Seattle Atheists goes outside the bus

In 2009, Seattle Atheists decided to run a visibility campaign with a few varieties of interior bus ads. They featured freethinking quotes from famous figures like Carl Sagan, Ben Franklin, and Thomas Jefferson. Besides outreach to other non-theists, the ads' intent was to educate the public about the legacy of skepticism and critical thought in American history. Despite what religious fundamentalists would like to believe, America was not established as a Christian nation, but rather founded on secular principles that included, for good reason, the separation of church and state. The campaign got a lot of great feedback, so our goal for the next round was to take it to the next level and try for a few ads on the outside of the buses. Two years and some generous donations later, we were finally able start working on that project.



Thanks to a lot of intense work from our dedicated volunteers, our new bus ad campaign launched this week. Twelve local buses are now displaying banners with photos of regular folks in different everyday scenes. The theme: "1 in 4 Washingtonians is an atheist," a stat is based on the 2008 ARIS (American Religious Identification Survey) report. The key idea, again, is visibility. As the website points out:

Many of your friends, your family, and your coworkers are atheists. We help build your bridges, deliver your mail, and heal you when you're sick. Whether you realize it or not, you know plenty of atheists. We'd like to be open about who we are. An atheist is someone who doesn't believe in a god. So open up, come out, and get to know us.

While I recognize that there's been a bit of chatter trying to nitpick the "1 in 4" number (some want to argue that being agnostic, irreligious, having no religion, etc., doesn't necessarily mean you don't believe in god), which is fair, the real message is that those without a god belief do, in fact, make up a noticeable portion of the population, especially in the greater Seattle area, and we deserve to be heard. If you're an atheist, we simply want to say that you're not alone. If you're looking for information about atheism, humanism, skepticism and the like, we can provide you with those resources. And if you're a theist, we just ask that you don't discriminate against others based on religion, and if there's something you don't understand about atheists, feel free to ask us! We're an open book. This campaign is about encouraging dialogue and dispelling myths that surround a perfectly healthy and wholesome worldview.

In closing, I especially want to thank our photographers (Josh and Mike) and graphic design artist (Kyle) for an outstanding job on these ads. Amazing work, guys!

A Rewarding Weekend on the Atheist Front

This past weekend, Seattle Atheists presented its biggest speaking event of the year. We brought in Greta Christina, a nationally acclaimed queer atheist activist, to talk about what the atheist movement can learn from the GLBT movement. Like everything that Greta's written about, her talk was inspiring and honest, and I'm honored to have helped make this happen.

Backing up a bit, I actually owe quite a bit to Greta, and I'm thrilled to see how the last year has come full circle. About two years ago, due to the usual post-fair-season burnout and a few personal reasons, I needed to break from the atheist groups. It was a necessary time for some introspection without the responsibilities of running a nonprofit (and I withdrew from the social groups, too). I guess everybody hits certain points like that, where they just need some space to recuperate and reflect. Plus, unlike when I first moved to Seattle from the Midwest and immediately gorged myself with this newfound atheist/skeptic/humanist community, I found that I no longer needed something from these groups, so my interest in Seattle Atheists started to wane a little bit. I still loved the org and was glad it existed, but I wasn't sure what my focus was. I kept an eye on what was happening, stayed informed with the news, but I took a break from actually participating.

I started testing the waters again during the summer of 2010, and in September I chanced upon a lecture by Sean Faircloth, executive director of the Secular Coalition for America, giving a talk about returning America to its secular roots. His speech was poignant, action-oriented, and well-versed in history and current events, which stuck with me more than talks about the reasons why religion is illogical, or how the Bible doesn't make sense, etc., etc.. A match was lit.

I don't think it was more than a week later when I decided to show my support for our locally produced Ask an Atheist TV show and sat in the studio audience. Once I arrived, I was told that we had a celebrity atheist blogger in our midst, though I was embarrassed to admit I hadn't heard of Greta Christina before. At any rate, getting an up-close-and-personal glimpse of the amazing work that was being put into this show really moved me. I had been following the show at home and on the Internet, and that afternoon I watched Case and Mike do an impressively researched skeptical segment about 9/11 truthers. I was filled with such pride to see how the TV show was developing, and what better way to reach out to the greater population. The entire concept behind the show made atheists visible and approachable. Got a question about us? Just ask! And the calls poured in—not just from Seattle, but from all over the country.

Following the program, the studio audience was treated to a bonus—Mike’s interview with Greta Christina. Among other things, she talked about the history of the gay movement and the parallels it had with the newer atheist movement, and it was about that time when I recognized what I was looking for—activism. My focus had finally shifted from “What can [atheist group] do for me?” to “What can I do for the atheist movement?” I had rekindled the fire and found a new motivation, and what better timing? The Seattle Atheists elections were that same month, so I decided to get back on the board.

During our discussions at the board retreat and subsequent conversations with our members, I was happy to see the organization desiring a similar shift in focus. Like previous years, we’ve put on some great events this term that featured speakers including Jen McCreight (on Boobquake), Bob Seidensticker (on apologetics), and Valerie Tarico (on recovering from religion), and when it came time to pick our big-name speaker of the year, I couldn’t help suggesting Greta.

It was an absolute pleasure getting to meet Greta and her wife Ingrid in person. (Playing chauffeur was pretty fun, too—shame I didn't know earlier in the ride that they were huge fans of They Might Be Giants.) They are simply amazing individuals who have a lot of valuable insight on the gay and atheist movements. In both her writings and her lectures, I love the way Greta puts together her thoughts into intelligent, well-thought-out pieces. Her writing especially takes all the scattered ideas I've had floating around in my brain and organizes them, quite thoroughly, into comprehensive, coherent commentaries. This weekend's speech was no different. I almost wish I could find fault with her ideas, but I can't. I love everything she has to say.

We had a successful panel discussion following the lecture, which featured women atheists giving a more local perspective on their experiences with atheism and gender. There was a lot of great discussion about diversity and what can be done to cultivate stronger and more inclusive godless communities. Plus, on Sunday Greta was interviewed by Ask an Atheist (which is now a radio show) about her thoughts on bigotry as applied to atheism and atheists.

This was a wonderful, rewarding weekend all around, and I thank Greta and Ingrid for sharing their time with us. I hope to work more with them in the future.

Wily Wednesdays - FSM Evolution

As most of you know, I've been spending most of my time lately working on atheist-related things: organizing Seattle Atheists' booth, getting our giant FSM float ready for two parades, assembling literature and merchandise, starting up a new nonprofit summer camp for freethinking kids, preparing for Greta Christina in August, etc.

Since I'm a shameless Pastafarian (Kyle nicely captures some of our previous work), this week I'm sharing the latest in our evolution of mini FSM critters. As always, we've got classic flour and whole wheat pasta, and now he comes in Autumn, two varieties of Spinach, Angel Hair, Rainbow, and my new favorite, Bubblegum.









If you can't resist owning one of these little dudes, let us know! Or stop by our table at Pride this Sunday. Collect them all!

The End Is Nigh...But Probably Not

Okay, by now you've probably heard about Family Radio's Harold Camping preaching that the End Times are upon us (while sinking a disgusting amount of advertising money into it). According to this particular sect of Christianity, Judgment Day is tomorrow, May 21, which will be followed by five months of terrifying Armageddon for those left behind, and on October 21, the world will cease to exist.

Seattle Atheists, however, isn't going to just stand by while this happens. We've decided that, if the Rapture were indeed to happen, it's pretty much guaranteed that we'll be left behind, so we better be prepared to do something about all that pain and suffering. Thus, we're raising money for our Rapture Relief campaign, in which we'll do our level best to provide relief to a world ravaged by earthquakes, asteroids, volcanic eruptions, plagues, and all manner of suffering.

Um, seriously?

All kidding aside, in the more likely event that the world continues as normal on May 22, we do have an honest plan in the works. Camp Quest is a summer camp devoted to teaching children about science and critical thinking, and we want to throw in our support. In fact, the closest camp is in California, and it's time to work on opening a local chapter in Washington, which is exactly where our donations and efforts are going.


I'm excited to be working on a fundraiser for a good cause. I've heard nothing but praise for the camp from parents who've sent their children there, so I'm proud to be supporting it. The truth is, beliefs have consequences, and they can sometimes have disastrous results. Let's make sure future generations don't get sucked into any and every ridiculous idea that gets thrown at them.

If you'd like to help out, you can chip in here:

Wily Wednesdays - Atheist Art

A few months ago, Seattle Atheists held a t-shirt design contest under the theme "Atheists coming out." I didn't come close to creating a winning design, but I made something that wasn't horrible, so I'll submit it here. In an effort to create something that was eye-catching and represented both our mission and our geographical location, I used a Pacific Northwest Indian art style, contained within the shape of an atom, and whose center resembles an eye. The end result got a little too busy, even though it's much simpler than my original idea, which was to illustrate, using that same art style, each major stage in the human evolution chain within each electron orbital segment. Yeah, I tried to do too much with this concept, in a style I'm completely unfamiliar with. Nonetheless, I still like the image, even if it wasn't popular.

Why I'm an Atheist . . . and an Activist

"Why don't you believe in God?" It's the inevitable question, and I'd like to formalize at least part of the answer for anyone curious about it. Yes, I'm an atheist. I've been one since I was fourteen. For the last several years, it's no secret that I've devoted a good deal of my spare time to volunteering in an atheist nonprofit, so not only am I a godless heathen, but I'm also pretty active about it. Chances are, if you don't know me well and you're of the religious persuasion, you've already started making some negative assumptions just from those labels, but hear me out. I invite you to take a glimpse of the world through my eyes for a moment.

In an earlier post, I gave an overview of my history with religion, and how I came to disown a religion that wasn't of my choosing. In the beginning, I found my intellectual curiosity for the way the world really worked in conflict with a belief in the Christian God. I could go into great detail about the logical inconsistencies, the lack of hard evidence, the conflicts between scientific investigations of nature and theological explanations . . . but I and many others have elaborated on these points ad nauseum. I'm always happy to get into the existence-of-gods debate, but that's not the perspective I want to take with this. I want to approach this from a humanistic, quality-of-life point of view.

Before I go on, I should clarify the asterisk that comes with this chosen label. I call myself an atheist because I don't think there's significant proof of gods, or even the supernatural, but it isn't a declaration that deities/spirits/souls/afterworlds don't exist. One way or the other, I can't objectively know 100%, and neither can you, if you'll be honest. I can't disprove it anymore than you can disprove the invisible pink unicorn hanging out in my living room. But I find it so unlikely that I can't in good conscience pick a god to believe in, worship that god, and take on faith whatever that god's followers say I should believe. Therefore, to be technically correct, I consider myself an agnostic atheist.

So, again, why do I call myself an atheist?

The short answer: Penguins.

Yes, penguins. Do you appreciate the bleak, freezing, isolated life cycle of the Emperor penguin? What kind of sadistic Creator would design such a creature with such an unreasonably severe life? It's cruel, downright pitiless.

In all seriousness, though, having a naturalistic world view makes me the best person I can be. In some ways it's really simple. It's the Golden Rule in its purest form: treat others as you would want to be treated. What are the attributes that contribute to our quality of life? Morality, happiness, love, peace, self-awareness, community, contentment, charity. Approaching these subjects from an earthly, observable standpoint, unhindered by dogma and false securities, I'm provided a certain clarity of mind. Without the fear of hell or an angry anthropomorphized god, and likewise without the idea of heaven or a mysterious, patriarchal sense of celestial love, I'm left with the reality of my life and my surroundings as I can observe them. I am responsible for my own life -- my only life -- and for the lives of others, and for the planet I call home. This is all I have, so I best make the most of it.

I have an overwhelming sense of urgency to make this life the best it can be. "But why do you do it?" you may ask. "Why get up in the morning? Where's the purpose? If this is what you believe, then you're on your own, a product of millions of years of evolution, living on a rock hurtling through space around a fiery ball of gas. . . . When you die, you're just gone. . . . Bad things happen for no ulterior, divine reason. . . . God doesn't answer prayers, because there is no God. . . . No meaning is given to you from above. How is your life not depressing, nihilistic, loveless? Don't you feel anything?"

You know, it's a little terrifying when you put it like that . . . but not really. Not when you take a breath, sit back, and analyze where each of those concerns come from. To me, letting go of God was a process akin to growing up. When we're young, and if we were fortunate enough to have had a healthy upbringing, our parents gave us unconditional love and helped us make sense of the big scary world around us. They sheltered us from the bad things, provided for us, guided us in our understanding of right and wrong, simplified or even fudged the truth for us when something was too complicated or too "adult" for our fledgling brains. They gave us stories, for both entertainment and moral lessons. We also learned respect, and obedience. For a young kid who doesn't know any better, parents are larger than life -- almost godlike in their wisdom, their gifts, and their punishments.

But maturing into adulthood meant realizing that we can't expect our parents, or anyone, to take care of us forever, that eventually we must go out into the world and survive on our own. When times are tough, we won't always have that parental safety net. We reach a point when we must find our own answers, rather than waiting for someone to give them to us. And most of all, we realize that they aren't infallible, immortal, all-knowing guardians; they're human, with all the flaws and triumphs that come with it. That doesn't make us love them any less, but we do see those relationships from a new, deeper perspective. And the things we thought only our parents could provide -- in time we realize, step by step, that we can do it on our own, without training wheels.

I'd argue that the question of whether or not god exists isn't even that important in the grand scheme of things; it's where we go from there that matters. I understand the emotional comfort that some experience through religion. It speaks to their needs and provides easy answers to life's big questions. But for me, it was an emotional need that I outgrew. The meaning of life is whatever I make it. Sometimes bad things just happen, without an overarching divine reason. My desire to do good, to help others, to seek justice, is without fear of punishment, adherence to blind obedience, or the hope of eternal reward; it is wholly for the sake of goodness itself. Because it's just right. I think we all feel this, even if we don't admit it. We all have an internal sense of morality that guides us, and even if your holy book never existed, I'd argue that you'd still have morals. I guess that's my faith -- faith in humanity. Chances are you've already abandoned certain commands of your religion -- you reject slavery, believe women are equal to men, do not condemn homosexuals, have no problem with wearing clothing of mixed fibers, believe in proper sex education, or don't consider shellfish an abomination, among other things. The point is, you've already trusted your internal moral guide to select what parts of your religion's beliefs are important, and which should be discarded.

When it comes to spirituality, though it may be a word I have trouble using for myself, if only because of its wide array of definitions, I still seek to experience the awe and the joy of life. I don't have all the answers, but I'm comfortable with the not knowing. I don't need to fill the void with a fantasy, but accept with an open mind that we just don't know yet. But I will investigate this world around me, to understand it, even when it provides truths that are difficult to swallow. Nature is my religion, if I can be said to have one. I have a deep and abiding respect for this earth, and for the creatures I share it with. We have to work together for our survival and our higher sense of wellbeing, and that means questioning, observing, taking responsibility, learning, adapting. I'm privileged to have this brain that's capable of self-awareness and complex meta-thoughts, and I intend to use those faculties to their fullest extent. There's so much to take in! Thinking rationally about the mysteries of life only adds to the experience. As Carl Sagan so beautifully put it, we are the way the universe can know itself. I owe it to the entire cosmos to learn as much about it as I can before my atoms get recycled back into the earth.

I'm an activist because atheists are so often misunderstood, and feared, and hated. We've got some really harsh stereotypes applied to us, and it's time to come out of the closet and show the world who we are. I want to educate, to open a dialogue, to answer your questions -- please, ask me anything! I want to form a community, and to support those in need. I want to fight discrimination on all levels, and to work toward peace and enlightenment. I may not believe in your god, but there's still a lot that I do believe in, just like you. I don't wish to "de-convert" people, any more than a gay-rights activist wants to turn straight folks gay; I only mean to show you that there are those who do not have a god in their life, and I'm one of them. It's not a life of depravity or lawlessness, but one that's wholesome and gratifying and meaningful.