Sep 30

What’s in a Flag?

I’ve been noticing a lot of Canadian flags lately. In windows, on lawns, on porches. This is Canada. We aren’t American. So what’s with the flags?

Well, maybe that’s it. It’s to say we aren’t American. Many Canadian tourists wear a Canadian flag on their knapsacks for the same reason American tourists wear a Canadian flag on their knapsacks. But then why not just fly an American flag with the red slash of “No!” through it? Maybe cuz that wouldn’t be very nice. And, well, we’re Canadian. And everyone in the neighbourhood already knows that everyone here is Canadian.

So again, what’s with the flag? Continue reading

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Sep 14

Religion: Superstition and Habit

I find it amazing that so many people still believe in God.  I can only conclude that, in most cases, they just haven’t thought about it.  Because thinking about religion is the surest way to atheism.  (Which is probably why so many religions discourage thought: be like a child–whose intellectual faculties are quite insufficient for the task; trust in me, listen to me, I speak for God–you don’t need to worry your little head about it.)

There are several classic arguments for the existence of God.  But as Bertrand Russell (Why I am Not a Christian), B.C.Johnson (The Atheist Debater’s Handbook), George H. Smith (Atheism: The Case Against God), and so many others have pointed out, their flaws have been, in the last few centuries, uncovered.

Consider the first cause argument: Continue reading

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Aug 25

An Apartheid of Sex

I’m in this world, okay, and the people identify each other by sex.  All the time.  No kidding.  It’s like ‘Female Person Jenkins ‘ and ‘Male Person Ellis’ or ‘Person-with-Uterus Jenkins’ and ‘Person-with-Penis Ellis’, I don’t know the exact translation.  But sex-identity is a mandatory prefix.  They distinguish males from females.  Before they do anything else.

It bothers me.  It irritates me.  It pisses me off.  I mean, what’s so damned special about my sex that it has to be part of my name?  Surely my values, my interests, my abilities, my character – these aspects define my self more than my sex does.

And anyway shouldn’t I be the one to decide what parts of my self are important enough to be part of my name?  Maybe I want to be identified by my uterus, but maybe I want to be identified by my occupation.  Hell, maybe I want to identified by my blood type.

The thing is, they consider it polite.  Polite!  Continue reading

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