Lot's O' Atheism

I'm an atheist, and over the years I've done lots of bits about this in my stand up. I've compiled my favorites here. This is a long one, you may want to go get some popcorn. I do still use some of this so please, any feedback, likes or dislikes is most appreciated. And if you like this kind of rambling check out my homophobia rant.

Atheist Ha-Has.

After the September 11th attacks I got an e-mail. There was a graphic of an eagle shedding a tear, with the twin towers in smoldering ruins behind it.

I was amazed to see written across the bottom of the graphic in gold script, “Now will you allow prayer in our schools?” I look at this e-mail and I think for one horrible moment of forwarding the message to my neighbor with the text changed to “Now will you get rid of the god damn car alarm?!” I admired the tactic.

I though about it more and it occurred to me, the people who do these kinds of attack could have used LESS prayer in their schools.

I never bomb anyone. I’m an atheist, and we don’t go on suicide missions, because we are scared shitless of dying, as one should be.

I do believe that atheists can get along with religious folks. What’s a little suppression of science, destruction of art, genocide and pedophilia between friends? I’m gonna do the Christian thing and forgive you.

When I call my self an atheist, my agnostic friends tell me to quit being so dogmatic. That’s bullshit. I aint knocking on anybody’s door. But youknow, maybe I should.

Knock knock. Good morning, sorry to interrupt you as you get ready for church, but what if I told you, ya didn’t have to go to church?
That’s right good sir, I’m with the atheists. Atheists, you see, never have to go to church!
That’s right, Never!
There is no sin. You can do shit. That’s our motto. Atheists, we get to do shit. And we don’t have to confess it to a priest or feel guilty about it! We’re allowed to ENJOY IT!
Plus, we don’t have to tithe, sing or commit suicide attacks.
There must be a catch you say. Well, in addition to no guilt and no hell, there’s also no heaven. If we’re correct, when we die, that’s it, we no longer exist. If we’re wrong we burn forever and ever in a lake of fire for being atheists. It’s pretty much a lose/lose situation. Plus while still here on earth, you’ll be seen as a pariah, as dangerous, as lower than the town drunk, who at least prays to Jesus for forgiveness as he throws up on your shoes. And while you are allowed to sleep with whoever you please you’ll be amazed how many woman will refuse to have sex with a man that insists on not apologizing for it in the morning. But that’s about it.
Well, that and the fact that acknowledging that you are simply a finite, temporary spot on the earth, that like trillions of others will disappear and eventually be forgotten may cause a horrid, aching feeling of emptiness at the very core of your soul that no level of intellectualizing can fill.

But hey, you can stay home on Sundays watching the spice channel and spilling the precious seeds of life to your heart content. That’s atheism.

Sound good? Great, care to seal the deal with some hard-core porn, illicit drugs and illegal fireworks?

I think the main thing people got against atheists is that we threaten Christmas. I mean sure, people love Jesus and all, but Santa gives you stuff. Don’t mess with the fat guy.

You can relax, I celebrate Christmas. I had a choice. I could skip Christmas and feel good about myself knowing that I was no hypocrite, or I could get presents. I choose presents. Fine, I’m a hypocrite. I’m a hypocrite with toys.

When I first “came out” to my family as an atheist they asked me about Christmas. I told them I would give Christmas one last chance to win me over to Christianity. I figured this might inspire a little extra shopping on my behalf. That year, I got 17 Bibles under the tree, and one little statue of two naked children with teardrop shaped eyes standing on a base that read God Loves You. I decided right then, that even if Christianity is one day proven scientifically beyond a shadow of a doubt to be true, I’m not having it, because I REFUSE to reward that kind of behavior with positive reinforcement.

God is marketed in all kinds of ways. My favorites are the religions that promise lots of virgins in the after life. What the hell do I want with all them virgins. I’ve had one sexual experience with a virgin. The virgin was me, and I was lousy. If a virgin makes advances on me I inform them that this in not an entry level position. Come back when you have some experience. If you want me dropping coin in your collection plate offer me up a heaven full of sluts, and no STDs.

The biggest question is, if god is real, would I even like the guy? I mean, they say he made us in his image and truth be told I’m not too fond of most of us.

And his music is terrible. Other than gospel he hasn’t inspired any decent music in a century or more. Stryper? Amy Grant? Creed? Sorry, the devil has got my record-buying dollar firmly locked up.

One thing that sucks about being an atheist is this. What do I say when you sneeze? Ah-Choo! “Hey, there’s no god so you probably want to go wash your hands.”

And why do the god folks wash their hands after they sneeze. God just blessed you. You’re cool. Don’t wash off the blessing.

The god people tell me all the time how God healed them and made them well. I fight the urge to ask why he made ‘em all messed up to begin with.

If god fixed you up so nice, why you paying the doctor? God’s gonna be pissed, because we all know God likes his money. And that’s another thing. God’s great, God’s omnipotent, God’s got it all together, so why’s the guy always so strapped for cash. I mean I have broke friends, but after a while I just have to say no, I can’t lend ‘em five bucks. If God want to rake up the leaves or do the dishes or something maybe I can spare enough for a couple of burritos or something.

For atheists there’s but one commandment. “Thou shalt not believe in big invisible guys that some how care about each and every one or our relatively insignificant lifes.” How can god care about me. I don’t care about ants. There’s too many of ‘em. And from where I’m sitting they all look alike. So I burn them with a magnifying glass.

Would an atheist preacher visit the cancer kids?

How ya doin’ son? Hey listen all that business about going to heaven and seeing God and mommy and daddy joining you there and not smelling like beer all time.
You know that aint gonna happen right? You’re just some carbon, just a bunch of water hanging out in one place for awhile. So, this is it. No, no, don’t cry, It’s okay. Just think, for the next couple hours you can do whatever you want. Yeah, yeah I can get some girls up here. Sure. Oh man, strippers will do anything for a cancer kid. Take the hat off, the bald heads gonna get you an extra lap dance for sure.”

God has a weird sense of humor. For thousands of years he makes appearance in the form of talking, burning bushes, and cool stuff like that, stuff you couldn’t mistake for anything other than God. I mean, you don’t walk up on a talking, burning bush and say, “Frank! Is that you? Oh God, sorry, didn’t recognize ya there buddy.” So he talks to us for all that time and then, all of a sudden…nothing. He doesn’t write. He doesn’t call. He should talk to us now. We could book him on Conan O’Brien; he’d have the biggest audience ever. And he wouldn’t have to worry about making two fish and a loaf of bread feed ‘em either, just get Jiffy Pop to send out some free samples. They’d do it.

Imagine the ratings if this guy would do the super bowl half-time show or host Saturday Night Live. (While he’s at it he could make them funny again. That’d be way more impressive than his kid’s water into wine trick.) He wouldn’t have to do much. Walk on some water, and raise a few dead so we know it’s him, and then tell us who’s right. The Muslims, the Christians, The Jackson 5. Just let us know once and for all. I mean really, you can’t blame us for mixin’ up his (or hers or it’s) story. It’s been 2000 years since we heard from the guy or girl or ominous entity). I watched the Star Wars Trilogy again, earlier this year and me and my friends are still debating what IT meant, ya know. Never mind a book that old in a language nobody even speaks anymore.

Until God shows up I propose this; Let’s go on strike. Let’s act on our own best interests. On the human race’s best interests until he decides to speak up. When he wants to tell us what to do, let him get a hold of us and tell us what to do. And make it accessible. NO Pay per view crap. I’ll pay for Pro Wrestling, but that’s where I draw the line.