Archive for August, 2009

The Convenience of Political Correctness

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , on August 27, 2009 by RJ Evans

One of the biggest questions of modern life in the age of tolerance is “What is tolerable and what is not?”  Some folks would have us believe that everything we say is subject to political and social correctness, an obscure standard which no one can absolutely define. This obscurity lends itself well to convenience, to silencing dissent, knowledgeable opinion, and civil discourse in favor of a false homogeneity where fear of offending becomes more important than facts and evidence.  It has been suggested by many on the left and the right that we show respect for religious beliefs, that they should somehow be excluded from criticism, civil discourse, and humor.  Somehow, some way, the idea of exclusion of evidence, fact, truth, became convenient, desirable, required.  When religion is criticized, when evidence, fact and truth are shown, the religious individual uses this as an excuse to cry personal persecution.

Since when is not being offended a right?  What magically excludes religion, and religious individuals from being reproached in civil discourse?  What right do they have that excludes them from challenges based on evidence, fact and truth?  Where do they get the crazy idea that they should be immune to humor, or even name calling?  More importantly, why can they insult my sensibilities and demand that I “be quiet” in disagreement?  These are just some of the questions I ponder each and every day.  What’s more, there are  a few people who don’t believe in a skydaddy that spout this same rhetoric as a matter of course, insisting that I back off on my defense in favor of a more politically correct and tame approach.  Why? The old saying “Never discuss religion or politics at the dinner table” shows clearly in this dilemma.  Religion has somehow become the end all, be all poster child for Political Correctness, all the while excluding itself from the equation.  It thrives on a persecution complex through exclusivity, denying anyone who stands firm, against its political and social blitzkrieg over Constitutional rights, THEIR right to challenge.  When they are challenged, beware those who speak from a position of facts and evidence!  You are considered politically incorrect and you need to “be quiet”!  Political Correctness is a strange phrase for religion, don’t you think?  But, then, the two are inseparable nowadays.

The rules of this game are simple.  I have a right to not believe, as long as I keep it to myself.  As it should be. BUT the religious continue to rain a torrent of propaganda puke on my rights, and all those who don’t subscribe to fictional characters of ancient novels.  They have the right to disparage me in any way they choose, calling me immoral, unethical, hateful, evil, and a whole host of other terms.  They can condemn me to hell, deny me my Constitutional mandates, and try very hard to isolate me from the processes of a Democratic Republic.  As far as they are concerned, I’m a non-citizen whom THEY barely tolerate, and do so grudgingly, until they can make it legal to do otherwise.  In the meantime, I am to remain silent.  There are those who lack belief, who insist my methods are too severe, that my language is inappropriate and insulting.  In my opinion they have fallen into a trap set by religion that encourages silence and capitulation.  The religious say they WANT civil dialogue out one side of their mouth, while out the other side, they show and speak  intolerance.  What better way to fool the masses than to claim love, acceptance, and tolerance, all the while praying for their opponents salvation and/or destruction?

I refuse to accept any form of political correctness.  Opinion is a right, and expressing it is paramount to freedom.  Moreover, the very idea of censoring myself out of fear of offending someone is counter to my understanding of liberty.  While I might not agree with those who, in my opinion, hold outrageous opinions, I most certainly won’t deny them their right to express it however they choose.  I will challenge them, point by point, and with evidence, fact and truth to back up my opposition.  However,  what I DO stand firm against are actionable words that threaten violence, denial of liberty, and freedom for all.

Political Correctness, in my estimation, is a threat to free speech.  It is a creation of those who cannot stand to be challenged, while at the same time it becomes a smoke screen from which they can mount an attack with impunity.  As long as the religious stack the deck in their favor, as long as the masses buy into the fallacy of religious tolerance from those who do not tolerate, I refuse to yield one iota from my method of defense.  It’s the idea that human beings should not  be prisoners, subject to mythological memes, supposition and dogma, that drives me.  To borrow a phrase from the movie V for Vendetta , “Beneath this mask there is more than flesh. Beneath this mask there is an idea, Mr. Creedy, and ideas are bulletproof”

Product Endorsement?

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on August 27, 2009 by RJ Evans

I love good comedy.  Especially when it’s based in real life.  With this in mind, share a laugh with me, won’t you?

(Thanks to The Super Jesus for turning me onto this)

About Open-Mindedness

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , on August 26, 2009 by David 2

And another tactic gets put in its place…

Oh, and by the way, please feel free to take part in the discussion in Current where I found this video.

Texting “Death”

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on August 26, 2009 by RJ Evans

I talk a great deal about personal responsibility and ignorance on this blog.  Here’s a prime example of what can happen when folks don’t get the message.  It’s a message that transcends just religion.  Watch and learn.  Don’t text message and drive.

American Heathen® September 4th

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , on August 26, 2009 by RJ Evans

Well,  I’m back!  And this time with a whole new show!  American Heathen® has been revamped and improved!  Gone are the insane ramblings, antics and overt sexual innuendo.  That’s not to say that we’re not going to have a whole hell of a lot of fun!  Indeed, the show will be a blast, AND we will be taking on the hottest topics head on.  The new show is geared to discussion, debate, and hard core, no holds barred facts and evidence that support the secular Constitution of the United States.  My co-host David2 and I will also address the dangers of theocratic designs, political attacks on personal freedoms, and the social implications of ignorance and complacency. David and I will be taking your calls, and you can join the discussion via the American Heathen® chat room.

This is hardcore talk radio at its best!  And, if you want to disagree, then let us know.  But, be prepared to defend your position!  Because, we’re not shy and we most certainly won’t back down from bullshit!  WARNING:  If you want to debate the existence of a skydaddy…you’re shit out of luck.  There is no debate.

Be sure to tune in LIVE, Friday, September 4th @ 8pm ET, 7pm CT.  Visit ShockNetRadio.com and click on the “Click To Tune-In” link.  When you do, you will be taken to a page with a built-in Windows Media player that will connect automatically to the show.  You can also find us listed under the “Classic Rock” category on iTunes.

The Breaking Point…Part 5

Posted in Uncategorized on August 18, 2009 by RJ Evans

-Nothing-

“I’ve got a rhythm!”  Huh?  Wha…what… Pain.  Excruciating pain.  Every inch of my body hurt.  I couldn’t open my eyes at all.  I tried, but they refused to cooperate.  In fact, anything I tried to move just wouldn’t move. I was aware, but I wasn’t.  I could hear voices talking in urgent tones, but I couldn’t make out but a few words.  I could hear shuffling feet, plastic sounds, and the incessant “beep beep…beep beep…” was back.  For the first time since I had jumped off the carnival ride, I felt fear.  Then the numbness returned.  Oh shit!  I don’t want to…
…live.

I survived.   Thirty years ago this was my breaking point. A big one out of many.  It is a true story.  But, what makes the story pertinent to this blog?  I was a believer back then.  In those days I prayed constantly for answers to problems of a very troubled and violent youth.  And the more and harder I prayed, the worse those problems got.  Why?  Because the answers to my problems weren’t going to be found in a myth.  The answers were going to be found within me. But, by waiting around for answers, I was risking my future, my life.

When you rely on fantasy and absolve yourself of responsibility, you set the stage for ignorance and self-destruction.  My life’s answers came as I questioned myself and rose to the challenge of personal responsibility.  A myth didn’t save my life back then.  Skilled physicians, nurses, and medics did.  In fact, these professionals saved me many times.  And what saved me from myself was ultimately me.  But, it took many years of self-induced suffering before I checked myself.   When I took a good look, I was amazed at just how ignorant I had been.  But, the very questions I had prayed and received no answers for,  were the same questions that I was able to answer through personal introspection, logic and reason.  When I took personal responsibility 6 years ago, I became a non-believer.  When the bible stopped making sense, when reason and logic produced razor sharp introspection… I became a non-believer.  When I accepted evidence over supposition, I became a non-believer.  When I realized that I am a biological product of a natural evolutionary system, I became a non-believer.  I still have problems in my life to solve.  I am human, no different than you.  But, I understand all too clearly that problems aren’t solved by magic, myth, and escapism.  Everything has a price, and it must be paid by me.  That means that I must not only question the problem, but I must also question myself and always take personal responsibility for  my decisions, and the outcome.

The true power in life does not languish in a myth.  True power is real and comes from within yourself.  Sometimes, it takes reaching breaking points to figure it all out.

The Breaking Point…Part 4

Posted in Uncategorized on August 18, 2009 by RJ Evans

Oh fuck!  Oh fuck! I awoke in tremendous pain.  My stomach was cramping bad.  I felt an extremely strong urge to throw up.  I sat up in my bunk and looked at the clock.  2:30 am.  It had been over 8 hours since I’d taken the pills.  Gotta get to the bathroom NOW! I stood up and started to run out of my cubicle, but stopped short as I made the dimly lit hallway.  You can’t get caught.  Slow down.  No.  Run! I ran down the hall, past the OD and into the bathroom.  “Hey!  Hey!” he said.  I ignored him.  There was no time.  I sped through the door and into the bathroom, slamming open a door to the first stall I came to.  I collapsed to my knees with a loud smack as my hands hit the sides of the toilet lid.  My mouth was salivating uncontrollably as the first of multiple heaves convulsed from my stomach to my mouth and exploded into the toilet bowl.  It felt like I had been violently stabbed in the torso as each spasmodic episode created the feeling that my gut was being ripped apart.  Oh God!  Oh God!  Stop!  No!  No pain!  It’s not supposed to happen this way! My eyes were closed tightly, my face contorted as I gasped for breath.  No! No! Another explosive eruption of my insides violently spewed from my mouth, this one missing the bowl and drenching the entire stall.  I opened my eyes just as the OD ran up behind me.  “Oh fuck!   I’m calling an ambulance!  Just hang on!”  I looked at the wall in front of me and then around the stall.  Blood was everywhere mixed with food and bile.  Fuck!  No!  No more! I spewed again.  Not as violent as before, but this time the blood was a darker red.  No.  Please God.  No more. I felt faint.  The room was spinning.  I laid my head on the toilet seat and closed my eyes.  I could feel the coolness of the bile and blood against my cheek.  My arms went limp and my body slumped forward and my neck slowly bent back.  No more.  I can’t…

“Hold his arms down!  I can’t get this tube in him unless you hold his arms down!”  I could hear frantic voices echoing in the room.  I felt cold.  I opened my eyes, the light from a florescent fixture above me causing me to squint.  I felt a several hands clenched tightly around my arms as I fought to reach my nose and resist the violation of some object being forced into it.  I screamed as the object made its way through my nasal cavity, down the back of my throat and into my stomach.  “Com’on man, just relax.  Just try and relax” said a voice through the din of the other urgent voices.  It wasn’t supposed to be this way.  Just let me fuckin’ die.  Just let me die. I gave up fighting as the tube was taped in place to my nose and the side of my face.  My stomach was on fire now.  I felt very sleepy, barely able to keep my eyes open.  Maybe I won’t make it.  I just want to…

“He’s combative!  Someone give me some help here!”  I woke up fighting and crying.  I didn’t know why.  All I could remember was the tube being shoved into me.  No!  No more fuckin’ tubes!  Just let me die you fuckers! The lights blinded me once again.  I began swinging my arms wildly, and then tried to pull the tube out of my nose and the other tubes attached to my arms.  I pulled at wires, slammed my heels against the bed.  “Mr. Evans!  Stop this nonsense right now!” said a female voice.  “Now let us do our work.  If you don’t you’re going to die.  Do you understand?”  I understood very well.  Why the fuck do you think I’m here?  Of course I want to die! Just then I felt a coolness come over my right arm, much like someone was pouring water over a small spot in the crook of my elbow, then it slowly migrated up my arm.  It felt good.  My eyes grew heavy.  Death?  Please, let it be death.  No more.

The Breaking Point…Part 3

Posted in Uncategorized on August 16, 2009 by RJ Evans

I was sitting on my bunk in the barracks, staring at the wall.  Chow time had come and gone.  My bunk mate was out, as usual, and the rest of the guys were off doing who knows what.  The late afternoon sun was bright through the window of the cube across the hall, creating a blindingly bright shaft of light through the doorway across the shiny vinyl floor in front of me.  I took a sip from my freshly opened can of Hawaiian Punch with one hand, and finger fidgeted  a brand new bottle of Extra Strength Tylenol with the other.  My mind wandered back and forth between my pain and my fear.  I thought about all the prayers.  Hundreds of thousands of prayers, prayed by me, sometimes crying, always begging, never a doubt.   But, where were the answers?  I could feel tears welling toward the corners of my eyes.  Fuck it.  I don’t want to do this anymore.

I stood up and tucked the bottle of Tylenol into the waistband of my jeans, concealing it the best I could by pulling my t-shirt up so that it bloused out and over it.  I didn’t want any questions from the Officer of the Day as I made my way to the communal bathroom.  As I walked down the hallway, my fear began to abate, my pain increased.  I hurriedly walked past the OD, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.  He paid no attention to me.  Nobody ever does.  Nobody ever cares. I finally made it down the long hallway to the head.  Suddenly the sounds of the barracks began to rack my ears.  Several stereos playing different songs, a faint conversation here and there, the sound of footsteps walking through the halls.  It was if my senses had become extremely sharp, focused, acute.  My heart began to race, by breathing quickened.  I don’t want to get caught.  I don’t want to be locked up again.  I want this to be over.

As I entered the bathroom, I took a quick look around the stalls to see if anyone was around.  No one.  Good. I walked to the end stall, pushed the door open, then quickly closed and locked the door behind me.  I sat down on the toilet and reached into my waist band for the bottle.  My hands shaking, I almost dropped the bottle as I pulled it from underneath my t-shirt.  Goddammit!  Don’t drop it!  They’ll hear! I set my Hawaiian Punch down on the floor next to the stool, then I pulled the top off the bottle, all the while my hands gently shaking.  This should work.  Yeah, this will work.  One hundred…well maybe not that many.  No, I better take them all. I started to sob.  NO!  Be quiet.  Just take the fuckin’ things and be done with it. I poured a handful of the pills into my hand, placing the remainder in the bottle between my knees.  I reached down to pick up the Hawaiian Punch and one of the pills fell out of my hand and onto the floor.  The noise seemed so loud.  FUCK!  NO!  You can’t do anything right!  Relax.  Just relax. The tears started to form again, wetter, heavier.  I tried to fight them back, but the pain was growing by leaps and bounds.  No.  Stop.  Just fuckin’ stop. I composed myself the best that I could and placed the first handful into my mouth, then I took a big gulp of Hawaiian Punch and swallowed hard, my eyes shut tight and my brow furrowed.  Just a couple more swallows.  That’s all.  Just a couple more.  Then, sleep.  Yeah.  Sleep.

I looked down at the empty bottle and noticed that my hands were wet.  I had been crying the whole time. What a fuckin’ pussy you are.  You’re so fuckin’ pathetic.  Well, it doesn’t matter anymore. I unrolled a handful of toilet paper and wiped my face and eyes.  I didn’t want to leave a trace.  I still had to get past the OD and back to my bunk.  I tucked the empty bottle back into my jeans, made sure my shirt was bloused out and over it, then stood up and unlocked the door.  Just then I heard footsteps enter the room.  “Hey!  You alright in here?”  It was the OD.  I froze.  “Uh, yeah.  I’m fine” I replied.  “Well, just wanted to check.  You’ve been in here for about 20 minutes”.  I didn’t realize that I’d been there that long.  I fumbled out an excuse.  “Just a little…ah little constipated, that’s all.  I’m done now.  Thanks.”  I unlocked the door, expecting to see the OD standing somewhere in the room, but he had already left.  I walked over to the line of sinks, stood in front of one and looked into the mirror.  I looked squarely into my own eyes, red from the tears.  No more pain.  No more pain.  Just go to sleep and it will all be over.

The Breaking Point… Part 2

Posted in Uncategorized on August 16, 2009 by RJ Evans

…and tomorrow came.

The sun sprinkled through the drapes as my eyes struggled to breach the fog. The sounds of voices and machinery tickled my ears, an incessant “beep beep…beep beep”.  I had a very uncomfortable feeling in my nose, down through my throat.  Ah fuck! I thought to myself as I reached to scratch an itch that began to irritate my nose.  “Hey, don’t do that” said a voice.  It was then that I noticed the tube exiting my nose and running off the side of the bed to some device.  Apparently the tube was also causing my throat discomfort as it ran through my throat and into my stomach.  “Good morning Mr. Evans.”  I couldn’t reply.  My mouth was drier than the Sahara desert, it also felt pasty, tasting like chemicals of some sort. “You gave us quite a scare last night.” said the voice.  I struggled to clear the fog.  I went to reach for my eyes, wanting them to open fully.  “Now, you’re going to have to stop moving about” said the voice, as a hand gently grabbed my arm and guided it back to the bed.  It was then that I noticed a blur of more tubes attached to my arms.  “Good to see you awake.  I’ll check on you again in a little while.  The doctor will be in later this afternoon.  Now try and get some rest.”  I tried to get a clearer view of the female voice speaking to me.  My eyes would barely open.  They felt swollen and crusty.  They ached when I tried to open them more than a crack.  I heard a door close.  I turned my head back toward the light that was sneaking through the drapes.  Fuck. I didn’t make it. I’ll have to go back to the carnival ride.

I must have fallen asleep.  The room was now dark as I once again tried to open my eyes.  I could make out a few small lights here and there and a glow from beside the bed.  The incessant “beep beep…beep beep” was back again.  I felt nauseaus, my stomach feeling like I’d eaten a week old pizza that never passed through my digestive system.  I could feel my breathing slowing down.  I could hear the incessant “beep beep…beep beep…beep………beep……….beep….”  Things went into slow motion.  A strange numbness swept over me.  Maybe I don’t have to get back on the ride after all.

-Nothing-

“I’ve got a rhythm!”  Huh?  Wha…what… Pain.  Excruciating pain.  Every inch of my body hurt.  I couldn’t open my eyes at all.  I tried, but they refused to cooperate.  In fact, anything I tried to move just wouldn’t move. I was aware, but I wasn’t.  I could hear voices talking in urgent tones, but I couldn’t make out but a few words.  I could hear shuffling feet, plastic sounds, and the incessant “beep beep…beep beep…” was back.  For the first time since I had jumped off the carnival ride, I felt fear.  Then the numbness returned.  Oh shit!  I don’t want to…

The Breaking Point

Posted in Uncategorized on August 15, 2009 by RJ Evans

Life is analogous to a carnival ride.  After about the two millionth trip around the track, you want to get off and throw up.  Sometimes that isn’t so simple, especially when the ride refuses to stop.  So goes my ride.  Fortunately, riders have the option, albeit a dangerous one, of simply unbuckling the seat belt and jumping off.  Granted, the chances of survival greatly depend on how fast the rides moving at the time, if there is shrubbery near by to break your fall, and how far an ambulance is away from your location.

My ride is moving way too fast, there’s no shrubbery near by, and an ambulance is miles away.  Sounds like a play huh?

The breaking point is a distinct moment in time where one realizes that the probability of successfully completing a task is outweighed by the idiocy of trying.  There are too many obstacles in the way, and too few truths being told.  The breaking point is when all good intentions are thrown by the wayside in favor of lies and deceit, and all in the name of a skydaddy.  Faces fade from view as each lie takes its toll, bringing the breaking point ever closer.  And soon, the breaking point arrives.   I’ve reached mine.

Is there a tomorrow?  Your guess is as good as mine.  We’ll just have to wait and see.

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