i don't believe in god and only he can judge me

I was catching up on this season of True Blood tonight, and besides being completely underwhelmed by this fairy bullshit and the fact that Biyull doesn't say "Sookehhh!" enough this season, a quote from the second episode struck a chord with me.

"I'm a Christian, goddamnit." It reminded me of an epic Margaret Cho post on her blog from back in the day. You know, when Sarah Palin was a hearbeat away from possibly becoming a heartbeat away from being the President of the United States. I look back on those times fondly, and laugh and laugh. I just laugh and laugh and laugh. And then I laugh some more. Then I stop laughing and I remember the title of the post is "I'm a Christian, you Fuckers." You should stop reading this post right now and read hers. It's really amazing. But then come back here.

Fairuza Balk, scary atheist, I think.

Thing is... I'm not really a Christian and just saying that makes me feel like I owe you an explanation. I'm actually the opposite of religious. I am one of those people you might have heard about called an atheist. No, I'm not even the trendier and safer agnostic. I go for the gold. I'm one of those people who is like "suck it, Jesus!" I also burn crosses (not really so much to do with my religious views as my racial ones), make human sacrifices on religious holidays, and hang out with Fairuza Balk on the regular.

I identified as agnostic back in my college days, but I knew it was my version of most girls' college bisexuality - just a phase. A rite of passage introducing me to the world of full on lesbianism, if you will. For a long time, I was really scared to identify as an atheist. I mean, religious people can be crazy (what up, Bachmann?!). They will try to kill you for not believing in their God. People will also try to kill you for cutting in front of them or ringing their doorbell and running, so I guess that's not really fair. Point is, religious people are trying to kill me.

I'll be honest: I was scared that as soon as I denied the existence of God, God would show her ugly face and smite me and it would most likely involve a tire iron and sodomy. I have a tendency to get flat tires and I'm gay. That seems like a sick, twisted joke that a God would play. I thought maybe it would change who I was. Like I would suddenly have black hair, be prone to drawing anagrams in public spaces, and spit in children's faces. Or worst of all, it would be like when I decided to be a vegetarian.

When you say you're a vegetarian, people who eat meat often can get really uncomfortable. I know this because I was one of those people. I had plenty of friends who were veggies and I very much respected and admired their choice, but every time we ate somewhere together, it would cross my mind and a tiny little part of me would be like "fuck you." Not enough to ever start a conversation about it, or even address it. In fact, within seconds I was over it because, let's face it, the taste of bacon alone could end hundred-year wars if everyone just sat down and ate it together. I quickly understood it was just my own feelings of guilt and I was partaking in one of my favorite pastimes: projecting.

Similarly, when you say you're an atheist, you can almost see the uncomfortable feeling register on people's faces. They go into fight or flight mode: save this sinful fuck or go pray about it. Am I going to have to whip out some Bible verses and my ready-to-wear intellectual talking points in favor of religion, or will he let me go? I will always, always, always let you go. Just as with my decision not to eat meat, I have absolutely no desire to convert or recruit others. That's what my homosexuality is for.

I don't want to make people feel uncomfortable, except for when I want to make people feel uncomfortable. The worst is when I get myself into situations (often) where it's unavoidable and I can either lie or tell the truth. I try really hard to tell the truth, and I always try to be delicate about it which ultimately always ends up becoming the most awkward conversation ever:

"Well, I used to be agnostic but I don't really believe in God or religion but it's not because I think your beliefs are wrong, I just...well, I guess I do think they're wrong but they're beliefs and I have them too, and mine are just different and differences are really something, aren't they? People are so different, each one of us. We're like snowflakes and vaginas and we're all unique, no two are the same, and what I believe in isn't what you believe in, and science is really great and I think you can believe in both, I just don't, but I don't need a Bible to guide my life and make me be a good person, but I think it's great that you do, and I'm not trying to convert you but you asked and I would rather be honest because if I lie then I'll go to Hell, which is what you think, I don't believe in Hell, cause like I said, I don't believe in God so how could I, and scientifically, it's just not possible, I'm sorry this is so silly, you're my friend, let's change the subject: what's your favorite movie of all time?"

"The Ten Commandments."

I have a tendency to apologize for my beliefs and values - not because I feel bad about them - but because I am terrified of coming off as a condescending asshat. My former supervisor pointed this out to me one day when she read me an e-mail that I sent her telling her I would not be down for some last minute working on the weekend that included no less than 5 apologies. Being a social worker, we processed the e-mail and came to the conclusion that I have an intense fear of becoming the worst part of my father: patronizing and condescending... so I make up for my demands and know-it-all nature by apologizing profusely and rationalizing everything. Side note: I really miss working in an environment where your boss could psychoanalyze you and give you bullshit work to do.

I guess what I mean to say is that there is no God. Just kidding. I'm not, but you know, I kinda am at the same time. Whenever anyone asks me about my atheism, my response lately has been... ask Ricky Gervais, I don't wanna talk about it. He said it best. 

Certain things just seem to beg for an explanation or rationalization. You can't just say "I'm an atheist" and be done with it. People, whether verbally or with their crazy eyes, seem to need more information if you're outside the norm. I still haven't figured out if it's worth explaining or if I should just shut up. As amazing as Margaret and Ricky's rationales are, aren't they unnecessary? Even when people follow up with "Why are you an atheist?" is it safe to assume that they really don't want to know? Just like when people ask why I'm a vegetarian as they eat prime rib. You obviously don't want or care to know, or else you probably wouldn't be eating that. And that's genuinely cool with me. We both think, whether we say it out loud or not, that our way of being or believing is the best way. If not the best, then highly ideal, or else why would we live it? Knowing this, what good does it do to explain it? It's not like you're going to die from eating meat (actually, you might) or from being religious (actually, you might), so what do I care? And all this coming from Communication Cathy who wants you to always express your feelings for the life-affirming benefits found in the simple act of sharing!

I understand that all of this is probably a bit irrational and over the top, and all I can say is "yes, hello, have you met me?" And I know exactly where it comes from. When our family moved away from North Carolina, the matriarch of a devout Baptist family (our neighbors) wrote my mother a letter expressing her sorrow and regret for not having "saved our family from sin" including an anecdote about how she came to see the Light. Clearly, most religious people are nowhere near this obnoxious and I would venture to guess homegirl's got some other challenges going on up there, but I remember thinking "I don't need to know that, and what's worse is I don't even care to know that."

So, the last thing I want to do is be the person who gives you information that you really don't want or need to know. Unless, of course, the information is intimate details about gay sex, which we've already established as fair game and more than acceptable.