Unlike some people, I never "became" an atheist. I was born without religion, raised without religion, and it wasn't until I was older that I had a word for it. I had a very "live and let live" attitude towards religion, though I was frustrated with attempts to quash science in its name. That persisted even when close family members of mine became more religious and concerned with the alleged fate of my soul. I've found it at once interesting and disturbing that I've become more militant in my views as time goes on.

Atheists, according to Mollie Ziegler Hemingway of the Wall Street Journal, are no more rational than theists. In fact, they are a mite more superstitious, or so she says in a recent article titled “Look Who’s Irrational Now.” Apparently, 8% of those “who attended a house of worship” claimed belief in palm readings, astrology, and undead visitations, compared to a staggering 31% of the unchurched, including “avowed atheists.” Even more stunning is the fact that quite a few of these so-called atheists pray or proclaim belief in a personal God.

An article in the New Zealand Herald reports of a school, Ponce de Leon High School in Florida, whose principal engaged in a "witch hunt" against homosexual and lesbian students. The incident was initiated when a lesbian girl complained to the principal of harassment based upon her sexuality. His response was, in the words of the New Zealand Herald, "[to tell] her homosexuality is wrong,[to out] her to her parents and [to order] her to stay away from children."

I've been lucky to meet few people who felt that scientific knowledge sucked the wonder out of the world, but I hear they are common. I have a hard time understanding that point of view. When I see the crescent moon in the night sky I imagine us in the context of the universe: the planets around the sun, the moon around the Earth, the stars and galaxies beyond. When I walk through a forest, with the knowledge that everything I see is the product of billions of years of evolution, I see a tapestry of immense depth and history.

One thing that's been annoying me recently are the prolific advertisements on the web for Mark Mathis and Ben Stein's upcoming movie, Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed. Needless to say, I haven't seen it, nor do I know if I want to see it, given that it is in essence a creationist propaganda film that one reviewer (to whom I haven't linked) said would "make Goebbels proud."

I am an atheist. I will likely always be an atheist. There is very little that would convince me of the existence of a literal, personal god that created the universe, and that said god is Yahweh, Allah, Zeus, or Indra. Yet, I realized today that I am not entirely nonreligious.

During Easter rites in Rome, Pope Benedict publicly baptized journalist Magdi Allam. Magdi Allam is a convert from Islam who, according to the Times, had previously denounced his previous religion as "an ideology which legitimises lies and dissimulation, violent death, which induces both murder and suicide, and blind submission to tyranny." Now he claims to be glad to have found "the authentic religion of Truth, Life and Liberty."

I've heard of A.J. Jacob's The Year of Living Biblically: One Man's Humble Quest to Follow the Bible as Literally as Possible, in which the author decides to follow the Bible (Old and New Testaments) as literally as possible. Every rule he attempts to follow to the letter, even the obscure ones, excepting where it would come into conflict with the law.

Though I've heard that for many of a religious persuasion fear of hell is an overriding influence on their lives, I don't know if I've ever believed it to be very prevalent. In the secular world I've inhabited for most my life, the issue of heaven and hell have almost never arisen, save in the ramblings of recently religious relatives of mine. Upon reading the works of Ayaan Hirsi Ali, it has become clear to me that a significant number of Muslims in the West still live in fear of hell, and many continue to live in the trap their tradition weaves for them out of that fear.

I recall hearing a talk back in 1999 during a public speaking and debate class that bemoaned the materialism of the modern world. I wish I could recall the speech in its entirety, but unfortunately my memory only retains pieces of the argument. What I do recall are repeated references to Mother Teresa, praising her life of poverty, charity and renouncement of material comforts. Now, we didn't have to give away all our things and live in a one-room shack with nothing but the clothes on our back, the speaker assured us, but we ought to reconsider how much wealth and posessions mean to us.