Greetings Steve,

Most interesting!

I call myself an atheist, because I do not 
believe in a God.  That seems simple enough. But 
I do NOT favor scientism either.  I do not accept 
the concept of God because it is far too 
limiting.  Like any definition of DQ, or TAO, is 
not it.  I reject anyone else's definition, the 
bible's, Ham's or the Pope's.  (The idea of a 
puppetmaster in the sky is just 
ludicrous.)   There is a line from a movie that goes like this:

"There goes a very religious man, who doesn't believe in God".

I am an atheist!

Marsha





At 08:10 PM 1/28/2008, you wrote:
>Hi All,
>
>One reason that I have had negative associations with atheism is
>because I see atheists as rejecting spirituality in favor of
>scientism. This is a stereotype of course, and it doesn't apply to
>all atheists, nor does it apply to Sam Harris.
>
>I found this speech where Sam Harris explains religious experience to
>a bunch of atheists at an atheist convention interesting. He explains
>mysticism in a very rational way. I'd be interested in your thoughts
>on this excerpt from his speech "The Problem With Atheism":
>
>http://newsweek.washingtonpost.com/onfaith/sam_harris/2007/10/
>the_problem_with_atheism.html
>
>"...Here’s what happens, in the generic case: a person, in whatever
>culture he finds himself, begins to notice that life is difficult. He
>observes that even in the best of times—no one close to him has died,
>he’s healthy, there are no hostile armies massing in the distance,
>the fridge is stocked with beer, the weather is just so—even when
>things are as good as they can be, he notices that at the level of
>his moment to moment experience, at the level of his attention, he is
>perpetually on the move, seeking happiness and finding only temporary
>relief from his search.
>
>We’ve all noticed this. We seek pleasant sights, and sounds, and
>tastes, and sensations, and attitudes. We satisfy our intellectual
>curiosities, and our desire for friendship and romance. We become
>connoisseurs of art and music and film—but our pleasures are, by
>their very nature, fleeting. And we can do nothing more than merely
>reiterate them as often as we are able.
>
>If we enjoy some great professional success, our feelings of
>accomplishment remain vivid and intoxicating for about an hour, or
>maybe a day, but then people will begin to ask us “So, what are you
>going to do next? Don’t you have anything else in the pipeline?”
>Steve Jobs releases the IPhone, and I’m sure it wasn’t twenty minutes
>before someone asked, “when are you going to make this thing
>smaller?” Notice that very few people at this juncture, no matter
>what they’ve accomplished, say, “I’m done. I’ve met all my goals. Now
>I’m just going to stay here eat ice cream until I die in front of you.”
>
>Even when everything has gone as well as it can go, the search for
>happiness continues, the effort required to keep doubt and
>dissatisfaction and boredom at bay continues, moment to moment. If
>nothing else, the reality of death and the experience of losing loved
>ones punctures even the most gratifying and well-ordered life.
>
>In this context, certain people have traditionally wondered whether a
>deeper form of well-being exists. Is there, in other words, a form of
>happiness that is not contingent upon our merely reiterating our
>pleasures and successes and avoiding our pains. Is there a form of
>happiness that is not dependent upon having one’s favorite food
>always available to be placed on one’s tongue or having all one’s
>friends and loved ones within arm’s reach, or having good books to
>read, or having something to look forward to on the weekend? Is it
>possible to be utterly happy before anything happens, before one’s
>desires get gratified, in spite of life’s inevitable difficulties, in
>the very midst of physical pain, old age, disease, and death?
>
>This question, I think, lies at the periphery of everyone’s
>consciousness. We are all, in some sense, living our answer to it—and
>many of us are living as though the answer is “no.” No, there is
>nothing more profound that repeating one’s pleasures and avoiding
>one’s pains; there is nothing more profound that seeking
>satisfaction, both sensory and intellectual. Many of us seem think
>that all we can do is just keep our foot on the gas until we run out
>of road.
>
>But certain people, for whatever reason, are led to suspect that
>there is more to human experience than this. In fact, many of them
>are led to suspect this by religion—by the claims of people like the
>Buddha or Jesus or some other celebrated religious figures. And such
>a person may begin to practice various disciplines of attention—often
>called “meditation” or “contemplation”—as a means of examining his
>moment to moment experience closely enough to see if a deeper basis
>of well-being is there to be found.
>
>Such a person might even hole himself up in a cave, or in a
>monastery, for months or years at a time to facilitate this process.
>Why would somebody do this? Well, it amounts to a very simple
>experiment. Here’s the logic of it: if there is a form of
>psychological well-being that isn’t contingent upon merely repeating
>one’s pleasures, then this happiness should be available even when
>all the obvious sources of pleasure and satisfaction have been
>removed. If it exists at all, this happiness should be available to a
>person who has renounced all her material possessions, and declined
>to marry her high school sweetheart, and gone off to a cave or to
>some other spot that would seem profoundly uncongenial to the
>satisfaction of ordinary desires and aspirations.
>
>One clue as to how daunting most people would find such a project is
>the fact that solitary confinement—which is essentially what we are
>talking about—is considered a punishment even inside a prison. Even
>when cooped up with homicidal maniacs and rapists, most people still
>prefer the company of others to spending any significant amount of
>time alone in a box.
>
>And yet, for thousands of years, contemplatives have claimed to find
>extraordinary depths of psychological well-being while spending vast
>stretches of time in total isolation. It seems to me that, as
>rational people, whether we call ourselves “atheists” or not, we have
>a choice to make in how we view this whole enterprise. Either the
>contemplative literature is a mere catalogue of religious delusion,
>deliberate fraud, and psychopathology, or people have been having
>interesting and even normative experiences under the name of
>“spirituality” and “mysticism” for millennia.
>
>Now let me just assert, on the basis of my own study and experience,
>that there is no question in my mind that people have improved their
>emotional lives, and their self-understanding, and their ethical
>intuitions, and have even had important insights about the nature of
>subjectivity itself through a variety of traditional practices like
>meditation.
>
>Leaving aside all the metaphysics and mythology and mumbo jumbo, what
>contemplatives and mystics over the millennia claim to have
>discovered is that there is an alternative to merely living at the
>mercy of the next neurotic thought that comes careening into
>consciousness. There is an alternative to being continuously
>spellbound by the conversation we are having with ourselves.
>
>Most us think that if a person is walking down the street talking to
>himself—that is, not able to censor himself in front of other people—
>he’s probably mentally ill. But if we talk to ourselves all day long
>silently—thinking, thinking, thinking, rehearsing prior
>conversations, thinking about what we said, what we didn’t say, what
>we should have said, jabbering on to ourselves about what we hope is
>going to happen, what just happened, what almost happened, what
>should have happened, what may yet happen—but we just know enough to
>just keep this conversation private, this is perfectly normal. This
>is perfectly compatible with sanity. Well, this is not what the
>experience of millions of contemplatives suggests.
>
>Of course, I am by no means denying the importance of thinking. There
>is no question that linguistic thought is indispensable for us. It
>is, in large part, what makes us human. It is the fabric of almost
>all culture and every social relationship. Needless to say, it is the
>basis of all science. And it is surely responsible for much
>rudimentary cognition—for integrating beliefs, planning, explicit
>learning, moral reasoning, and many other mental capacities. Even
>talking to oneself out loud may occasionally serve a useful function.
>
>  From the point of view of our contemplative traditions, however—to
>boil them all down to a cartoon version, that ignores the rather
>esoteric disputes among them—our habitual identification with
>discursive thought, our failure moment to moment to recognize
>thoughts as thoughts, is a primary source of human suffering. And
>when a person breaks this spell, an extraordinary kind of relief is
>available.
>
>But the problem with a contemplative claim of this sort is that you
>can’t borrow someone else’s contemplative tools to test it. The
>problem is that to test such a claim—indeed, to even appreciate how
>distracted we tend to be in the first place, we have to build our own
>contemplative tools. Imagine where astronomy would be if everyone had
>to build his own telescope before he could even begin to see if
>astronomy was a legitimate enterprise. It wouldn’t make the sky any
>less worthy of investigation, but it would make it immensely more
>difficult for us to establish astronomy as a science.
>
>To judge the empirical claims of contemplatives, you have to build
>your own telescope. Judging their metaphysical claims is another
>matter: many of these can be dismissed as bad science or bad
>philosophy by merely thinking about them. But to judge whether
>certain experiences are possible—and if possible, desirable—we have
>to be able to use our attention in the requisite ways. We have to be
>able to break our identification with discursive thought, if only for
>a few moments. This can take a tremendous amount of work. And it is
>not work that our culture knows much about.
>
>One problem with atheism as a category of thought, is that it seems
>more or less synonymous with not being interested in what someone
>like the Buddha or Jesus may have actually experienced. In fact, many
>atheists reject such experiences out of hand, as either impossible,
>or if possible, not worth wanting. Another common mistake is to
>imagine that such experiences are necessarily equivalent to states of
>mind with which many of us are already familiar—the feeling of
>scientific awe, or ordinary states of aesthetic appreciation,
>artistic inspiration, etc.
>
>As someone who has made his own modest efforts in this area, let me
>assure you, that when a person goes into solitude and trains himself
>in meditation for 15 or 18 hours a day, for months or years at a
>time, in silence, doing nothing else—not talking, not reading, not
>writing—just making a sustained moment to moment effort to merely
>observe the contents of consciousness and to not get lost in thought,
>he experiences things that most scientists and artists are not likely
>to have experienced, unless they have made precisely the same efforts
>at introspection. And these experiences have a lot to say about the
>plasticity of the human mind and about the possibilities of human
>happiness..."
>
>Moq_Discuss mailing list
>Listinfo, Unsubscribing etc.
>http://lists.moqtalk.org/listinfo.cgi/moq_discuss-moqtalk.org
>Archives:
>http://lists.moqtalk.org/pipermail/moq_discuss-moqtalk.org/
>http://moq.org.uk/pipermail/moq_discuss_archive/


*************
DEFINITION of  Marsha, I, me, self, myself, & 
etc.:   Ever-changing collection of overlapping, 
interrelated, inorganic, biological, social and 
intellectual, static patterns of value.

     

Moq_Discuss mailing list
Listinfo, Unsubscribing etc.
http://lists.moqtalk.org/listinfo.cgi/moq_discuss-moqtalk.org
Archives:
http://lists.moqtalk.org/pipermail/moq_discuss-moqtalk.org/
http://moq.org.uk/pipermail/moq_discuss_archive/

Reply via email to