Adventures in Atheism

Last night I hosted an event with my local atheist group.  It was at a coffee shop, so as folks started coming in, they would greet me and we were all waiting in line to purchase a beverage.  The guy standing next to me says, “Hello,” and I didn’t recognize him, but I assumed he was with the group and so I greeted him.  (I’m a little new to the group and don’t recognize everyone yet.)  I got my drink and I turn to the guy and ask him, “You’re here with the atheist group?”

 

Yes, that was cheeky of me, since I was aware that he might not be with us, the atheists. 

 

And here I should add that this guy was about 6’5″ and built like a Viking.  Long blonde hair and beard and everything, and a long black trench coat to boot.

 

And when I asked him my question, his eyes bugged out a little.  “What??”

 

“The atheists,” I explain calmly, throwing caution to the wind.  “We’re meeting in the upper room.”

 

“Well, I’m not an atheist,” he says slowly, “but I’m not conventionally religious, either.”

 

“Oh, yeah?” I ask.

 

“Yes.  I practice the traditions associated with what would be the Norse version of Satan.”  He said it really fast, but it was brave of him to say it at all.  He probably figured that if an atheist could talk about that, then by golly, he could talk about his Norse Satanism.

 

“Oh, really?”  Now here I did this thing where, when I’m really surprised by something someone says, I try to make my face go all blank.  It’s probably a very obvious poker face, but at least it’s better than looking prudishly shocked, right?  Besides, 1) I don’t like to appear shocked when someone says something that probably took a lot of courage to say, and 2) if they were trying to shock me, I don’t like to give them the satisfaction.  🙂

 

So the man, encouraged, starts to tell me how his faith is a sort of “don’t fuck with me or I’ll fuck you up” sort of belief system (“Oh really?”) and how he believes humans are a cosmic accident (“Yep.”), and mutations over time making us rather than a god (“Yeah.”), and I’m standing there with my hot chocolate, nodding and wondering what the hell (Hel?) he’s going to say next.

 

“My son is a mutant,” my new Viking friend says.  “He’s got 12 toes and 11 fingers.”

 

“Really?  How’s that working out for him?”  (Yes, I said that.)

 

“He was running when he was 11 months old.”

 

“That’s awesome!”

 

“Yeah.”  He turns to get his drink.  “He’s so smart,” he adds. 

 

And I nodded and said “Cool!” and walked over to my group.

 

Adventures in Atheism!! 

Advertisements

Tags: , ,

One Response to “Adventures in Atheism”

  1. Sisyphus Fragment Says:

    I wish we had local atheist groups here, there’s one in St. Louis, but I hate driving into the city. I wouldn’t even begin to know where to start one here in Belleville.. oh well.. I have the internets..

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: