for admission. If you asked me why I believed as I did, I would have said that I saw too much beauty and goodness in the world to believe that it could have come about without an intelligent plan.

However, that argument was never fully satisfying, not even to me. I gradually began to realize that I couldn’t defend my belief intellectually, and it began to bother me. However, I was able to ignore this and suppress the cognitive dissonance until two events that happened in quick succession.

The first step came that year when a Muslim acquaintance of mine sent out a mass e-mail to our entire circle of friends, including me, in an attempt to convince us all that Islam was the one true religion. A heated argument ensued, and when the dust settled, no one’s mind had been changed, as might be expected. However, it was the first time in my life I had ever been given an incentive to think critically about any religion, and what struck me more than anything was the way the Muslims taking part in the discussion responded to my criticisms – not by answering them openly, but by ignoring them and trying to shut me out of further discussion. I wasn’t an atheist when it was over, but it did get me thinking.

The second and final step came my freshman year of college, when a friend from high school, whom I had always considered very intelligent, revealed to me that she was a born-again Christian and a young-earth creationist. I was shocked by this; I didn’t know very much about Christianity at that time, but I did know some things about science, and even then it was obvious to me that the creationist arguments were fundamentally flawed. As a result of some of the exchanges we had, I also began to educate myself about the Bible and Christianity. It was an eye-opening experience to learn about the many contradictions in the text and, even more disturbing, the numerous verses containing horrific violence and atrocities condoned or commanded by God. (I had already acquainted myself with some of the similar errors in the Qur’an as a result of the earlier debate, and I found it very interesting, though not totally unexpected, to see these patterns repeat across the scriptures of several major religions.)

I tried to bring these facts before my friend, out of the admittedly naïve hope that I could persuade her that her beliefs were in error. That did not happen, but I did learn a lot about Christianity in the process, even some things that my friend herself did not know. (My proudest moment was when I asked her how she could believe in a God that creates evil; when she angrily denied that Christianity taught any such thing, I cited Isaiah 45:7 to her.) But I soon became frustrated when she would not budge. After several unfruitful debates, I finally asked her one night if she believed I was going to Hell, and she said yes.

The cognitive dissonance of this overwhelmed me. Though I’d been aware, in a distant sort of way, of the evils caused by organized religion, I had never been confronted with them so starkly or on such a deeply personal level. Here was a person whom I cared about and respected, telling me with no apparent malice that she believed I was going to suffer eternal torture when I died, and more, that I deserved it. How could she possibly consider herself friends with someone whom she sincerely believed merited eternal torture and damnation?

After this exchange, I began to think clearly about this subject for the first time. So far, every religion I had learned about, all the beliefs I had come in contact with, were either factually false, morally outrageous, or both. I was certain, on a deep and fundamental level, that they couldn’t be true. But then it occurred to me: if I was so sure that other people were mistaken about religion, why couldn’t I be as well? I realized that it was time to stop believing in things I couldn’t back up, and that was the day I decided I would henceforth call myself an atheist.

But I still knew very little about atheism, and was somewhat adrift, spiritually speaking. I remember searching the internet in hopes of finding something new, something that would speak to me – and I did. It was at about this time that I came across some pages on secular humanism (I don’t even remember now which ones they were, alas), and when I read them, I experienced a profound resonance.

Here, at last, was what I had been searching for – what I now realize I had been unknowingly searching for all my life. Here was a group of people who saw the world as an awesome and beautiful place, full of mystery and wonder waiting to be discovered; people who rejected the morality of guilt and fear and still lived lives of love and kindness and understood the importance of human rights; people who acknowledged the power of science and the importance of defending one’s beliefs with evidence. It was, as C.S. Lewis put it, the echo that did not die away but swelled into the sound itself.

However, I was not ready to give up the possibility that I could be mistaken. There was still much I did not know, after all, and even though the people I knew could not defend their beliefs against skepticism, there might be others that could. Therefore, I decided that before fully committing myself to this new view of life, I would give the advocates of traditional religion one last chance to prove their case to me. If they convinced me, well and good; if they could not, I would know I had made a clean break, and could move forward in my new role as atheist and humanist with no further regret.

I e-mailed an evangelical Christian website I was familiar with, explained my situation, and asked if there was someone I could talk to. I soon heard back from one of the site’s editors, and I invited him to present his best case, to explain to me why I should believe. Over the course of a discussion, he did.

Needless to say, I was not convinced. What I remember best was that his case never, except tangentially, touched on the facts. It was never about what piece of evidence proved this or that claim to be true. It was about how Christ died for me, and graphic detail about the terrible tortures he underwent, and how could I be so ungrateful as to not believe in him after that. When I started getting impatient with this approach and asking to see the evidence that answered my questions, his tone changed abruptly, from polite and conversational to hostile and condescending, and the discussion ended soon afterward. (Looking back on this, I admit I was less polite than I could have been, and that may have been a contributing factor in the final response I got. I regret that. However, I believed at the time and still maintain that if he had had the evidence to give to satisfy my questions, I would have been easily convinced.) I also joined several Muslim discussion groups, posing a challenge or asking to debate; the invariant response I got to that was to be immediately banned from the list.

In a way, I was upset with this lackluster response at converting me. I had opened myself to their best shot, and this was all they could do – appeals to emotion and stonewalling? How could that be all they had to offer? These religions had been around for hundreds of years, had millions of adherents around the world; surely they could do better than this? It was tremendously disappointing, almost insulting, to learn that these faiths which commanded such power and respect had been built on such a flimsy foundation.

Yet at the same time, I felt strangely vindicated. It was a vast relief to learn that it was not just me, that I was not the only one in the world who saw religion in this way; that the reason so many people did not believe these things really was because they did not merit belief. It was as if a mist had cleared from my sight and I was now seeing through clear air for the first time, as if an area of the world that had always been marked off-limits was now thrown open. I felt like an explorer stumbling across a wild and new continent. That was the day I became confirmed as an atheist, and I have not looked back since.

About Adam Lee

Adam Lee is an atheist writer and speaker living in New York City. His new novel, Broken Ring, is available in paperback and e-book. Read his full bio, or follow him on Twitter.

  • BlackWizardMagus

    And I think every atheist who became one in this information era went through the same things. It is remarkable how the process is practically like clockwork, isn’t it? Sure, there are minor details and other fluff, but ultimately, everyone who deconverts, or started as an atheist and tried to discuss it with theists, goes through about the same motions, assuming they tried.

  • http://DebunkingChristianity.blogspot.com John W. Loftus

    Atheism, as has been said a number of times, merely denies one more god than any particular religion.

  • Quath

    I went from apahetic atheist to a defender of the faithless when my grandmother sent me Christian books to challenge my atheism. I would read her books and send back a detailed response about all the flaws and errors I found in the books. Her response was to just send more books.

    I wen to web pages to debate some Christians. I was careful not to present too much logic because I was worried I would destroy their fragile myths. However, I discovered that faith endures beyond logic or observation. That shocked me to the core. How could two people look at the same thing and see opposites? Like one person said that it is always wrong to kill children. I pointed out where God ordered children killed. They said that God knows best, but humans should never do it. She never even realized she had changed her viewpoint.

    But as I debated and read books, I saw the problems of religion. Inquisition, American Indian massacres, Old Testament genocides, sexual repression, endorsement of slavery, etc. I realized religion really hurts people and society. My apathy towards religion slowly evaporated. If my grandmother had not of challenged me, I may still be apathetic except when I grumble about some stupid political/religious issue.

  • Unbeliever

    Great post. I agree with BWM that all deconversion stories seem to follow the same pattern. An almost seven-stages-of-grief sort of thing. Even though I was raised as a fundy Baptist, I went through the same sort of transformation into disbelief.

    I was escpecially touched by the part about the friend who said that you were going to hell. I recently asked my wife the same question and got the same answer. Although she would never come out and say I deserve hell, it is clear that it is really what she believes, even if only in a way she won’t fully reveal. This was, and remains even now, one of the most painful experiences of my life. I have decided to stay with her, but I wonder if my marriage will ever truly recover.

    The road to truth is often a painful one. But it is still the truth. And I, for one, would rather suffer under the truth than live in blissful ignorance.

  • BlackWizardMagus

    I just have to add; sorry about your wife. I was too young when I deconverted to have that; I just had fights with my parents. Hope that works out, somehow.

  • Unbeliever

    BWM,

    Thanks for the concern. I can understand the problem with parents as well. Both my father and father-in-law are deacons in their respective churches. Rather than fights I get a collective “tsk..tsk” from all of them.

    Help! I’m surrounded by Christians!

    Seriously, I do feel that atheists and agnostics are gaining ground and therein lies my hope. More stories like this one tell people that they are not alone. I, personally, found EbonMusings to be an incredible resource to flesh-out what I believe and why.

    When my 6-year-old son asks me, “Why did God make it so people can be hurt?” I smile and say, “That’s a really good question.” He’s a thinker. And he’s not alone.

  • http://www.patheos.com/blogs/daylightatheism/ Ebonmuse

    I was escpecially touched by the part about the friend who said that you were going to hell. I recently asked my wife the same question and got the same answer. Although she would never come out and say I deserve hell, it is clear that it is really what she believes, even if only in a way she won’t fully reveal. This was, and remains even now, one of the most painful experiences of my life. I have decided to stay with her, but I wonder if my marriage will ever truly recover.

    I’m sorry to hear that. I don’t blame you for being hurt – it’s a very hurtful thing to say, especially coming from someone you care about. I’ve always said that religious belief warps the moral compass; just look at the hideous cruelties it can make normal, compassionate human beings wish upon each other. And to think they call us the immoral ones, for rejecting such a hateful idea.

    The road to truth is often a painful one. But it is still the truth. And I, for one, would rather suffer under the truth than live in blissful ignorance.

    Well said.

    P.S.: Mr. Loftus, I took the liberty of correcting a typo in your URL – I assume you don’t mind. I’m honored to see you here; your blog has been a great inspiration to me, and I certainly hope you choose to stay around.

  • tobe38

    I don’t have a deconversion story as such, but my transition to atheism took a slightly different path. I have a friend who was a Jehova’s Witness. I considered him a very close friend, we had our disagreements over various issues (such as evolution) but they never threatened our relationship (I should add that we were also colleagues at that time). Although his beliefs were strong, he’d never completely committed to the cult.

    I much later found out that he’d become an atheist. I was most surprised, but even more so when he told me that had he completely committed to the cult, he would almost certainly have eventually cut me out of his life, as the JW Cult strongly discourages friendships with non-witnesses. I was hurt and outraged at the thought that religion had almost willingly robbed me of a close friend.

    It was some time later that I became an atheist, but this definietly planted an early seed. We’re still close friends and I’ve learnt a great deal from him.

  • Radicalfeministpoet

    Somehow challenging a fundamentalist group to give you their best shot doesn’t sound like much of a, well, challenge. I’ll bet I could convert you to any number of religions (take your pick). Just give me an hour.

  • Polly

    I know this post is long after the fact. I’m afraid to ask Unbeliever how it’s going with him and his wife. :(

    To summarize my own experience:

    Xian Fundy ->biblical “errantist”->deist->agnostic->atheist

    This seems to be common, except that I zipped right through the deism stage in a matter of days. I went straight from Biblical error detection to atheist before I even fully comprehended it.

    My wife, too, is afraid that I’ll go to Hell. This neither surprises nor hurts me personally in the least. After all it’s exactly what she should believe if she’s consistent. I’m just sorry for the worry it causes her. Our relationship is still as strong as ever. And, my deconversion, though not without its hardship, has had the positive impact (from both our standpoints) of forcing her to read-up on her beliefs in order to win me back to the faith. She readily admitted that she didn’t know enough to argue with me, but she’s reading. Sometimes she says, half-jokingly, that she’ll either convert me or end up an atheist herself. I just smile.
    Perhaps this should be the attitute of any believer who unexpectedly finds him/herself married to a non-believer. Maybe those atheist spouses can make this suggestion. After all, Xians are supposed to be up to speed on apologetics, anyway.

    If we ever have children and she wants them raised as Christians I only asked her for two things:
    1)They must read the Bible cover to cover, thoughtfully and on their own. No guiding hand of a pastor to apply intellectual blinders.

    2)They must be encouraged to think for themselves.

    If after that, they still accept it. Fine. From what I’ve seen, though, a thorough reading of the Bible is enough to deconvert anybody.

  • anti-nonsense

    Heh, I was raised by non-religious parents, I was basically agnostic/atheist all my life. The crux came when I decided I wanted to learn about religion and I quickly realized that none of the religious beliefs I was reading about made sense based on what I knew about science at the time. I was 13 then, this was the year before 9/11. AFter 9/11 happened and as I witnessed the US sliding steadly toward theocracy I became more adament about my atheism.

    At this point I am more or less convinced that no God invented by any religion thus far is real, pretty much 100 percent, The christian God is logically impossible as far as I can tell, and there is no evidence for any other personal god(s) either. If a personal god exists it should by definition be knowable since it’s PERSONAL. Since we see no real scientific evidence for the existence of any such personal god, I conclude they don’t exist!

    The existence or non-existence of an impersonal god who set the laws of nature in motion and then just watched or whatever is probably irrelevant so no point believing in that. I did go through a phase at one time when I thought such a god might possibly exist but I stopped, because there is no point speculating about something that can’t be proven in any way.

  • FM

    I was raised as a Hindu, and though my parents aren’t exactly devout (though that may be because we live in a small town), my grandmother wakes up every morning at like 5 AM to pray.

    About a year before I became an atheist, a sadhu came to our town. He was white, and raised a Christian, but had converted in his college years. He said all this stuff about just thinking of God for a minute is enough to give you a lot of good karma and stuff. I used to try it, but I guess it was more like pretending and playing a game than really believing.

    My journey was pretty straightforward, because one day I was reading on the Internet and I saw the word agnostic. I read the definition, and it sounded reasonable. Later, I went back, thought long and hard, and realized that atheism sounded a lot more reasonable.

    But I am kind of dreading this summer, because I’ll be going back to India for the first time since I became an atheist, and I know that I’ll be forced to walk around in my socks while staring at an idol in a building that’s probably run by corrupt people who are only in it for the few rupees I will drop in the donation box…but I have written much too much.

  • http://www.wayneessel.com Wayne Essel

    Conversions and deconversions, in my estimation, are not permanent. That is, until they are. Beliefs seem to me to be thoughts that we use over and over because we like them. They make sense to use and help us explain our world. We may choose to discard beliefs because a crisis brought to our attention that the belief really doesn’t work for us. Beliefs appear to be emotionally seated. In so many cases, we defend our beliefs against logic because there is a slim chance that the logic may be flawed or incomplete. Some of our beliefs are given to us and we have no need to question them because they have never been seriously challenged. Others are uprooted by crisis where the belief is shown to be wrong. None of us come to our crisis-won or crisis-tested beliefs casually. All of us have some measure, great or small, of emotional investment in our beliefs and many of us derive our identities from beliefs. To casually or callously tell another that the other’s beliefs are wrong is one of the premier insults in the world, and one of the calling cards of both theist and atheist activists. Rudeness can be universal.

    It appears to me, however, that at some point the success rate and emotional investment in a belief can become so large that the belief is just no longer a candidate for review and revision. Perhaps that is when the conversion or de-conversion becomes permanent.

    I hope that when my conversion or deconversion becomes permanent I can remember the value of humility!

    This is a great web site. I enjoy reading the content. Most of it is reasonable, thoughtful and sincerely truth seeking, aka refreshing.

  • Pathfinder

    Hello, Adam, thank you for directing me to this page. I had missed it in my original (and admittedly hurried) tour of your website.

    Since everyone else has shared their own experience with religion, I think I’ll put forward mine.

    I was born in Biloxi, Mississippi. However – because my father was an air-force seargent, and subject to all of the restrictions and orders that his position entailed – we moved up to Nebraska about nine months after I was born. I lived there for ten years, and ever since I could walk I ran into evangelical christians – in fact my best friend’s family went to an evangelical church, and I occasionally joined them.

    I think that my experience with religion is somewhat uniqe – I never actually took Christianity very seriously as a child. I considered most of the things that my fundie friend and his family said about god to be nonsensical, so I really didn’t have any inhibitions against “testing” god. As such, I decided – for about a week – to pray and do about everything that my family and neigbors told me to do when it came to god, and to see where that went.

    Obviously, I was disappointed. After I administered my little exam to god, and he/she/it failed to show him/her/itself, I essentially ceased any consideration that what the ministers, neigbors, friends and family told me was true. Of couse, on the surface I was still a good little Christian boy, but I certainly was not a “True Believer.”

    Interestingly enough, it wasn’t until I was twelve that I actually heard the terms “agnostic” and “atheist,” and that’s when my official “deconversion” occured. Since then, I had been living in the closet, so to speak, until very recently; my mother walked in on me one day while I was perusing some atheistic websites, and gave me a very severe scolding that I only partially alleviated by stating that I was an agnostic – she didn’t know the term, and I had to explain it to her – and that I was carefully considering both sides of the issue (I had a fundie website open to some amusingly nonsensical preaching, and showed it to her as ‘proof’ that I had an open mind). She let me go with an admonition and the threat that she would “take away the internet if I catch you looking at inappropriate things again.” Of course that was precisely the wrong thing to say, and we settled into the polite fiction that I was no longer questioning the beliefs she assumed I had.

    A few months later she walked in while I was looking at a, rather harmless, really, knock-knock joke featuring Jesus. She attempted to confront me again, but she had to drive my sister to a softball game, and so I had about a half-hour to prepare some elaborate and detailed arguments to support my religious views. Sadly, they almost all went to waste. She entered the argument with an a-priori assumption that I was wrong, and an equally unfounded belief that the mere fact that she was older than me had anything to do with the truth of our assertions. I was seventeen at the time, and when I admitted to her that I had been thinking of myself as an atheist since twelve, she responded with something along the line of “You’re not old enough to make such important decisions at that age!”

    We “debated” back and forth for about thirty minutes; me bringing up various facts, atrocities, and arguments about religion, and she attempting to debunk (or ignore) as much of what I said as she could. She wasn’t particularly successful in that regard, and so she closed the argument by stating that she didn’t “know enough about God to talk to you about this.”

    I think it was to her advantage that she closed the argument without admitting she was wrong, at least in the parent-child relationship that we had. Although at a more personal level I was, and still am, simultaneously disappointed in her for being incapable of thinking past her assumptions and euphoric that it was so easy for me to prove (or at least present credibly) my philosophy and experiences.

    My father was at least somewhat more tolerant of my thoughts. He took the time to listen to me and seemed to consider what I said. However, he almost dogmatically instructed me to “keep an open mind” on the subject, so I don’t believe that he has a full understanding of my position (apparently my little lecture on empirical evidence and the value of the scientific method went to waste).

    The rest of my family is very Christain, and, for now, I am still in the closet in their regard.

    Wow, I wrote slightly more than I thought I was going to. I hope you all enjoyed the story ^.^

  • Mobius 118

    My own story is actually very similiar to the original Author of this website, but it’s unique in it’s own way.

    Born in Farmington, Minnesota, I’ve been born, babtized, and confirmed as a Trinity Lutheran boy. Although, the thought of God, at the time, was silly in my mind. I often thought about it, despite my young appearance, with a critical edge. I was a very observant child, stating the non-obvious with impunity. I was matter-of-fact, I was blunt, and honest about the fallacies of Christianity. Sad thing was, Every time I did so, I was slapped or spanked by my not-so-strict parents. They reserved discipline for blatent stupidities, and they reguarded questionings of faith as such.

    However, I did so anyway, showing surprising maturity on the subject. On the outside, though, I had to go to Church, vacation bible school, (Which I went to for the swordplay) and any other bull**** thing my parents signed me up for because they wanted the grace of gawd in my life.

    However, we moved to a small town in the boondocks of Minnesota, called Sleepy Eye.

    There, the religions were mainly Catholic, with a Catholic school, and Lutheran.

    There, I was granted more open debates with the crazies, without fear of getting beaten.

    At the age of 13, however, the 9/11 attack in the WTC occured while I was at school. Hearing this, I seriously began to question everything. I was ignorant of God, ignorant of Islam, and ignorant of the world. In other words, a 13 year old child in 8th grade.

    The events, the aftermath, and everything began to show the country sliding into Theocracy. I was finally opened to the world of corruption. But, the year before, I had met a girl. Her name, which will remain obscure here, rolled off my tongue with a smooth and silky sound, igniting my passion and my adolescence.

    Over the years, since then, I’ve grown to know this woman, to love her. During school, though, she and I kept religion out of our conversations, instead talking about music, movies, and TV. This will become important later on.

    During my sophmore, Junior, and Senior years, I considered myself Agnostic, having no interest in Christianity’s bull****. I was already confirmed, to placiate my mother so she’d shut up about it, and to get a few nice things like my silver watch and bed cover. It’s a comfy thing.

    One important event, though was the hike in the mountains, organized by a group at Christikon, out in Montana. A 5 day hike up in the mountains, sustained only by ourselves. Given the least experienced guides, and given inferior equipment, we set out on the hardest trail, without the car ride the other 5 groups got. Hiking for 37 miles total, we traversed the wilderness, getting lost nearly every time. I found the trail, time and again. The guide, however, thanked God every time.

    Thanking God, for finding the trail. I took it as an insult, considering I found the f*cking trails every time. My fellow friends didn’t find them, the guides didn’t, I did. When challenged, they said that God worked through me, to guide them. I told the male guide to shove it.

    As I carried the group through the woods, my old injured knee would react with every step. Asking God to heal it, as the guide suggested, pondered up the question as to why the guide got our asses lost, and that I, the agnostic at the time, had to find the trail. Silence afterward.

    For the rest of the trip, I was silent as well, helping my friends when needed. The trip only brought to my attention the delusions of these crazy Christians.

    After graduation, I went of to college in South Dakota, in the heavily Catholic town of Brookings. I had a Catholic tart as a girlfriend, till she found that I was agnostic. She ended it after 2 weeks, after 3 months of phone conversations that she and I shared over the summer. The 2005-2006 semester left me seriously questioning my faith more, what with the death in the family, and the prayers unanswered. I was debating with myself to go atheist or not. The blissful lie of Christ, or the painful truth of knowledge? I picked knowledge.

    During that time, though, I got back with my best friend, the girl whom I’ve fallen for since my moving to Sleepy Eye back in 2000.

    After many movie nights, after many weekends of planning for halloween, for parties, of drinking, of so much fun, we invariably came to a religious conversation.

    The thing that hurt me the worst, was that she felt she couldn’t fall for a man who didn’t believe in God. What was so wrong about it? I was a human, just as much as she was, with the exception of me not being deluded.

    Revealing to me that she was a born again Christian, my fear of her compartmentalized mind came to fruition. She was completely accepting of the fact that her best friend, the one guy she could count on, was going to hell.

    Coming from the woman I loved, truly and wholly, I was devastated and entered a state of depression. During the summer of 2006, that depression turned to alcohol when she took back her ex boyfriend of 3 years.

    Her boyfriend was a cheating, lying, adulterous, pious, bastard who doesn’t care about the 50 plus women he’s had. His lies permeate through the town, where he’s fornicated with nearly every one of my female friends at some point.

    His convictions only get worse with his reason: He’s got Post Traumatic stress due to his 2 weeks in Iraq.

    Lets just say that I’d have no problem hitting him with a baseball bat next time I see him.

    After 4 weeks of being with him, she dumped his ass one last time, because one of the girls he cheated on her with finally came forward, and told her what was up.

    Since then, she and I have grown closer, yet not enough to date. Although, every weekend seems to be out time to hang out, play pool, watch movies, and drink of the poison called vodka mixed with tang.

    Continuing on, I lost my faith completely, but I never had a label for it. Atheism was still a foriegn term to me, and I was still in the closet to most people.

    It wasn’t until recently that I just came right out and said it.

    In the last month, I’ve managed to get spat on, my car tire poked out, and had a half-assed excorcism performed on me.

    I’ve also noticed the amount of thank-God-ism’s that are prevalent in TV and movies. I’ve also got involved in politcs, and I’m under constant attack from my parents about it, being told that I, a 20-year old, don’t know sh*t about anything.

    So, there be it. Currently, I’m contending with the MN humidity, and looking for a job. Good thing I have connections…

    Holy Christ on a stick, I talk too much.

  • Pito

    Ebon,

    I am a nontheist like yourself (weak agnostic with strong atheistic inclinations) and think your site is superb. However, there is one person I think you may enjoy a good dialogue with. He is a Catholic apologist whom I find very intelligent, though admittedly not flawless in his approach to nontheism.

    Link:

    http://socrates58.blogspot.com/