God Is An Abusive Boyfriend


(After finishing the God Delusion by Richard Dawkins for the third time in the span of about a year, and having also read Hitchens’ God is Not Great a few times as well, I found that my many opinions about Christianity finally started to take some coherent form. I could write an entire book [and I hope to at some point] about my feelings on Christianity, as well as religion in general. In an effort to work toward that, I’ve started taking notes. The following is more less copied and pasted from my notepad so it isn’t entirely fleshed out or well-organized, but it is a good place to start. I wanted to point out that these are notes for myself so that it’s clear that this isn’t the final product, just the early stages of something I’m working on.)

Christianity is a system of cyclical emotional abuse that inculcates and indoctrinates new members (almost always as emotionally vulnerable and mentally impressionable children) to believe that they fundamentally disordered in such a way that they are evil and worthy of eternal torment from the moment they are born. Not only this, but they are taught to believe that they CANNOT be anything other than evil and worthy of the most horrific kind of torture and punishment, because the only way to be truly good, moral, and decent, is to allow Christ to take on your own sin (whether you’ve committed any sin or not), and Christianity takes care to institute such rigorous regulations that most normal, healthy, biologically necessary actions are considered sinful, and thought crime is preached by the central deity, so that absolutely any moment of anything other than complete lobotomized silence is viewed as sinful and in need of correction or forgiveness. To be naked is a sin, to experience physical arousal is a sin, to desire to be close and to express love is a sin, to even think about exercising a completely healthy biological function like masturbation is a sin, even unavoidable biological functions like menstruation are sinful and “unclean,” in short: everything that any normal human being might do is considered a sin, so that no matter how hard you try, you cannot escape God’s righteous indignation.

This tactic is sometimes employed by the military, during basic training, in which a drill Sargeant will emotionally abuse his pupils by setting such absurd regulations on behavior that it becomes literally impossible for the rules to be followed, and so the entire unit is punished when one pupil slips up. Drill Sargeant will also give conflicting orders and punish a cadet no matter their actions, regardless of if they obeyed or not, simply to torture them. The reason for this barbaric method of training is to purposely bring the unit together in their utter contempt of the drill Sargeant, and yet also to fear and obey him, regardless of his orders, because it is the only way to avoid punishment, even if avoiding it is futile. Soldiers are placed under such extreme mental and emotional stress in an attempt to completely break their spirit, and then rebuild their demolished psyche into that of a ruthless killing machine whose only goal and joy comes from following orders and serving the military.

This kind of barbaric treatment is contemptible, but when it’s done in the military, people recognize it for what it is. Even those who justify this cruelty say that it’s done for a purpose. No one pretends that this medieval method of training is done out of love and compassion. But when God does the same things, and worse, people will make any excuse to justify his contemptible behavior, and most sickeningly of all: that God abuses and tortures his creations because he LOVES us. God is the ultimate abusive boyfriend. Countless times throughout the Bible he presses into service those same excuses we know abusers use: “You brought this on yourself,” “Look what you made me do,” “I’m only doing this because I love you.” If any man were on trial for doing a fraction of the things god does to his children, he would most certainly be sentenced to prison or worse. Yet his actions are excused and justified by his victims, who trip over themselves to believe that 2+2=5 if God says it does.


The Vampire and the King of the Underworld

Veritas lumbered forward, breathing dry, heavy breaths, his eyes fixed on the figure draped in black.

The figure in black smiled kindly. “It has been a long time.”

Veritas’ mouth contorted to what someone may have perceived to be a smile, had their been light enough in the grand, open chamber of the Earth to see. When he spoke, his voice was ragged and tired, as though he’d just been dragged across sharp stones and it took all of his effort to speak. “Lucian, my friend. I have waited many long years for this day.”

Lucian smiled, the youth in his face a sharp contrast to the decrepid wrinkles of Veritas’ sagging skin. He raised a hand to touch the face of the vampire tenderly, as though admiring a work of art. “And look what time has done to you. He is an enemy of mortals, time.”

Vertias kept his eyes fixed upon Lucian, the slight smile still spread across his aged skin. Though his body and his face seemed to be sagging relics barely glued together by the aged veins and muscles, his eyes were bright and sharp, even through the cloudy haze that covered them. “You know that I am not mortal.”

“You should be,” Lucian said in an almost pained voice. “I look upon you and feel shame at my work.” He stepped back and looked Veritas up and down. “This was once a young, able human body, transformed into a graceful creature of darkness. Pitiful, but beauteous. And look now.”

Vertias seemed to straighten slightly, though he could not reach his full height, and he certainly didn’t compare to the towering figure draped in the black cloak.

Lucian continued, pacing around Veritas, circling him as he spoke, “These supple sinews have aged and degraded, but the curse of immortality keeps them from dying. These cells have grown weak and long to be transformed, to return to the earth, but not a hair nor the tiniest grain of skin can move on. They are bound eternally to this weak skeleton, made into a monster by the hands of a dark god.”

Veritas remained silent, and Lucian continued.

“Those eyes are the same that gazed with wonder upon my world eleven hundred years ago. Those lips are the very same that pleaded with me to unleash a hellish power upon the world. Tell me, in that slowly, still-beating, tortured heart, does there exist remorse? Remorse for what has happened both to this world, now filled with magic wars, or for the torture placed upon your frail human body, which could only survive so long as a dark instrument of godly power? Remorse, anywhere?”

Veritas spoke slowly, each word drawn out to it’s full length, each word a representation of the heart within that beated and felt and longed. “I have not sorrow nor remorse for what has become of this world which I presume to call my own. I have given it life.”

“Indeed you have, my friend,” Lucian replied, standing before Veritas again, and towering over the pitiful figure. “Eleven hundred years ago you gave me your life, and I spun it into a wellspring of magic, and bestowed that gift upon the world. A reckless and dangerous bargain the two of us struck, and the gods were furious with me for it. But I saw what became of your world.”

“It was…” Veritas choked the words out, as though his dry throat could no longer allow him to speak, “Too late. My sacrifice was for nothing.”

Lucian stretched out his arms wide. “Nothing?” He smiled as he asked. “But my friend, up on the surface the people do wonders with your magic, with your very spirit! They heal the sick, they move the mountains from one place to another, your spirit was strong enough to give them hope to achieve any destiny they choose, so long as the strength of their hearts is great enough! The very essence of the magic the world now holds is a reflection of your spirit! You are an integral part of the Earth!”

“Then, my friend, let me return to it.” Veritas’ voice sounded pleading. “Let me leave behind this empty, broken vessel, that it may rest at last and return to the warm bosom of the Earth in which we now stand. Take back into your realm at the heart of the planet this body that so long ago brought me here to ask of you that ghastly favor that would render me a slave to my own existence for a hundred and a thousand years!”

Lucian closed his eyes. There was a long silence, and a sound as though the crackling of a fire in a hearth could be heard somewhere in the distance, echoing along the corridors through the damp Earth. “I do confess, my human friend-”

“Vampire!” spit Vertias, teeth clenched, the word hissing through his teeth.

Lucian smiled, his eyes still closed. “Yes, then. Vampire. The creature which I made you. I confess that if you feel no remorse for unleashing this power upon the world, I do. For I see now the terrible price you have paid to see your beautiful green world furnished with the power of magic. I see now the flesh that longs to release it’s grasp upon those tired old bones, but cannot, and must stay forever bound together, aging and aging and aging. Tomorrow,” he whispered, “And tomorrow… and… tomorrow…”

Silence, but for the distant sound of what must have been the fire.

“Seeing you in this state,” Lucian continued, his eyes still closed, “It pains me. And to strike pain into the heart of a god, the god of the underworld no less, where all pain meets with the love of the great mother Earth, is an achievement.”

“I care not,” Veritas mumbled, “for achievement anymore.” And he stared defeatedly at the ground.

“The price has been paid, my friend.” Lucian opened his eyes and walked over to Veritas, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Look now.” And with a sweep of his arm, he opened for them in the dense earth a chasm, in which swirled the colorful soul of the planet, the magic that had once been released. “The spirit of the Earth that I weaved into magic with the spirit of Levi Stanley.”

Vertias’ crumpled mouth turned up again into his deformed smile. “I had forgotten my old name,” he sputtered, “Lost, it’s been, for at least a few hundred years.”

“Old friend,” Lucian sighed, “Your debt is paid. I will now release you from the mortal body your spirit has been eternally bound to. I alter the terms of our bargain. I see now that there is hope in this world for the magic of your spirit to be weilded by humanity with the fruitfullness and righteousness of the gods, with the love and the compassion of the Earth and of the underworld. What you have done for the world was good, and your payment has been made in full.”

Vertias closed his eyes, and as the skin on his face became moist and began to loosen, almost as though it were about to slide off, a watery tear fell from the eye that had not shed water for eleven hundred years.

“Return now to Her bosom, for she welcomes you, and I, Lucian Incarnum, who stand guard by her very soul, keeper of the underworld and shepherd of the dead whose position it is to lead all life from one existence to another, grant you permission to die to this body and to this existence, and to be reborn in another, as dictated by the great cycle of the Earth Mother.”

In the great, vast cavern where the king of the underworld dwelt, all light vanished, and even the colorful spirit of the Earth Mother that swirled in the chasm at his feet was covered by a darkness too dense to perceive. In the darkness could be heard the sound of one flesh slamming against another with great force, and the anguish and relief blended together in the cry of a man who had lived eleven hundred and twenty-two years, and for a moment a light shone in the darkness, the small, twinkling light of a heart that had not stopped beating for all of that time, clenched tightly in the hand of the shepherd of the dead. And then the light was extinguished, and within the dense pool in the Earth the colorful spirit of the Earth could be seen glowing with new life, welcoming home the spirit of the man who had exchanged his life for hope.

“Because I could not stop for death,” the king of the underworld whispered, “He kindly stopped for me.”

Animal Love

I found this video on YouTube of this 8th grade kid talking about his day at school and how he admires this gay couple at his school and about how hard it is to be gay when you’re in middle school. Well, some (presumable) adult was fucking picking on him and telling him that they raised their kids better and that he’s a queer and a dissapointment to his parents, and oh my god I flipped my shit. I’m so disgusted and appalled and sickened that a fucking grown-up would come on the internet and harass an eighth grade kid. It’s fucking disgusting, and it really makes me hate this fucking world we live in so much, and feel so sorry for the people who are brave enough to be themselves and even if they’re KIDS, they’re treated like shit for it.

THIS is why I can’t stand our culture. THIS is why I HATE Christianity. This is what’s fucking wrong with everything, these disgusting narrow-minded, backwards attitudes from people who are so insecure and small and weak that they have to pick on children and thrust beliefs that they don’t truly believe on to other people so that they can feel like they have some worth as a person, because they’re too afraid, due to their families, due to religion, and due to society, to look themselves in the mirror, and love themselves, and accept who they are.


You know, I just want to say, it’s sad that Whitney Houston died. But I wish that every teenager and young adult who commuted suicide because they were hated and treated like shit for who they are received the same media attention. Because Whitney Houston caused her own death. She CHOSE to do drugs until it killed her. It’s sad, sure, but as important as Whitney Houston was to so many people, those gay kids who killed themselves were precious young human beings who didn’t even have the time to discover their talents and make a life for themselves, and they took their own lives because they were treated with anger and hatred over something that they HAD no choice in. Take stock: which death means what? No death is greater or less than another, nothing at all is greater or less than anything else with true things like this, like death. There are the deaths of these kids, children and young adults who never got to know who they are, and the death of a person who chose continually to do drugs until it killed them. A hundred deaths are equal to one death in the eyes of love, and these people have moved forward into their next state of existence, but Whitney lived a life full of love and acceptance and privilege and chose to do the drugs that killed her; these kids suffered as children, before they ever had a chance to experience their lives, and they left in a state of love so bruised and hurt that it drowned in the pressures and hatred of a society of pressures and hatred. They were kids who loved. They were the ones who had it right. And now they’re gone. The world is filled with less love now that they’re gone. May they be treated with dignity, respect, and love in their next existence.


Animals love. They only know love, and they only know how to love 100%, they are incapable of anything but true love that has no ideas and situations surrounding it. And that’s what makes animal cruelty so terrible, because they don’t stop loving when their beaten, they fear but they still love 100%. It’s just like with small children who are beaten and who are abused; and as we grow older we forget that perfect love with which we began and cling to these concepts of “God” and “Heaven” as a means to try and get it back. Well it hasn’t gone anywhere, it’s still inside of us. And if we could just achieve the peace of mind and heart that an animal feels, we could be perfect again. We wouldn’t need to worry about a “Heaven,” and people wouldn’t spend their entire fucking LIVES WAITING for something to happen after it, they wouldn’t need to do that because if we would use the beautiful and powerful evolutionary gifts of intelligence to connect the mind and the heart, we could achieve animal peace, and we could achieve 100% love for ourselves and one another, and we could live in happiness. And I mean ACTUAL happiness. True emotion, and true living, without concepts, without things, without gods, without ideas, just love.

This idea people have of Heaven, well that’s what it is. Being connected eternally with the perfect love that is already inside of us. And the thing is, it’s SO possible for humanity to reach that state. It genuinely is, and people think that this sounds like a silly hippy dream but it’s NOT, it’s very real, and if we would drop concepts and start looking within ourselves and undoing the damage that has been done by this thing called civilization, and go back to the animal love and the state of peace we were designed in this planet to be, we would fit, we would make sense, and we would have love, and all meaning in this world would be gained, and we wouldn’t have to think about gods and heavens. We HAVE these things inside of us, and so many people choose to believe that it’s all on the “other side,” well it’s NOT on the other side, it’s here, love is here, and perfection is here, and it can be acheived, and EVERYONE WANTS THIS! That’s the thing, everyone wants it, and no one is willing to accept it, and to accept the gift of love that is already within ourselves. We may not get it perfectly right, and the next generation may not get it perfectly right, and 40 generations may not get it perfectly right, but one day we can and I hope that we will erase the damage that concepts and that religion and that ideas have done to this planet and this race of beautiful animals called humans.

Because this way of living is going to end at some point. Either with us using these powerful, beautiful minds to come together and to become one with the earth and with one another and with this environment that is truly ours, and to forget about the concepts of what lies up in the stars in “Heaven,” but connect with what we fear, “hell,” that truth which lies deep within the earth, we can find love and peace again. And if we choose not to do this, then we’re all going to kill each other with weapons and violence and reduce this race to nearly nothingness, and it’s all going to start over again, and the millions of years we’ve been evolving will not have taught us anything and we will not have reached the animal loving state, and the next humans will go through all that we’ve gone through and it will take them a long time to find that path to love, and we shouldn’t waste what we have now.


Love is essentially the life force. It’s the word we’ve come to use for it. It should not be confused with affection, love is the life force. We feel the life force, and we have called the feelings that fill us love, but no, love is the life force. We are still connected to it as we have always been. Love can make us free. Love can bring us truly forth, love can summon us from hiding, love can live in us, and all can be true, and real, and worthy, and true.

We can be, as we have always had the choice and the ability and the love inside of us to be, alive.

It’s sad that we’re born in love and we spend the many years we have becoming more stressed, falling further away from that love, desperately crying for it, but never loving ourselves, never reaching inside and finding that pure, original love, and leaving this world the way we came in: love. We are love. We are born in love. We must move on in love. It is the life force. We must come closer to it, reach it and be love, because we are love.