Visiting Mom, Poetry and Song

Tonight, I visited my mother who is in the hospital for advanced diverticulitus. She was noticibly weak as I got my first glance at her in her hospital room. Mom is hoping to have surgery soon to take out a section of her intestine, but she has to have IV fluids in order to be strong enough for the surgery. My father and I had an excellent talk as we let Mom rest for a bit and let the nurse do some things for her. He told me about how is optimistic and trying to stay optimistic for Mom. I told Dad about how tough it was to see Uncle Charlie go downhill after his health problems, which started about a year ago. Charlie died just ten days before Christmas of 2007. I shared that my fears were that Mom's sickness reminds me of Charlie's slow decline. My rational thoughts, however, tell me that smart doctors are working as hard as they can to figure this out so that my 77 year-old mother will get better. I told my Dad that we really don't know the kind of pain she is going through.

I was able to tell Mom I loved her very much and that I would see her soon. She asked me about whether we were going to the wedding up north this weekend, and I said yes. She said she hoped we would have a good time. (My wife's best friend's daughter from a small town in northern Wisconsin is getting married.) My Mom's tone turned more serious as she related that she felt she was "in bad shape," and I tried to reassure her that we were all confident that things would improve. I told her we were thinking about her and that Debbie, Stephen and Ryan say, "Hi."

I told Dad that I admired his extreme efforts to keep Mom's hopes as high as they realistically can be. He is tired but hopeful. I told Dad that I admired his courage and my mother's courage. I also told my father that singing is helpful therapy during these difficult times. One song I play on a regular basis is about being caught in a storm. Just think of the movie "Castaway" with Tom Hanks.


BLUE DIVIDE by Richard Shindell

Once I tried to row
‘Cause you know I hate to fly
so I set out from the coast
But got battered by the tide
As I glided back to shore
I raised an angry oar
And cursed that blue divide

As if it weren’t enough
To still be stranded on the wrong side
I landed in the surf
When a breaker hit my blind side
And when my clothes had dried
I hung my head and cried
Beside that blue divide

Because all that time I thought
That you and I were lost
A toss long fallen wide
In that blue divide
That endless blue divide

So I climbed up on a dune
And found Marconi with his radio
He was looking kind of blue
His antenna rusted long ago
Sitting on the cliff
We shared a handkerchief
Above that blue divide

I waved it in the hope
That you owned a telescope
That could pierce that blue divide

I thought I was marooned
Til I caught sight of your balloon
Rising with the moon
Across that blue divide
That endless blue divide


Good luck Mom as you battle your own personal storm. We all hope you will see good weather very soon. We all admire your strength!

Poetry in Song and Elsewhere

Have you ever heard a song and was mesmorized from the first moment you heard it? Yes, I have mentioned Patty Griffin on previous blog entries. Griffin is capable of the most hauntingly beautiful melodies. The lyrics are poignant and the music is more poignant.

"Someone Else's Tomorrow"

by Patty Griffin

Have you ever been baptized in the cool winter water

On a Sunday morning when the sky was gray?

You filed out of the churchyard, so cold it was silver

To gold, tan, and blue cars, and the cars drove away

All the memories fade, send the ghosts on their way

Tell them they've had their day, it's someone else's tomorrow

The tall and the tiny ships on the water

Farther and farther, floating away

Will never return now, all wooden and burned out

They echo and groan now in their salty graves

All the memories fade, send the the ghosts on their way

Tell them they've had their day, it's someone else's tomorrow

Someone else's tomorrow

Speaking of poetry, some of the most wonderful stuff can be found at http://www.writersalmanac.publicradio.org/

"ONCE IN THE FORTIES"

by William Stafford

We were alone one night on a longroad in Montana.

This was in winter, a big ight, far to the stars.

We had hitched,my wife and I, and left our ride ata crossing to go on.

Tired and cold-but brave we trudged along.

This, we said,was our life, watched over, allowed to go where we wanted.

We said we'd come back some time when we got rich,

We'd leave the others and find night like this, whatever we had to give,

and no matter how far, to be so happy again.

Just one of the gems of poetry read by Garrison Keillor. Thanks Garrison for adding infinite meaning to my life.

The Always Interesting Sam Harris

About Sam Harris:

Best-selling author of Letter to a Christian Nation “On Faith” panelist Sam Harris is the author of the best-selling books Letter to a Christian Nation (2006) and The End of Faith (2005), which won the 2005 PEN Award for Nonfiction and has been translated into many foreign languages. Harris is a graduate in philosophy from Stanford University, has studied both Eastern and Western religious traditions, and is now completing a doctorate in neuroscience. He makes regular appearances on television and radio to discuss the danger that religion now poses to modern societies. His essays have appeared in Newsweek, The Los Angeles Times, The Times of London and The Boston Globe.

The Boundaries of Belief

by Sam Harris

According to a recent Pew survey, 21 percent of atheists in the United States believe in “God or a universal spirit,” and 8 percent are “absolutely certain” that such a Being exists. One wonders if they were also “absolutely certain” they understood the meaning of the term “atheist.” Claiming to be an atheist who believes in God is like claiming to be a happily married bachelor. Rarely does one discover nonsense in such a pristine state. Still this hasn’t stopped many people from concluding that there is a schism in the atheist community. The inclusion of a “universal spirit” might have muddied things for some of these putative atheists, but this would not account for the 6 percent of them who rejected such a spirit in favor of a “personal God.” Granted, it is not clear what the phrase “personal God” might mean to men and women who have wandered so far from the plain meaning of words, but we can only assume that they believe in a God of the sort that 71% of Americans worship: a deity who can hear earnest and blameless prayers—as for the remission of childhood cancer—and fail to answer them, while granting those of far lesser gravity nearly every day (I rely upon the reader to insert here the most mortifying expression of religious awe ever uttered at the Grammy Awards).
Open the newspaper tomorrow morning, or any morning thereafter, and reflect upon the fact that half of your neighbors (51%) are “absolutely certain” that a “personal God” presides over all this casual destruction. The incongruity and moral carelessness of such certainty is reason enough to keep atheists (the real ones) awake at the ramparts until a proper war of ideas can be finally waged and won.The Pew survey produced a few more anomalies: 3 percent of “atheists” are “absolutely certain” that a personal God exists and believe that the Bible is His “literal” Word; 4 percent attend religious services weekly; 5 percent pray daily; 2 percent receive answers to their prayers “at least once a week,” have witnessed “a divine healing,” and draw their morality straight from scripture. It may well be that some atheists, lacking the requisite fear of hell, find it amusing to maliciously waste a pollster’s time. I think, rather, that these figures are simply what it sounds like to ram against the error bars in this particular survey. Pew’s sample of 35,556 Americans included 515 respondents who identified themselves as “atheists” (1.6 percent). The margin of error for this subgroup appears to be around 5 percent – which clearly makes a hash of many of the above findings. Among 35,556 people, Pew seems to have found 40 especially confused God-fearing men and women who think they are “atheists.” Their mutterings do not offer any special insight into the nature of belief. In search of such insight, we recently conducted a much more detailed poll of atheists and devout Christians through my website. Our sample of respondents was almost the inverse of Pew's: we had 36,781 surveys completed (some respondents completed more than one), mostly by atheists. Rather than accept each persons self-description as an “atheist” or “Christian” at face value, however, we filtered our results by each person’s response to the following two statements:Please indicate your degree of belief in the God of the Bible.1. Disbelieve strongly 2. Disbelieve somewhat 3. Don't Know 4. Believe somewhat 5. Believe stronglyPlease indicate your degree of belief that the Bible is the word of God.1. Disbelieve strongly 2. Disbelieve somewhat 3. Don't Know 4. Believe somewhat 5. Believe stronglyWe then focused on those who responded with a 1 or a 5 to both of these statements. The primary purpose of this poll was not opinion research, in fact. Rather, we were designing stimuli for an experiment that we are now running on atheists and Christians using functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI). The goal of survey was to produce stimuli of two categories – factual and religious – which would behave appropriately once we put members of each group inside our MRI scanner. We needed factual statements that both atheists and Christians would accept with the same order of confidence and religious statements that would divide them more or less diametrically.
In addition to vetting our experimental stimuli, however, we took the opportunity to solicit the opinions of believers and nonbelievers on many psychological and social topics that are not strictly relevant to our neuroimaging work. Many of these results are now available for viewing at http://www.samharris.org/

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Sam Harris is an amazing individual. Using functional imaging to detect differences in the brains of the faithful and non-faithful? I would ask Sam what changes in brain waves, structure or function is he looking for? Does he have any hypotheses or is the study merely exploratory?

Other notes:

I did manage to finish Carl Sagan's "The Varieties of Scientific Experience" on vacation. Felt like Carl's voice was there engaging my intellect point by point. We desperately need more calm and rational voices like Carl's during today's troubled times. I will soon write a lot more about the highlights of this very valuable book!

Musically, I'm currently listening to the 2000 live acoustic recording by Steve Kilbey of The Church. What a totally unique talent. Some lyrics may be seen as dark, but very creative and some interesting spiritual ideas. While surfing the web, I found another interesting artist named Dave Watton. The internet is such a great site for people like me who love music. BTW.....my brother Will first introduced me to The Church over 20 years ago.

The Bucket List, et al.

As you may notice, I have written my personal "Bucket List." Why wait until you have a life threatening condition to write one? I may add from it from time to time if I think of anything else.

Other Notes:

Have been practicing for my live house concert in late August(ten song set). Songs I'm most excited about include: "I Can See Clearly Now," "Ain't No Sunshine," and "Famous Blue Raincoat."

We are going to Wisconsin Dells for vacation for the 4th. Heard they have a pretty good fireworks show. Family members are getting cabin fever. It's the perfect time for this. Thanks to Sam's suggestion, I will be taking Carl Sagan's "The Varieties of Scientific Experience" with me as my read by the pool book.

Good luck to my mother(who is 77) who is going in for surgery Monday for her diverticulitus. They may have to put off the surgery because of the possible presence of c. difficile bacteria, but hope they can get to it as soon as possible. I love you Mom! I visited her yesterday and even though she has cramps and nausea, her spirits are 100-percent intact, and her sense of humor and smile are alive and well. Dad is a wonderful resource for her, helping her out every step along the way. I'll keep you posted on Mom's progress.

Singing About Heaven on Earth

Well, I did it again. I played guitar in church. I WAS able to play "Heavenly Day." That was gratifying. As I played the song I thought of my mother who played piano in church as a young woman. I thought of the time when I said to my Mom when I was four years old, "It's great to be here." And she replied, "Where is that?" I said, "On Earth, Mom. On Earth." "Heavenly Day" is a song about the joy of being on Earth. It is about looking at the trees sway on a sunny day and being thankful for every blissful moment. Times of bliss are sacred in a way because our lives on Earth are so short and the questions so many. What a beautiful experience is life, so fragile, so special. That's what the song means to me. I had a terrible dream that my mother died and I played the song at her funeral/memorial service.

Even though I played " Heavenly Day" for the prelude music I was able to play another song during the service. It's a song that my semi professional guitar playing friend from out east plays in church. "This Little Light of Mine" was fun to share and got a good response. As my friend Mike says, just go out there and do it and you will be craving more. He's right. I've played three songs in church now and it is somewhat addicting. Call it a positive addiction(thanks William Glasser). You may be asking why I even play in church, because I doubt so much of the illogical thinking of religion. I would answer that by saying that I'm playing with my heart not my head. Some would argue the heart is more important.

Other notes.....Thanks Will and Iris for the plug for my blog on your show(#86) this week. The show was very interesting and I urge everyone who reads this blog to check out their ideas. (see Will and Iris on favorite blogs to your right.)

Oh on the theme of the wonderfully awesome summer weather,

The Summer Day
(by Mary Oliver)

Who made the world?

Who made the swan, and the black bear?

Who made the grasshopper?

This grasshopper, I mean—the one who has flung herself out of the grass,the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down—who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.

Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.

Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.

I don't know exactly what a prayer is.

I do know how to pay attention, how to fall downinto the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,which is what I have been doing all day.

Tell me, what else should I have done?

Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?

Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

What do plan to your precious life?

"Church Going" by Philip Larkin

Church Going

Once I am sure there's nothing going on I step inside, letting the door thud shut. Another church: matting, seats, and stone, And little books; sprawlings of flowers, cut For Sunday, brownish now; some brass and stuff Up at the holy end; the small neat organ; And a tense, musty, unignorable silence, Brewed God knows how long. Hatless, I take off My cycle-clips in awkward reverence, Move forward, run my hand around the font. From where I stand, the roof looks almost new- Cleaned or restored? Someone would know: I don't. Mounting the lectern, I peruse a few Hectoring large-scale verses, and pronounce "Here endeth" much more loudly than I'd meant. The echoes snigger briefly. Back at the door I sign the book, donate an Irish sixpence, Reflect the place was not worth stopping for. Yet stop I did: in fact I often do, And always end much at a loss like this, Wondering what to look for; wondering, too, When churches fall completely out of use What we shall turn them into, if we shall keep A few cathedrals chronically on show, Their parchment, plate, and pyx in locked cases, And let the rest rent-free to rain and sheep. Shall we avoid them as unlucky places? Or, after dark, will dubious women come To make their children touch a particular stone; Pick simples for a cancer; or on some Advised night see walking a dead one? Power of some sort or other will go on In games, in riddles, seemingly at random; But superstition, like belief, must die, And what remains when disbelief has gone? Grass, weedy pavement, brambles, buttress, sky, A shape less recognizable each week, A purpose more obscure. I wonder who Will be the last, the very last, to seek This place for what it was; one of the crew That tap and jot and know what rood-lofts were? Some ruin-bibber, randy for antique, Or Christmas-addict, counting on a whiff Of gown-and-bands and organ-pipes and myrrh? Or will he be my representative, Bored, uninformed, knowing the ghostly silt Dispersed, yet tending to this cross of ground Through suburb scrub because it held unspilt So long and equably what since is found Only in separation - marriage, and birth, And death, and thoughts of these - for whom was built This special shell? For, though I've no idea What this accoutred frowsty barn is worth, It pleases me to stand in silence here; A serious house on serious earth it is, In whose blent air all our compulsions meet, Are recognised, and robed as destinies. And that much never can be obsolete, Since someone will forever be surprising A hunger in himself to be more serious, And gravitating with it to this ground, Which, he once heard, was proper to grow wise in, If only that so many dead lie round.

(makes me more curious about the mind of Philip Larkin. He was an athiest but deeply affected by and sensitive to the human emotion surrounding religion.)

Affirmations

I have been reading a book which my brother Will bought me for Christmas last year. Now that the new deck is finished, I can sit out there with my mp3 player(listening to Richard Shindell, Nick Drake, George Winston or Yanni) and give it a thorough read, even highlighting passages with my yellow magic marker.

The book is "Affirmations(Joyful and Creative Exuberance)" by Paul Kurtz. Kurtz is one of the leading thinkers in the new ethical humanist movement. He is a great force behind a publication which I subscribe to called "Free Inquiry."

As I have discussed with my lay minister Tim, I found the most interesting chapter was the one entitled "Eupraxsophy." Kurtz introduces the term as meaning the love of wisdom and the practice of wisdom. In essence it is love in action without having all the God rules applied. He urges people to have the courage to express a deep sense of ethics in the world without having to lean on out of date spirituality. Eupraxsophy insists that ones beliefs should be based upon reason, critical intelligence and wisdom.

Here are some quotes from the "Eupraxsophy" chapter that I like:

"Eupraxsophy seeks to develop a cosmic perspective which is based on the most reliable findings discovered on the frontiers of science. It recognizes that there are gaps in our current knowledge that still need to be investigated. It is keenly aware of human fallibility about what we do and do not know, yet it boldly applies practical scientific wisdom to life."

Utterly brilliant.....let's read on!

"Humanists do not look upward to a heaven for a promise of divine deliverance. They have their feet firmly planted squarely in nature, yet they ahve the fortitude to employ art, science, reason, sympathy, and education to create a better world for themselves and their fellow human beings."

"From the standpoint of the individual, happiness is achieved not by a passive release from the world, but by the pursuit of an active life of adventure and fulfillment. There are so many opportunities for creative enjoyment that every moment can be viewed as precious; all fit together to make a full and exuberant life."

"The theist often has a degraded view of human beings, who, beset with original sin, are incapable of solving life's problems by themselves and need to look outside of the human realm for divine succor. The(ethical) humanist accepts the fact that the human species has imperfections and limitations and that some things encountered in existence may be beyond redress or repair. The secular humanist is unwilling to bow before either the forces of nature or would-be human masters. Rather, he or she expresses the highest heroic virtues or the Prometean Spirit: audacity, nobility and developed moral sensibilities about the needs of others."

The ethical humanist is definitely in touch with "the fierce urgency of now."

Thanks Will for buying me this book. It has helped to change my world view into a more practical and loving and wise one.

Rousseau's Birthday

It's the birthday of author and philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau, born in Geneva, Switzerland (1712), whose work marked the end of the Age of Reason and the beginning of the Age of Romanticism.
He wrote his first important work, Discourse on the Sciences and the Arts (1750), in Paris. It's theme — and, indeed, the theme of all his writing — is that man is good by nature but has been corrupted by society and civilization. He later introduced the central idea of romanticism, that in art the free expression of the creative spirit is more important than adherence to strict rules and formal traditions. In 1762, he published his most famous work, The Social Contract, which opened with the line, "Man is born free, and he is everywhere in chains." He also coined the phrase, "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity," which became the battle cry of the French Revolution.

(thanks to the Writers Almanac for the information)

Anti-Planned Parenthood Letter Makes Me Angry

The following letter made me angry when I read it in a local paper. People who oppose abortion like to get on their high horse and ride.

No more funding for Planned Parenthood
Thanks to syndicated columnist Michelle Malkin for her commentary (The Reporter, June 5), titled "Planned Parenthood's Obscene Profits."
She reminded us of the $336,000,000 that Planned Parenthood (PP) receives from the taxpayer through grants and contracts at state and federal levels, 34 percent of its budget.
If the flow of free money were to end, perhaps the local PP office, which provides contraceptives and abortion referrals to its profit-making killing centers in Appleton and Madison, would be forced to close its doors.
Legislation to defund PP has been proposed: The Title X Family Planning Act, S.351. It would amend the Public Health Services Act to prohibit family planning grants to "any entity that performs abortions."
Immediate result of passing this bill? Cut off taxpayer funding, depriving PP of one-third of its budget and forcing closure of a significant part of its abortion operation in order to keep funding for other projects.
American Life League (all.org) and Fidelis (fidelis.org) are committed to keeping the pro-life American taxpayer from being forced to subsidize abortions.
Thomas Jefferson said, "To compel a man to furnish funds for the propagation of ideas which he disbelieves and abhors is sinful and tyrannical."
Now is the time to contact our congressmen in Washington and say, "No more funding for Planned Parenthood."

I will keep the author anonymous so as not to tarnish her reputation. Calling Planned Parenthood "profit making killing centers" misses the entire point, the main idea behind the group as I see it. As I understand it, the organization is built on compassion for other human beings, especially as advocates for women who SHOULD have control of their own bodies. I would point the author of this terse letter to a statement from PP on their website...

Planned Parenthood is committed to protecting and defending women's access to the full range of reproductive health care — including access to abortion. Decisions about childbearing should be made by women, their families, and their doctors — not by politicians.
In order to make an informed decision, women need access to all reproductive health care options and should have the right to seek and obtain safe, legal abortion services without interference from the government.
Despite the health benefits safe, legal abortion offers women, opponents of a woman’s right to choose continue to chip away at abortion access — in the courts, in the U.S. Congress, and in state legislatures.
Freedom of choice is the cornerstone of reproductive rights. Planned Parenthood works in the states, at the federal level, and around the world to protect every woman’s right to make her own decisions about childbearing. If politicians really want to reduce the number of abortions, they should adopt commonsense solutions, such as increased access to affordable contraception and comprehensive, medically accurate sex education.

Our letter writer(let's call her Betsy) shows a mentality(us against them) which is pretty close to people who have enough pent up anger to go out and kill abortion doctors. The ignorance is almost unfathomable. How can we teach these people other more intelligent ways to think about issues like this? How do we teach critical thinking skills to people who simply do not have them??? They truly think they have God on their side. That's sad. They couldn't be farther from the truth.

Take a look at this site:

http://plannedparenthood.org/

Goodbye George Carlin

One of the most facinating comics this world has seen died this week. George Carlin was in his 70's but was full of life until the end. He was vulgar, but he also had this incredible intelligence that had an insatiable desire to try to figure out human behavior. One subject he was baffled about was the concept of faith.

(If you are offended by vulgarity, don't read on.......it's a little crazy but contains some incredible truths that most of us are too afraid to talk about in public. )

George Carlin On Religion
ObjectiveThought.com

When it comes to bullshit, big-time, major league bullshit, you have to stand in awe of the all-time champion of false promises and exaggerated claims, religion. No contest. No contest. Religion. Religion easily has the greatest bullshit story ever told. Think about it. Religion has actually convinced people that there's an invisible man living in the sky who watches everything you do, every minute of every day. And the invisible man has a special list of ten things he does not want you to do. And if you do any of these ten things, he has a special place, full of fire and smoke and burning and torture and anguish, where he will send you to live and suffer and burn and choke and scream and cry forever and ever 'til the end of time!

But He loves you. He loves you, and He needs money! He always needs money! He's all-powerful, all-perfect, all-knowing, and all-wise, somehow just can't handle money! Religion takes in billions of dollars, they pay no taxes, and they always need a little more. Now, you talk about a good bullshit story. Holy Shit!

But I want you to know something, this is sincere, I want you to know, when it comes to believing in God, I really tried. I really, really tried. I tried to believe that there is a God, who created each of us in His own image and likeness, loves us very much, and keeps a close eye on things. I really tried to believe that, but I gotta tell you, the longer you live, the more you look around, the more you realize, something is fucked up.

Something is wrong here. War, disease, death, destruction, hunger, filth, poverty, torture, crime, corruption, and the Ice Capades. Something is definitely wrong. This is not good work. If this is the best God can do, I am not impressed. Results like these do not belong on the résumé of a Supreme Being. This is the kind of shit you'd expect from an office temp with a bad attitude. And just between you and me, in any decently-run universe, this guy would've been out on his all-powerful ass a long time ago. And by the way, I say "this guy", because I firmly believe, looking at these results, that if there is a God, it has to be a man.

No woman could or would ever fuck things up like this. So, if there is a God, I think most reasonable people might agree that he's at least incompetent, and maybe, just maybe, doesn't give a shit. Doesn't give a shit, which I admire in a person, and which would explain a lot of these bad results.

So rather than be just another mindless religious robot, mindlessly and aimlessly and blindly believing that all of this is in the hands of some spooky incompetent father figure who doesn't give a shit, I decided to look around for something else to worship. Something I could really count on.

And immediately, I thought of the sun. Happened like that. Overnight I became a sun-worshipper. Well, not overnight, you can't see the sun at night. But first thing the next morning, I became a sun-worshipper. Several reasons. First of all, I can see the sun, okay? Unlike some other gods I could mention, I can actually see the sun. I'm big on that. If I can see something, I don't know, it kind of helps the credibility along, you know? So everyday I can see the sun, as it gives me everything I need; heat, light, food, flowers in the park, reflections on the lake, an occasional skin cancer, but hey. At least there are no crucifixions, and we're not setting people on fire simply because they don't agree with us.

Sun worship is fairly simple. There's no mystery, no miracles, no pageantry, no one asks for money, there are no songs to learn, and we don't have a special building where we all gather once a week to compare clothing. And the best thing about the sun, it never tells me I'm unworthy. Doesn't tell me I'm a bad person who needs to be saved. Hasn't said an unkind word. Treats me fine. So, I worship the sun. But, I don't pray to the sun. Know why? I wouldn't presume on our friendship. It's not polite.

I've often thought people treat God rather rudely, don't you? Asking trillions and trillions of prayers every day. Asking and pleading and begging for favors. Do this, gimme that, I need a new car, I want a better job. And most of this praying takes place on Sunday His day off. It's not nice. And it's no way to treat a friend.

But people do pray, and they pray for a lot of different things, you know, your sister needs an operation on her crotch, your brother was arrested for defecating in a mall. But most of all, you'd really like to fuck that hot little redhead down at the convenience store. You know, the one with the eyepatch and the clubfoot? Can you pray for that? I think you'd have to. And I say, fine. Pray for anything you want. Pray for anything, but what about the Divine Plan?

Remember that? The Divine Plan. Long time ago, God made a Divine Plan. Gave it a lot of thought, decided it was a good plan, put it into practice. And for billions and billions of years, the Divine Plan has been doing just fine. Now, you come along, and pray for something. Well suppose the thing you want isn't in God's Divine Plan? What do you want Him to do? Change His plan? Just for you? Doesn't it seem a little arrogant? It's a Divine Plan. What's the use of being God if every run-down shmuck with a two-dollar prayerbook can come along and fuck up Your Plan?

And here's something else, another problem you might have: Suppose your prayers aren't answered. What do you say? "Well, it's God's will." "Thy Will Be Done." Fine, but if it's God's will, and He's going to do what He wants to anyway, why the fuck bother praying in the first place? Seems like a big waste of time to me! Couldn't you just skip the praying part and go right to His Will? It's all very confusing.

So to get around a lot of this, I decided to worship the sun. But, as I said, I don't pray to the sun. You know who I pray to? Joe Pesci. Two reasons: First of all, I think he's a good actor, okay? To me, that counts. Second, he looks like a guy who can get things done. Joe Pesci doesn't fuck around. In fact, Joe Pesci came through on a couple of things that God was having trouble with.

For years I asked God to do something about my noisy neighbor with the barking dog, Joe Pesci straightened that cocksucker out with one visit. It's amazing what you can accomplish with a simple baseball bat.

So I've been praying to Joe for about a year now. And I noticed something. I noticed that all the prayers I used to offer to God, and all the prayers I now offer to Joe Pesci, are being answered at about the same 50% rate. Half the time I get what I want, half the time I don't. Same as God, 50-50. Same as the four-leaf clover and the horseshoe, the wishing well and the rabbit's foot, same as the Mojo Man, same as the Voodoo Lady who tells you your fortune by squeezing the goat's testicles, it's all the same: 50-50. So just pick your superstition, sit back, make a wish, and enjoy yourself.

And for those of you who look to The Bible for moral lessons and literary qualities, I might suggest a couple of other stories for you. You might want to look at the Three Little Pigs, that's a good one. Has a nice happy ending, I'm sure you'll like that. Then there's Little Red Riding Hood, although it does have that X-rated part where the Big Bad Wolf actually eats the grandmother. Which I didn't care for, by the way. And finally, I've always drawn a great deal of moral comfort from Humpty Dumpty. The part I like the best? "All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty Dumpty back together again." That's because there is no Humpty Dumpty, and there is no God. None, not one, no God, never was.

In fact, I'm gonna put it this way. If there is a God, may he strike this audience dead! See? Nothing happened. Nothing happened? Everybody's okay? All right, tell you what, I'll raise the stakes a little bit. If there is a God, may he strike me dead. See? Nothing happened, oh, wait, I've got a little cramp in my leg. And my balls hurt. Plus, I'm blind. I'm blind, oh, now I'm okay again, must have been Joe Pesci, huh? God Bless Joe Pesci. Thank you all very much. Joe Bless You!

(Copyright 1999 by George Carlin. Printed without permission.)

http://www.objectivethought.com/atheism/carlin.html