You know, it strikes me that only a man from England could reduce the "plot" of a horror movie to: "Oh look, something surprising happens."

There is a giant pile of suck. Its name is: Learn to drive in the goddamn snow, would you? It's Colorado, it snows all the fucking time. Jesus Jumping Christ on a pogo stick. And where are the fucking snow plows? My fucking tax dollars at work.

Last night, this suck descended from wherever it had been hiding and began gnawing on my head. It's still there. Everyone's been too polite to say, "Dude, you have a giant pile of suck gnawing on your head," but I can feel it. It probably explains my headache. Either that, or the midget with the jackhammer has set up shop on the left side of my brain again.

Because of the pile of suck, (otherwise known as OMGWTFBBQSNOW, or snow for short) it took an hour and a half for me to get home last night after the physics test. Which meant that I didn't get to my house or eat dinner until after 2330. This may do something to explain my current bitter outlook on, well, everything. Just because the universe thinks it's so goddamn funny, during that unpleasant bus ride, I also had a nice, elderly gentleman witnessing to me, from Table Mesa to Broomfield. He was sweet, polite, and didn't pause for breath the entire time.

Despite the fact that I'm so exhausted I can't see straight, I couldn't get back to sleep this morning after dropping Mike off. So I ended up at the park-n-ride half an hour early. Which would have been great, and gotten me to school on time, if any bus going to Boulder had actually shown up in those thirty minutes. (Total missing buses: 4) I ended up catching the S, which took over an hour to get up to Boulder, and dropped me off at the wrong end of campus so I had to slog through the evil snow. Which the helpful wind kept blowing into my ears. Ugh. I made it for the last ten minutes of physics.

On the plus side, there was a decided lack of enthusiastic Christian witnessing on this trip, so it wasn't all bad.

The trip down to Denver was equally fun. Waited at the stop. B bus shows up, and the driver tells us that there's another bus right behind him. We all assume that it must be the BX, since that's how it normally works. Instead, another B pulled up. The driver leaned out the door and said, "Come with me if you want to live."

Well, no, actually, he said, "Come with me if you want to get to Denver." But close enough.

One the bus, I sensed a definite air of bitterness emanating from the driver's seat. During the hour and ten minute trip, the driver informed us passengers via the speakers:
- His bus was currently an hour and a half behind schedule.
- The BX had, in fact, disappeared as far as anyone could tell. While he offered no theories regarding its disappearence, I'm putting my money on aliens. Or maybe a freak sink hole.
- By the way, look at those nice, (UN)plowed roads.
- He (the driver) was from Wisconsin, and they certainly wouldn't put up with these kind of road conditions there.
- And where are the goddamn snow plows, anyway?

I tried to play Gameboy. Then I downgraded to trying to read. Then I realized that the slow, bumping, slip-sliding bus was, in fact, making me motion sick. So I ended up doing nothing except contemplating the possibility of throwing up on a bus again, and wondering if this time I could avoid hitting my own pants.

That's my day so far. I want to go home and sleep. Instead, I will go home and do homework.

Note to drivers:

Driving in the snow is NOT that hard. Get a grip.

Oh yeah... and BRUSH THE FUCKING SNOW OFF YOUR CAR. Do you realize how retarded it looks, to see a car covered with six inches of snow that has had one single square of the windshield directly in front of the driver cleared? And do I even need to go into how utterly unsafe that is? No wonder cars are careening all over the goddamn highways like a bunch of miniature poodles on methamphetamine drips.

No love,

Katsu

* * *

Regarding the physics problem from yesterday, wouldn't it be far more entertaining if the 6 kg ball were dressed in drag, rather than merely effected by it? I'm pretty sure that would involve some work, too.

Krista, I tried to answer your question. I'm sorry that I'm posting it out here like this, but it got fantastically long. I've been avoiding this explanation for a long time, and maybe I shouldn't have. I feel tired and stuffy and generally crappy because I pretty much cried the whole way through this, but maybe I'll feel better now that I've let it all out.

You made me realize that I owe you and everyone else that I love and have been hurting with my bitter, atheist rantings an explanation. And I'm sorry that it took so long for me to come out and say all of this. I just didn't have the courage before. Maybe it'll make sense, because it's hard for me to make sense of, at times.

I'm sorry, if I've hurt you. Any of you. Please remember that I love you.

* * *

The way I feel is very, very complicated. On my good days, it's all very love and flowers and getting along with everyone and respecting beliefs. I do my best to respect your right to believe as you do, but I'm not going to lie to you. I don't understand it, I don't think it makes sense, and it's half the reason I spend so much time bothering you and Michelle with questions about Mormon this and that, because I really would like to understand. But frankly, I don't think I ever will because it's a situation where you believe in something that I can see no evidence for, and it leaves me profoundly puzzled. I don't believe that there is anything above question and reproach, and I'm not going to lie, because I don't get the whole religion thing, and to someone outside the religion, it does look really silly.

On my bad days, I think it's quite obvious that I am filled with a lot of bitterness and hatred toward religion in general.

Hatred is often bred by fear, and in my case, that's definitely true. I'm terrified where this country is going, when there's a large contigent of people within it that are actively praying for the end of the world, and doing everything within their thus far limited power to help it along. Because I like being alive, I like the relative peace we enjoy, and it destroys me within that there are people in my own country and in the world in general that have so little regard for the life and happiness of others that they would destroy it on what is, as far as I can tell, the imagined whim of a non-existent sky god. It fills me with rage and frustration and sorrow to the point that I'm nearly crying to write this, that there are people who believe that they have the right to destroy my life, my world, and everything I love. It terrifies me that there are people who believe they will be rewarded for this sort of behavior with unending bliss, and believe in their hearts that I deserve an eternity of unending suffering because no matter how good of a person I am, I did not choose to bow to their master.

It horrifies me that there are people who pray for a world-ending war to occur in the middle east. That there are people that cheerfully say that Hurricane Katrina, the Asian tsunami, or any of a thousand other natural disasters are the will of a wrathful god who happily punishes the blameless for the sins of others.

It horrifies me that there are people that would call me a whore and even fouler names because I live with the man I love, or even because I dare to go outside with my face and hair uncovered. That some of these people would consider it justifiable, and my fault if they were to beat me, rape me, or even kill me.

It horrifies me that there are a myriad of people - many of them holding political office - that believe that laws should satisfy the dictates of their religious beliefs, even and especially when these laws will effect those that do not share them.

It horrifies me that there are people that firmly believe that I, as an atheist, cannot be an ethical, good human being because I do not bow to their god. That there are religious people who have said, on public record, that the only reason they are not out there raping and killing is because all morals flow from god. At it makes me very, very angry that I have been told, on more than one occasion, that if I am a good person, I'm not really an atheist. That I must just be pretending, that I must believe in god deep down inside and am not willing to admit it.

And I am scared, frankly, many days I am terrified that there are people out there so certain that they are righteous that the very concept of doubt has never entered their mind. People that set aside all sense of reason to obey the dictates of a book of dubious authorship from two thousand or more years ago. I am terrified that all the beauty of rationality and a million arguments that we can prove beyond a shadow of a doubt in the natural world can find no chink in the armor of unreasoning faith.

And it frustrates me. I cannot begin to describe the sick frustration that fills me whenever I encounter someone that cannot conceive of a world where they might be wrong.

To someone that is not religious, frankly, the posturing of all the religions - and by this, I mean all religions that claim to have the answer to the exclusion of all the others - is ludicrous, bitterly ludicrous. I can't understand how, say, a Baptist and a Muslim could both firmly believe the other is going to burn in eternal perdition and not, for a second, wonder how the other can be just as certain of the same.

Whatever I once said I thought was the greatest strength of humankind, I've long since changed my mind. Now, I think that the greatest strength we can have is the ability to admit that we are wrong, or that we don't know. The greatest strength we have is the ability to change our minds and our positions and think of new things.

So to me, the absolute faith that some people have is also a sad thing, because it means they have turned away from the wonders of our ever-changing understanding of the universe in favor of the unchanging vision of one small set of ancient people.

I didn't always feel this way. I wasn't always afraid. But then 9/11 happened. Then the Intelligent Design movement started its attacks on science education. Then scientists in NASA were gagged by the presidential administration. Then the administration started its push on abstinence only education. Then South Dakota set the sweeping abortion ban. Then the vitriol about gay marriage began to surface. Then I started paying attention to some of the ugly realities of politics, like they way anyone who runs for the office of President suddenly discovers religion in a very loud, public way. Then a million other things that I had never thought about set in, and a man carrying an ugly sign looked me in the eye and informed me that I deserved eternal suffering in Hell. That I deserved it.

I don't hate religion, not really. And on my good days, when I am not being reminded of all of this, I hope that the religions in the world can coexist, that there can be a place for everyone and that some day we can all agree on what I once thought were universal concepts - love is good, do no harm.

But it's hard, Krista. It's really, really hard. All of my misanthropic rantings aside, I love people. I don't want to see people suffer and die. I want there to be peace. I want everyone to be able to experience love, and joy, and happiness.

And to know and be reminded that there are people that believe that someone who has never hurt a soul in their life deserves suffering in this world and the next hurts me. It hurts me so badly that I can't breathe. I don't want to believe that people can be so hateful and unyielding and cruel in the name of their beliefs, but it has been proven again, and again, and AGAIN and some days I just can't take it.

I'm not perfect. I try to love everyone, and I can't.

I don't think there is a certainty to be had in this world, let alone a certainty like Dawkins or any other militant atheist holds, that if religion were to disappear everything would suddenly be right and good. I don't think it would work that way at all.

But some days... some days...

Some days I read about how god hates fags, or how a sixteen-year-old in Iran was hung to death as an adulteress because she was raped, and I just can't handle it any more. If I don't scream and yell and carry on, I won't ever be able to stop crying. And I'm a lot better at being angry than I am with tears. So I scream, and yell, and say horrible things because it's the only way I can handle all of these things that will never, in a million years make sense in my mind.

Because for all that there are people that say that isn't what a religion is about, these horrible acts of cruelty, it is what religion is about for those people. It is their permission and righteousness for what they do. And I fear that those that emphasize the love within a religion are the minority, vocal, but a minority nonetheless, surrounded by a mob that worships the same god but is howling for blood, not peace. And then I can't help but wonder if maybe the world would be better off with no religion, because at least that would remove the smug, holy righteousness with which these horrors are perpetrated.

Those days are when I cheer Dawkins on. I don't agree with him wholeheartedly, and I never will, for many reasons. But when it feels like the entire world is telling me to shut up, to die, to suffer because I cannot bring myself to believe in their cruel version of divinity, it feels really good to hear someone give a little of it back. It feels really damn good to know that I am not entirely voiceless and unrepresented in the face of such contempt.

Sam Harris, Michael Shermer, Richard Dawkins, Penn & Teller.

I have cheered for all of these people because they have said the things that I have been dying to say, and they have said them loudly, and maybe someone has listened. And frankly, it gives me hope and strength that these men can withstand the force of scorn and even threats of physical violence and say that it is okay to not be religious, it is okay to say you don't believe in someone's god, it's okay to ask questions, and that I am not alone in all of this.

Because there are some days I feel very alone. As long as I can remember, I tried to find some religion that fit, and every one I looked at could not stand up to the questions I asked it. And I desperately wanted one to. Almost every friend I've had until recently has belonged to some sort of religion. And I'm human enough to desperately want to belong to something, too. When I realized that the only spiritual thing I could believe in was the fact that I don't know, I felt very small, and alone, and scared.

And when you add that to the knowledge that a lot of people think I should suffer because I took the hardest step in my life and admitted that I don't know... I felt so alone. And a lot of times, I still feel like I'm back in grade school, surrounded by a bunch of kids that just want to knock me down and be cruel to me because I'm different.

So there have been a lot of times, and I'm not proud of them, that I've lashed out. And times, now, when I've cheered for someone that has lashed out on my behalf. Maybe they're right. Maybe they're wrong. But it feels good to be defended by someone, even if what they have said is just as cruel. And I know it's wrong, that hate only begets hate, that cruelty begets cruelty, but sometimes I just can't help it. Because sometimes, I look at all the love that so many of us have put into the world, and there is still so much hatred out there in a rising tide that no amount of love can stop.

I have a lot of friends that are religious. And I wouldn't have it any other way. I don't want everyone to believe the same things that I do. And maybe that's another level of my frustration. If I, as an atheist, can be friends with catholics and baptists and mormons and buddhists and christian scientists and everyone else, and we can all love and respect each other...

Why can't everyone else? Sometimes it feels like we're all just the little eye in a hurricane.

And now I have cried, and I don't have any better answers. I'm just a person, and I'm flawed, and I'm tired of being afraid.

So, this thing happened at Anime Fest.

At the award ceremony, after Michelle had finished punishing us all for winning by having us read our stories out loud, this dude made a fool of himself. Well, he'd been making a fool of himself the whole time, to be more accurate, since in spite of his forty-ish appearence, he squirmed for the two hours leading up to this like an unruly two-year-old. So anyway, at the end of the award ceremony, he raised his hand and said, if memory serves, "I have a question. I heard that some of the winners were also judges."

...which isn't actually a question. It's what I'd call an unfounded statement. I figure "I heard" is in the same vein as going to an adult store and telling them that, no really, the vibrating Baby Jesus butt plug is for your "friend."

Michelle, of course, denied this silly claim. Because it was silly. No contest that's worth its salt would allow such a breach of ethics. I certainly can't imagine the staff at Anime Fest standing for it. So that was that, I thought.

Oh yeah, and earlier, before the awards, he'd apparently informed everyone willing to listen that the winners this year were really boring. Which leads me to the conclusion that this guy had a) entered a story, b) thought it should have won and c) thought that justified juvenile "sore loser" behavior.

I dismissed it, because that's what you do with people like that. Don't think about it again, because it's not worth your time.

Today, it got way better, though. This is hilarious.

I would guess this is the same person - I will admit that I don't know for 100% certain. So we'll say I'm at 99.99%. Anyway, he's apparently written an MST3K of Stealing the Tree. I think this is really amusing. Mostly because, if you go line by line on almost any story, you can do this. It's not hard. And for the most part, the MST itself could be classified as "trying too hard."

But anyway, in the text of the MST, as well as on the page linking to it, it is stated that the only reason this story won was because I was a judge for Anime Fest.

Even better, this same person has started an online petition to have my award stripped away, because, again, I only won because I'm a judge.

Well, let me tell you, this has come of something of a shock. I certainly don't remembering being on the judge's panel of Anime Fest in 2005 or, in fact, any year. In fact, the only contests I've ever served as a judge for are Nanashi, the NDK contest the couple of years we had it, and a few years of the Yaoi Con contest.

Ladies and gentlemen, I can only conclude, then, that I was abducted by aliens. Yes, that's right, aliens from the planet Xenon abducted me, forced me to judge the contest at raygun point (and choose my own story to win!) and then erased all memories of this. This explains, of course, why I woke up in the middle of a cornfield in Iowa with a funny taste in my mouth and no recollection of how I'd gotten there.

Since I am the soul of cooperation, I signed the petition and expressed my grave concerns about my alien abduction. Plus I felt sorry for the poor guy since there were only three signaitures, one of which is presumably his. So now he's got four. Yeah, man, fight the power!

But all joking aside, I'm sad to say that this pathetic example of humanity is probably nothing but a sore loser throwing a temper tantrum because his ego won't let him admit that maybe, just maybe, he's not the best thing to hit fanfiction since Laurie R. King decided that Sherlock Holmes totally needed a wife. (And I bless you for it every day, Mrs. King!) I'm just a little annoyed that he's expressing his ire with lies and slanderous accusations, rather than simply throwing himself on the ground and kicking his feet while shrieking at the top of his lungs, which is really the more mature way to go of the two options.

Of course, maybe I really did get abducted by aliens. Bring it, dude. Step forward with your sources and evidence. Show the world that I'm a liar for calling you a sad little white head on the anus of the universe.

( I wrote him an e-mail. Because I like to be open about these things. )

And my Xenon overlords, feel free to sign his petition to support my abduction experience. I live but to serve.