Stream of Consciousness

A dream or nightmare

There wasn’t much to it. At least not in the end. The various pills and elixirs scattered and spilled on the floor mixed in the piss and vomit. Torrent of tears from mothers with Rosary-wrapped hands held in prayer to a god that wasn’t there while the altar boys knelt to pleasure Father Jesus. The voluptuous, vivacious Virgin vixen lay on the bed, her legs spread open for the offering of saints and sinners alike while the whore superior baptized the children with menstrual blood.

The boy overdose on heroine. Blood clotted the dropper. The injection came in with strong. They televised his death as Saint Francis Assisi held his naked body against his own.

A stained-glass heart. Multicolored facets of Hell. A bit too Catholic for the religious.

Manticore & Other Horrors by Cradle of Filth is available now at Amazon.
Manticore & Other Horrors by Cradle of Filth is available at Amazon.

Of Chickens & Eggs

Until recently, it never occurred to me that believers believed that religion came first. Well, that’s worded incorrectly. What I mean is, I recently discovered that believers believe that science “copies” from religion. “One of the main concerns,” states my friend, the Lizard King, “is how we arrived at this place? Science attempts to explain the same (though in another way, but though that isn’t scientific (though it labels itself as such) but just as” fantastical” as Christianity’s creationism).”

I’m usually floored by such accusations that science is at the same level as the pseudo-sciences such as intelligent design and creationism. Now, two things bother me here. First of all, his indication that religion came up with the our curiosity of how we came into being and that science just copied the question, and I’ll address that in a moment. The thing that nags at me is that I don’t know what he’s going on about. What’s he talking about when he states that science does the answering differently though it’s not actually scientific?

How is it that the religious can strut around claiming something isn’t scientific, but a scientist can’t go around and claim something isn’t religious? I’m always met with the same reply—I’ve misinterpreted and misquoted a cut-and-dried (though archaic) scripture. And it’s always because I lack faith, or I’m going into it with a political agenda (though, even if you don’t want to admit it, so are you), I’m taking things out of context , I don’t have the religious knowledge, etc. With the exception of faith, the same can go to disprove all arguments believers use against science—they just don’t understand, they lack the knowledge, they take things out of context, they’re going into with a political and dogmatic agenda. The common misconception of science and those who chose to empirical data over fairy tales is that theories are infallible—or we think they’re infallible. Or they’ll use the word theory against it—as in, “Evolution is just a theory.” I find it strange that a creationist never makes the same argument with the theory of gravity.


Yes, the theory of evolution is just that, a theory. But it’s a pretty good theory (the best one we’ve had to explain how we came from single cell organisms) and it has an outstanding amount of evidence to support it. Creationists are certain that those who choose science believe in evolution, and that’s just not accurate. We accept the evidence for evolution. Perhaps it’s syntax that I’m using (abusing?) here, and you’re probably wondering how I can say that when I’ve said that I believed in evolution and science in the past. And that’s where we differ. You’re mind cannot fathom a person without faith/belief because you have altered science into a religion/cult institution and evolution as its doctrine. Beliefs are usually never altered and they are damning (I’ll get to that in another post) and they can lead people do to some crazy shit (like killing abortionists doctors, suicide bombing, and drinking cyanide laced Kool-Aid). Acceptance of a theory, however, can change through observation, through evidence that may debunk the theory.

Evolution isn’t fantastical; creationism is as it is driven out of fantasy. Fantastical is believing that some father in the sky created the entire universe in just six days, resting on the seventh. Fantastical is believing that the same father created animals out of thin air and man out of dirt and woman from man’s rib (that’s the take two if you want to add in the female prototype known as Lilith). Fantastical is believing in a great flood, a talking snake, a talking burning bush, a techicolor dream coat, a virgin birth, etc. (I can almost hear him already). Evolution takes time. A lot of time.

And unscientific example, we wouldn’t say we “evolve” in a day to the person we will become. No we’re usually met with, “Wow, you’ve really evolved as a person since we met.” Character development would suck if we just gave it all in the first three pages, wouldn’t it? Well, evolution wouldn’t be evolution if it took place from a grain of dirt to adult human male. It’s climbing a mountain, not shooting a grappling hook to zip up to the top. Adaption and natural selection are key for evolution to work, are they not? Nature favors what pushes a species forward and gets rid of what is wasteful. And nature allows for animals (and people) to adapt to their surroundings.

A while ago, I happened upon a documentary about these snow monkeys from Japan that were transported to southern Texas. Back in Japan, the snow monkeys dipped in the hot springs to keep warm. In Texas, that was no longer necessary. Instead, they began to sweat. Now, that may not seem like a lot to you because you’re thinking it’s hot in Texas and we all swear here. But these monkeys had never perspired before. And the naysayer will just shrug and say, so what? That doesn’t prove anything. But the monkeys encountered something in Texas they never did in Japan—snakes and scorpions. During observation, the people who kept the habitat noticed something peculiar. Whenever a threat came near, the monkeys would make a distinctive call (one for scorpions and one for snakes). The sound was recorded and the recording was played for the snow monkeys in Japan (monkeys that had never been to Texas), and not one of them stirred or prepared for trouble. The calls were new. And all the adaptations made in the Texas bunch was passed on to their offspring and will continue to be passed on.

Now if the “fantastical” idea is the big bang theory, then it’s understandable why you find it as such. Psychics contains too much math, and it usually leaves me befuddled, too.

Copying Accusation

Returning to the matter at hand, though. The important part of this post (and probably the shortest) is the assumption that religion somehow is responsible for creating the question, “How did we get here?”

The question existed before science and before religion. It’s not a part of them, it’s what caused them. And it is sheer arrogance to lay claim on the question when science and religion are merely institutions that seek the answer—one through empirical data and observations, and the other through myth and legend. Let’s face it, when humanity became self-aware enough to ponder the question, we weren’t the brightest bunch. One day we did a dance and the next it rained. We then accepted the dance as the causation of the rain—the old post hoc, ergo propter hoc fallacy. And from that belief, we began to form religions and those religions began to create our mythical origins. Then someone decided to figure out how the world really works. Sure, the myths lingered but it didn’t take long before theories disproved that the dance had anything to do with the rain.

So I reject your notion that science “copies” religion because neither hold claim to the rights to the question. Because this isn’t a chicken-or-the-egg type of question. Religion didn’t event the question, nor did science. Instead, the question birthed both institutions. For better or for worse.

Side note for anyone who isn’t the Lizard King: I am not a science major. I majored in English. Most of my knowledge on science and evolution stem from my reading of books and articles online. This is not to disprove my argument, but to explain if I should have used the wrong term or jacked up an example (and I tried hard as hell not to use any examples that may have soared above my head—see my physics joke).


So, I’m an Atheist Now. How Are You Doing?

I swapped my Agnostic religious status to Atheist last night on Facebook—because, as you know, nothing is official until it’s Facebook official. It’s something that I should’ve done months, if not years, ago. I began to find it impossible that something can exist outside of the physical. That there’s some designer in the sky who expects our obedience. I don’t believe in a god. And I haven’t for a very long time, before I even heard the name Richard Dawkins. And I want to make this clear, my disbelief isn’t based on The God Delusion (which I just decided to read) or The Blind Watchmaker (which I’ve never read) as my former creative writing professor turned friend seems to believe (I’ve decided to call him the Lizard King, though I caution  him about calling himself such as the conspiracy nuts will have a field day believing that he’s the head of their shadow government). My Agnosticism/Atheism/Doubtism sprouted before I ever picked up a philosophy book, before I fell in love with Christopher Hitchens’ essays, back when “God is dead” was a song lyric to a Nine Inch Nails song and not a Friedrich Nietzsche line, and even before I heard that song.

Atheist symbol
Atheist symbol (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My seed of doubt—the seed of reason and desire to further my knowledge in truth and not fantasy—was planted by a CCD (bible school) teacher who gave me the bad news that I’d be burning in hell for killing insects that did me wrong—apparently, Catholic Sunday school teachers are practicing Buddhists with a great sense of guilt. Because it was at that moment when I realized that if Hell were real and I was surely going there, it’d be by my hand, my choice, not hers.

I was a blasphemous youth who grew into a blasphemous adult who learned that blasphemy is a victimless crime. However, for the longest time, I held on to the belief—because the half-doubt I carried was a belief—that humans couldn’t know for a fact if there was or wasn’t a higher power as there wasn’t enough evidence on either side. But that was my arrogance getting the better of me. I mistook my inability to learn, in my short life (as I do not believe in an afterlife), the truth as the great human flaw.

So here I am. An Atheist.

Before signing off and spell checking, I want to mention that the original post that was “slated” to go here was a well-thought out piece about beauty. I hope to get it out to you tomorrow.


Writing & Writers

What if I told you my life is a mess


“She’s just two personas struggling for dominance in one body.”*

I couldn’t quote from the Bible if I wanted to. It’s just not that important to me. Life without religion is the same with it. Pointless with the exception for the purpose you make for yourself. And without what I tried to build, what purpose have I left?

She knew the quotes by heart, but never followed a single syllable of them. Born in Macabre, she dressed for Death’s gathering. Eyes like glitter and a heart of ice, the born again will rejoice in her spoken tones while decipher her body language with their erections.

*Quote from The Girl in the Steel Corset by Kady Cross



she returned to find that she could love no one

“I’ll be the demon you adore.” Skold

I’m not an easy person to love. Not one to experience things like I’m expected to. I’ve never cried with a movie. Never shed one tear for The Giving Tree. Like a popular Barenaked Ladies song. I’ve cried at funerals. I’ve grown attached to people, or maybe just the idea of them. I don’t have a soul, apparently.


You treat them as if they’re voluntary. Well, aren’t they?

The discussion is probably not one we should have in the work place, but we have it anyway. I don’t believe in god because I don’t have enough evidence. I don’t discredit  his existence for the same reason. I’m coward for this. I see nothing cowardly about it. I just don’t care. If there was a god up in the sky, he wants nothing to do with us anymore. If he did, he’d have the power to intervene. Instead we’re left waiting until we destroy ourselves until he does something. Dr. Manhattan. He has no stake in our existence. Nothing to lose and nothing to gain. No, if there was a god, he’s either dead, dying, or not a god at all. Because nothing as benevolent as he could let his children persecute each other. Nothing that good could let so much evil spill over and flood us.

If there is a god, I imagine him a little more like me. Detached. Divorced from everything. We could stand idly by or help, and our emotions would not change.

No, if there were a god, the GOP would’ve fallen under a plague. Locust would fly out their mouths everything they opened it. The sign of the beast would mark their foreheads. Politicians would fall under. Disease would run rampant across the United States. The empire that has gotten too big for its own good, without any merit.

We bomb nations and state we’re protecting our freedoms. Freedoms no one has challenged. We write the history books and state that we won wars. That the bad guys were beaten. When the bad guys just wanted to protect their homes. Or an evil steps up and attacks us, and rather than attacking back, we punch the little brother.


I’m annoyed when people bless me. When they accredit their god for something I worked on myself. God didn’t give me this gift with words. He wasn’t there when I sat in corners reading book after book. He wasn’t there through the bad poetry. Through the mindless prose without agenda. He sure as hell wasn’t there when I was shoved around. Pushed down. Shut out. Beaten up. Knocked about.

I’m the type of person who thinks people are free to believe what they want to. I don’t mind a “god bless you,” or a “pray for you” every now and then. It’s in your nature. It’s the only way you know how to be polite, but when it begins to feel like tiny personal attacks, I grow weary. I grow annoyed.

There is no logic behind god. And there is nothing heroic about it, either. I see nothing more cowardly than hiding behind something like fate and destiny. Things happen because you make them happen, not because some higher power motioned you toward it.


A shard of glass. An empty bed. Ballet dancer missing a leg. Cue Skeeter Davis. Fade to black.

….don’t they know it’s the end of the world? It ended when I lost your love…

Writing & Writers

And the god looked upon its people and spoke

Mark Ryden

With a voice lacking compassion. Benevolence is overrated. The bombers flew over the holy land. Just a child, looking up at the oblivion, damnation profession. Confessional, the pews are empty as her porcelain stained tears spilled. Rosary. Jesus Mary Child. Grown up, her words echo the silence.

Forty five minutes and seventy-nine months. People think of him like the hatter, though he’s nothing more than the white rabbit – steering into the flow with eyes sewn shut to cancel out the light. Burning red, fading hopes. Vacant. Disinfected. The father’s abortion spilled. Seed stained. Utter the words and the prayers. Count the beads upon his fingers. Each one, a sexual thrill rises through him.

Father forgive me. I’ve not sin enough. I’m the ballast, charged with solemnity. Take in the cannibalistic flesh, drink of the blood. Praise them. Happy are those who bash the little ones upon the stones.

Lips of jasmine. The light has faded. The star burning out. Expanding. Withstanding. Commanding. Stellar view. She knows that suicide is just a symptom of feeling nothing worthwhile. The funeral ballerina twirling to the waves of the dirge.

Suicide is but a symptom of its dying grace. Left shattered upon the altar of our greed.