Showing posts with label "christianity". Show all posts
Showing posts with label "christianity". Show all posts

Friday, September 23, 2022

On the Subtleties of Attacking and Being Attacked

Let me start by saying that I don't really have time to write this, yet I feel compelled to do it. I'm a little resentful of that. As such (the lack of time, not the resentment), this may be a little sketchy at times. I don't know; I haven't written it yet. I'm just expressing my annoyance.

So... I have been accused of "attacking" "christians," recently. More than once.
On the one hand, I have no issue with the idea of attacking "christians;" however, I don't believe it's an accurate description of what happened. Or the relationship of what happened. No more than I would say it's ever accurate to say that someone being abused "attacked his/her abuser."

But let me step to the side of that for the moment and give a different example:
As I have mentioned before, though not in a while, I have a butt-ton of collectibles, and I have been working on selling them off for a while via eBay. Not a great place to do that, but the best option available (sort of like U-haul (and I may have a post about them coming up, too)). It just so happens that this week I listed a quite expensive card to the site. Not terribly long after listing it, someone messaged me and began haranguing me about my chosen price point, long rambling incohesive messages. Three of them, in fact. I, of course, responded, but I did it in a very cohesive manner, responding to each "point" he made by number. Then he accused me of attacking him.

Basically, because I used actual sentences, addressed each of his issues separately, and, honestly, because I made sense, he felt threatened. Because I had a smarter, better worded argument. In short, I used facts when what he had come at me with was an emotional response to the fact that he wants my card and can't afford it.

For some reason, facts seem to threaten people and make them feel attacked.

But the dude came into my space and went after me. He initiated the conflict.
But I "attacked him."

And this is what dealing with "christians" is often like.
You say a thing that is a fact, like:
The United States was not founded as a "christian" nation nor were most of the founding fathers "christians." In fact, the biggest movers among them, the ones everyone thinks of when you start talking "founding fathers," none of them were "christians." They were deists. By definition, they did not believe in the divinity of Jesus. He was just some dude with delusions of grandeur, which is true. In fact, many of the founding fathers frequently criticized "christianity." As Thomas Paine did with the following quote:

The study of theology, as it stands in Christian churches, is the study of nothing.; it is founded on nothing; it rests on no principles; it proceeds by no authorities; it has no data; it can demonstrate nothing; and admits of no conclusion.

For posting that, I was accused of "attacking 'christians.'"

Was I making a point? Yes.
Did I go into anyone else's space to make that point? No. 
I made the point in -my- space, on my "wall."
So did I "attack" anyone? Or any peoples? No.
Did I clearly state an actual fact? Group of facts, actually. Yes.
If someone else reads that fact and feels threatened by a fact, is that my fault? No, not really.

There's really two things going on here:
The first is that if someone is coming into your space and initiating something, you're not the one doing the attacking. 
Wait! Here's how to think of it:
You ever get punched on the playground as a kid and hit the other kid back and have them go tell on you for hitting them? Yeah, it's that. 
Don't come in my space and accuse me of attacking you because of something I am doing in my space. 

But here is the bigger issue, at least for me:
"christians" don't get to complain, ever, about being attacked. Not in this day and age, anyway. You can follow the Republican, i.e. "christian," shenanigans all the way back to Newt Gingrich, who is really the one who started all of the current shit we have going on in our politics, and how he, for lack of a better way of putting it, weaponized "christians" and turned them into nothing more than a political bat for the republicans. So for the last 30-40 years, "christians" have been on the attack against the rest of society. When someone fights back (confronts them with their lies and delusions), they don't get to suddenly cry out, "oh! oh! You're attacking me!"

And you also don't get to use the "good people" argument about how it's not all "christians." Republicans have revealed themselves to be evil and fascist, and the vast VAST majority of "christians" are republicans and support republicans. That makes them complicit and responsible. If you don't want to be judged by those standards, don't be a part of that group. Don't vote for republicans, and don't fucking be a "christian." Because not one of them is a Christian. [And just shut the fuck up with your "judge not lest you be judged" bullshit -- I'm just applying the objective criteria for what the term means; it's not my fault if you don't meet it.]

So am I "attacking" "christians"? Well, I don't think so. Maybe counterattacking, but it's more like a defensive maneuver. But, yeah, sure, I am gonna keep calling out the bullshit and lies and delusions that "christians" cling to. Someone needs to do it.
And, honestly, at this point, someone does need to wage a little war back against "christians." The organized church is evil. Pure and simple. I don't know that organized religion can resist without becoming evil. What else can you expect from something founded on the belief of lies and fairy tales.
Anyway...
I've gotten off topic.

I think liberals have been too fast to apologize and try to make nice when they have been accused of "attacking" others. Which is what we do because, mostly, we believe people should be allowed to live their lives as they see fit, and liberals have empathy whereas conservatives tend to... well, just not have any. Empathy. So we try to make it better. 
But I encourage you to look at the bigger picture any time this accusation gets tossed around. Whose space did it happen in? Was anyone targeted? Where did the aggression begin?

I guess that's all I have to say about this at the moment. Normally, I would take a week or so on a piece like this so that I could go back over it and make sure I had everything in order and didn't ramble too much. But I wrote this yesterday. You're getting it pretty raw.

And by the way, the Thomas Paine quote is from his "The Age of Reason." Because it was also implied that I just made it up so that I could support my thesis about the founding fathers. Nope, didn't make it up. I do think I need to read the whole pamphlet, though. Who knows what other quotable quotes are in  there?

Also
#fuckrepublicans

Monday, February 8, 2021

Promising Young Woman (a movie review post)

 

I think it's not unreasonable to suggest that the greatness of a movie can be judged by how long it lingers in your mind after you've watched it. How much time you spend ruminating over what you watched and, possibly, what it means. Unless you're talking about Christopher Nolan. No one should spend any time thinking about his movies after the fact, especially Inception. When the man admits that the movie ends ambiguously because he couldn't make a decision about how to end it, it doesn't deserve any thought. That's just sloppy bad writing.

However, with other movies, how much time you spend thinking about them is a totally valid measure of how good they may be. Promising Young Woman hung around in my mind pretty steadily for days. Not in a way that would probably make you want to watch it again, because I'm pretty sure it's not a movie I really want to watch again, though that might not be true. It's that kind of movie.

I'm betting you want to know what kinds of thoughts I was having, but I'm not going to tell you because there's not really a way to do that without being spoilery. I am going to say, though, that this is currently my pick for Best Picture this year. It's a powerful movie and deals with a powerful subject. If you're a man watching this and not uncomfortable, minimally, doing so, there is something wrong with you. And you're probably part of the problem. If you're angry about the movie, you are definitely part of the problem.

And if you make comments about how Carey Mulligan is not pretty enough to be believable as a rape victim, you are more than definitely part of the problem and you don't know how rape works.

Don't be part of the problem.

Speaking of Carey Mulligan, she's fantastic. She more than adequately carries the movie, which is significant, because the whole plot rests on her and her believability. She gives the role a nuance that still has me wondering about some things here and there, which is why I possibly might would watch it again just to see what I thought after a second viewing. But it's a hard movie to watch, especially the ending.

Emerald Fennell, the writer/director, probably also deserves the Best Original Screenplay Oscar. It's very difficult to have a powerful movie without a powerful script, and this one is powerful. Not to mention the creeping dread the movie causes as you hope what's going to happen isn't what's going to happen. You don't find people who can create that kind of feeling very often.

I think this is a must-watch movie, especially if you're a white male. Or just white. Women participate in rape culture, too, because, well, just gonna say it: Patriarchy and "christianity." Get rid of those two things and rape culture would probably just go away.

Monday, January 25, 2021

Fear Tactics: The Root of Religious Trauma

 

My first real memory of church is of being scared to death. Or being made to be scared to die. However you want to say that.

Actually, my first memory of church is of having the car break down on the way there. I was probably four or so, and we were going to some church way out on the edge of town, and we broke down on the highway. The next time we went to church was at this tiny little Southern Baptist church a few blocks from our house. We didn't drive; we walked. I think I was five. Not older than that, for sure, but I don't think I could have been younger unless I'm misremembering which house we walked from, not that that is important other than establishing the age.

This church was so small it didn't have any kind of childcare for during the service, so I was in "grown up" church. I was probably wearing my suit, because my mom believed at the time that you should always wear your very best to church. I had this little, light blue suit that I absolutely hated. Writing this, now, I'm wondering if it was maybe even Easter or something and that's why we were there. It's not like we went much to church when I was a kid. At least, not yet.

Now, I'm not going to try to pretend that I remember what the sermon was about. I have no clue. What I do remember, though, is that there was some hellfire and damnation in it, because I left that service deathly afraid that I was going to die and go to Hell. Seriously afraid. So afraid that I had nightmares for years of being chased by the devil... He was in a rollercoaster, by the way. I was running on my legs, and he was behind me in a rollercoaster chasing me so that he could catch me and drag me away to burn forever in a pit of darkness. That was the sermon that started my obsession with bedtime prayers, as if praying "now I lay me down to sleep" was somehow going to keep me safe through the night and keep the devil from getting me.

I was five.

I was traumatized. Not that I knew that. I mean, I was five! I can still remember that fear in my chest when I think about it. The terror of going to Hell.

I would like to say that what happened to me was an accident. That I wasn't supposed to be in that service and that that message wasn't meant for me. I would like to say that it was "parental error" due to the fact that we hadn't been to that church before. But it wasn't. There were no childcare services offered. Children were supposed to be there, and I'm sure I was not the only kid in that service.

And it wasn't just that church. The putting the fear of Hell and Satan into kids so that they will want to convert is standard operating procedure for fundamentalists. They teach it as part of their fucking preaching programs. "Get 'em while they're young" and all of that.

Unfortunately, there's not a lot of raw data out there about religious trauma, but I spent a lot of years working in the church-industrial complex, and I can tell you that of people I have known who were childhood converts that the vast majority have said that their reason for becoming a "christian" was because they didn't want to go to Hell.

That's just sad.

Let's look at this another way for a moment:
"christianity" is supposed to be about love, so much so that Paul says that non-"christians" will be able to tell who the "christians" are by their... love. So the religion that is supposed to be, above all else, about love instead uses fear to drive conversions. The vast majority of people claiming "christianity" converted during childhood. That point was driven into us over and over again. Seriously, "Get 'em while they're young." And the way to do that is to make them afraid of the consequences.

Ironically, it's those heathen liberals who tend to appeal to love and fellowship and building people up. If you're going by Paul and looking for love in the world as identifiers for "christianity," you're not going to find that in "the church." You're going to find it with the liberals. "christians" are most certainly not known for their love.

To get back to the point, though: The vast majority of "christians" became "christians" because of a traumatic fear experience as a child, at least those in the USA. Maybe it didn't cause nightmares for everyone, but, when you feel the need to let some strange man, even if he is your pastor, dip you backwards into a pool of water to keep you from going to Hell, there is something wrong. Especially considering that Hell is make-believe, anyway. You may as well tell kids that Santa won't bring them any toys... oh, wait...

All of which is compounded because "we" want kids to believe that God/Jesus loves them and, yet, God/Jesus is also going to throw them away into Hell for all eternity for being bad. And, even after you're "saved," there is some unknown unforgiveable sin that'll get you sent straight to Hell no matter how good you've been, so you have to be the fucking best all the time, because you don't know when "god" might pop out and say "Ha ha!" and toss you in the pit.

This trauma is so deep and so pervassive that there may not be a way to heal it from those who have been affected. I'm 50 years old, and I can still have moments of fear and second guessing before I remember to engage the very rational part of my brain and talk myself out of it. I'm not convinced that most people have a very rational part of their brains or, if they do, it has never been used enough to be worthwhile. Possibly, the only thing we can do is to start trying to prevent this trauma from being visited upon future generations of children. And it's time that we start doing that.
Somehow.

Friday, January 22, 2021

Trauma Nation (part two)

I'm not going to try to get into the science of all of this. Seriously, it's just too much. Too much picking apart of every piece of information I want to talk about, and too much data to try to introduce in any kind of concise way, and I want to do this in one post, not 40.

The thing about trauma is that you don't always know you're suffering it. This is especially true if the trauma has been caused by a series of small incidents built up over time rather than one large trauma event. It's even more true if the form of abuse has been institutionalized so that the people around you are telling you that it's not really abuse.

So you don't like the way the old geezer in your church is always touching you? Putting his hands on your shoulders or, maybe even, patting you on the ass? "Oh, don't worry about him. He's harmless. He does that to everyone." Eventually, you do quit worrying about it because you get numbed to it, and who are you going to tell, anyway? Once your parents have dismissed the inappropriate contact as harmless, and your church leaders have as well, and your friends are all putting up with it, what are you supposed to do? Who do you tell? These are the people you trust, so you learn to ignore it no matter how it makes you feel.

When the message from the church is that women should keep their mouths shut and shouldn't be in leadership and it must be true because the Bible says so (and the Bible is NEVER wrong), who do you turn to? No one. You learn to keep your mouth shut because, if you don't, you face disapproval from everyone.

You wonder why your whole congregation is white, and the message that you get from the people you have grown up with and have learned to trust and who are your family is that White People are the chosen People-of-God and will be the ones to inherit God's Kingdom, you accept it and, without realizing it, you look down on black people and any other minority, especially Jews, because Jews were the Chosen People, but they spit on God and killed his Son, and the Bible says that they deserve all the punishment of the world for the rest of time.

But most fundamentally, you are a worthless piece of shit. You are a piece of shit who is destined for Hell where all of the pieces of shit go. This particular message is pervavise; after all, it is how the church survives. It needs to convince you of your shittiness before it can offer you the only chance you have of escaping Hell: Jesus (and $20 in the offering plate). This is the root of the trauma we face as a nation, the buy-in of "christians" that we are all pieces of shit and deserve to burn for it.

Of course, "christians" have their "get out of Hell free" card, but that doesn't change the fact that, at their core, they have bought into the idea that they are worthless pieces of shit. Only "Jesus in their hearts" makes them valuable at all. And, since they are worthless pieces of shit, everyone else, all of us heathen liberals and minorities and gays, are even more worthless pieces of shit.

I know how this works, because I grew up in this, with this belief that people are worthless and that it's only through "the precious blood of Jesus" that anyone has any value. Everyone else is just going to get heaped on the fire, so you need to save everyone you can. The problem is that it becomes so ingrained, this notion that people are worthless, that you can't separate it from your actual feelings and thoughts.

I grew up with this idea that the inherent state of people is one of depravity. I'm just going to say that middle school and high school may not be the best places to learn that that might not be true. By the time I was in college, my whole world view stemmed from this place of people starting in the negative position and not even being able to get to neutral without some kind of divine help, not even the very best of people.

Was this view mine? Or was it just ground into me at church? How do I separate out from that what my own views even are? Because, now, I know that people are just people. They may not be inherently good, but they certainly aren't inherently evil, even if people do tend toward being selfserving. I know this in my head, but I can't just pick out of myself the feelings around all of this. It means that I have to always be on guard against my own emotional reactions to things, because they may not be my emotional reactions, just the reactions implanted in me by the fucking church.

This is trauma. And, for at least some portion of my life, I visited this trauma upon other people by allowing my reactions to them be ones of suspicion and distrust or mere avoidance. During high school, I enmeshed myself with my church and my youth group and forsook, basically, all of my other social connections. Staying in your church group and not socializing outside of it is part of the paradigm. And you can't see or feel your own trauma while you're stuck inside of all of this.

This is the state of being for a significant portion of the US poplation, right now. They are living in the trauma that the church has buried them under and have no idea of what their own thoughts or feelings might be, because they have never known any other thoughts and feelings than those the church has given them. And, so, they visit this trauma on those around them because they don't know any other way.

Trauma Nation, it's what we are.
And we can't begin to heal the trauma until we can break the hold that the church has over the nation; specifically, the hold it has over the politics of the nation. This was never supposed to be the state of things in the US. The framers of the Constitution came from a country where religion cohabitated with government, and they knew how dangerous it was. It's time for us to, to co-opt the phrase of another moment, defund "the church." "christians" already think we are at war with them, just for wanting to live our lives in peace without them moralizing to us, but I think it's time for a real war against "the church," one in which we take an active stance and depowering the church and deprogramming the cultish thinking they're living with.

Because, make no mistake, "christianity" is, indeed, a cult. It is a cult that is bent on bringing about the end of the world (I'm not exaggerating, but I'll get to that in a later post) so, if we want a future, we have to start taking an active stance against "the church" and religion in politics. It's time to work on healing the trauma.

Monday, January 18, 2021

Trauma Nation (part one)

Back during my college days, I had a friend who was a "philosopher." Who didn't, right? He was, of course, a philosophy major and fancied himself the "last true philosopher." Because no one can be more pompous than a philosophy major. Unless it's Rudy Giuliani. One of my other friends used to say that "The Philosopher" was just shy of being an oxygen thief.

On the one hand, having The Philosopher around often prompted interesting discussions. The Philosopher was, of course, agnostic, because one cannot be a true philosopher and have an actual answer to anything. Not even to your own existence, because, well, who knows, right?

One night, one of these "interesting" conversations led to the The Philosopher declaring that the church had been the greatest force for good throughout history, which prompted the rest of us to... stare. And stare hard. So hard that, eventually, he was all like, "What...?"

Let me make a thing clear, here:
In this group was, of course, me who, at the time, was deep in Christianity. I was a fucking youth pastor, so I was a True Believer and stuck in the ways of converting all of my friends all the time (there were many late night conversations with The Philosopher about his lack of faith).
An atheist.
A Catholic, who loved being Catholic because he could go to church twice a year, do confession, and be considered an excellent Catholic. He also supported bombing abortion clinics because that's what the Catholic church suggested was appropriate without actually saying it (much the way Trump #failedpresident urges his followers to violence).
A couple of Cultural Christians. You know, those people (MOST "christians") whose parents took them to church when they were kids, maybe they got baptised, and who, maybe, go to church every few years for whatever reason and drop $20 in the offering plate, and think they're good. You know, "Once saved, always saved," and all of that. Or they have young kids whom they want indoctrinated the same way they have been.

All of that to say that the statement that the church had been a force for good would have been expected from any of the rest of  us (probably, especially, me (or the Catholic)) other than Atheist.

Ironically, I responded first: What about the Crusades?
[You do know about those, right? When the Catholic church went on a Holy War against Muslims and Jews to take the Holy Land away from the heathens and "return" it to Christians, where it belonged. Except it was really all about a land grab the Catholic church wanted to do because any lands belonging to any of the knights they sent to the Holy Land became the property of the church when they died. Plus loot. Plus weeding out the European nobility. It was a big win/win/win for the church no matter what happened in Jerusalem.]

Then Atheist: And the Holocaust.
[Look, if you don't know about the Holocaust, you have serious educational issues. And if you're a Holocaust denier, you have serious personality issues, starting with extreme racism.]

Then everyone (everyone!) else started naming other evil things "the church" had done over the course of history (Spanish Inquisition, anyway? what about some witch trials?), a conversation which spread out to include religion in general and how, really, religion had been the greatest force for evil and harm throughout history. Because it has. Almost all of the great atrocities in history have been done in the name of some religion or another.

The Philosopher was completely caught off guard and, actually, had to admit that his statement had been foolish. He was, he said, thinking about people like Mother Teresa, individuals who had, because of their faith, done some amount of good in the world. And, yes, it's true that there have been individuals who have, because of their faith, done some good in the world, but it doesn't come anywhere close to balancing the scales against the evil done in the name of "God."

And we haven't even gotten to the individual people who use their "faith" as a reason to inflict abuse upon people who don't believe the same way they do or who do it as way to maintain control over someone else, frequently children and spouses.
-- Like the parents of one of my teenagers when he came out. Oh, if you could have heard the vile things they said about him. Before disowning him.
--Like the Catholic parents who disowned their teen for becoming Protestant, kicking her out of the house with nowhere to go.

Well, I was going to give many examples, but what's the point? They are all over the news all of the time for anyone who wants to see it.

In fact, the huge schism we are suffering as a nation is due to religion and the desire of "christians" to inflict abuse upon people who don't believe the same way they do. Having grown up in that, I have firsthand experience with the "repent or die" attitude that Republicans have about liberals. And, well, they know we're not going to repent, so it's time for us all to die. They've had just about enough of allowing other people to go about their lives and live them they way they see fit. It is, for some reason, very onerous to them, the knowledge that other people might be living "outside of the will of god," whatever that even means. And, especially, the thought that two men might be off having sex together somewhere drives "good christian men" crazy.

Basically, we are, as a nation, suffering from religious abuse and have been for... well, probably since the First Great Awakening but assuredly since the Fourth. I would say since the First, but the abuse changed in tone during the Fourth, switching from what I would call a personal abuse model preached and taught by the church for more than 200 years (beginning in the early 1700s) then switching to a more institutional model of abuse beginning in the 1960s. As with all abuse, the result is trauma. We are a nation being torn apart by religious trauma.

Monday, November 9, 2020

The Temptation To Say "It's Over"

 When I say, "we won," I say it with the expectation that I don't have a whole heck of a lot of conservative followers anymore so...

"We won."

I imagine many of you are wondering why that's not all in caps or with a butt-ton of exclamation points or whatever, but I feel the simple period says it best. That's probably because the natural extension of that thought right now is, "It's over."

"We won. It's over."

Except that it's not. Over, that is. It's really just beginning. Which is... exhausting. Because it's been an incredible battle to get to where we are right now at this moment, and where we are is that roughly 20% of the country turned out to vote for a racist fascist with the hopes of keeping him in power. And, possibly as bad as that, around 1/3 of the country couldn't be bothered to show up to vote one way or the other.

Let's see... "Hey, there's a wannabe dictator running for President of your country, would you like to go vote for the other guy?" "Nah, I can't be bothered with that."

Which is to say that more than half of the citizens of the United States are, minimally, perfectly fine with the downfall of democracy in the US.

Anyway...

What we have to look forward to, now, is that over the next couple of months Trump (#formerfakepresident) will be out trying to whip his drones into a frenzy about how the election was stolen from him with the hopes that they will do something, anything, to keep him in power. I guess we'll see how that plays out. Violence is my guess, but I hope I'm wrong.

And that's not even the real fight.
The real fight is that Darth Mitch still holds the Senate in his purple-inflamed fist and is already vowing to, well, keep doing what he's been doing, blocking everything that doesn't support his agenda to subvert the judicial system into a racist conservative perversion that only supports rich white people. The real fight is in, initially, trying to repair all of the damage done by the petulant toddler who's been inhabiting the White House for the last four years.

The really real fight is going to be trying to restore the environment and people still, largely, are not being aware of how critical this is and that, in many ways, maybe most ways, the damage has been done and can't be fixed; all we can do is try to lessen the effects of what's coming.
--For fuck's sake people, an iceberg the size of the state of Delaware has just decided to begin roaming the Atlantic and is expected to bring catastrophe to an environmentally-important species-diverse island.

So, while it would be great to sit back and relax and hold onto the thought of "it's over" as if it's a steaming cup of coffee on a chill morning and it feels oh-so-good on your cold fingers, it's not time for that yet. The real fight is still ahead. The fight to get Biden into office was the fight to get us into the real fight. The fight for the environment. The fight against the racist assholes who support #fakepresident. The fight to reform the criminal justice system into something that's fair for everyone, not just those who are white and/or rich. The fight against ignorance, stupidity, and intolerance.

The fight against "christianity" and the destructive forces of religion in our country. But more on that later.

I guess what I'm saying is this:
Take a breath if you need to. Go dance in the streets some more and ring some more bells (thank you Paris and Berlin, in particular). Be happy in this victory.
But do not think "It's over; we won," because this was just a skirmish, and, really, we barely won it, this which really should have been a no-brainer of a victory. Taking the Senate should have been an easy job, and we're still waiting to see what happens there. We lost seats in the House for no good reason other than the fact that Democrats are horrible at down-ballot voting. Democrats and liberals are not fully invested in what's going on; Republicans and conservatives are. They are bringing this fight as hard as they can and have been doing so for decades.

So dig in. It's not over.

Monday, December 30, 2019

Some Sunshine

I haven't done one of these blogger award things in a long time, and I'm not exactly doing it now, BUT!

My friend, Squid, has gifted me with the Sunshine Blogger Award and wants me to answer some questions. So, you know, I'm going to answer some questions.
I don't know, it could be fun, right?!

So let's just jump into the questions:

1. If you could live one year of your life over again, which year would you choose and why?
Wow! What a way to start! I've actually been thinking about how to answer this question for two days, and I don't know that I'm any closer to an answer. The problem, of course, is that it's a time travel question and how do you know what the results will be if you go back and mess with stuff? And I'm probably over-thinking the whole thing, but, then, I also think Squid knows me well enough by now to know that I would over think it.
I used to also be pretty content with my life and my life choices, but I have had more than a few ideal shifts in the last few years and there are now many things I wish I could change about my past, things I wish I had not wasted time on, like "christianity." It was always a struggle being in "the church," and, I realize now, that that was because I actually believed in the things "the church" only claims to believe in, none of which has to do with the white-washed "Jesus" they hold so dear.
At any rate, none of the things I would change could be encompassed in a single year, so the idea re-living just one year seems a little pointless.
Unless it was 2019. 2019 has been a... difficult year. It feels like it was the year of home disasters for us. Maybe reliving it could be away to deal with some of those things before they became catastrophic.
2. If you could learn to be an expert at something without putting in the work, what would it be?
That's a pretty easy answer for me: drawing. Or whatever you want to call it. It's clear to me now that I had no small amount of skill in this as a child, way beyond my peers, but I was persuaded to believe that drawing and things of that nature were... frivolous. A waste of time. My time was better spent toward math and science, other subjects I was way beyond my peers in, so I quit drawing. I wish I hadn't.
3. If you could learn a new language instantly, which would you choose and why?
Hmm... I don't know? I mean, Spanish would be the most useful, especially out here in California, but I also have no particular desire to learn it.
How about the language of whatever extraterrestrials we discover first.
4. If you could give $1,000,000 to any charity, which would you choose?
So this is going to sound bad but, probably, none. $1,000,000 for most charities these days, at least the big ones, is virtually nothing and most charities spend most of the money they receive on internal bureaucracy. The thing I am most interested in supporting, at the moment, is housing. I believe in free basic housing for all. We shouldn't have a homeless problem in the USA and, yet, it's been getting worse all across the country since 2016. That's an objective statistic, not a political spin. A new report shows that homelessness began a pretty steep rise after Trump (#fakepresident) took office. The political spin on that fact is that the Trump White House is trying to blame that solely on California. While it is true that California has seen the steepest rise (thanks Climate Change!), California is not outsourcing its homeless problem. In fact, the homeless from other states come to California. All of that to say, $1,000,000 toward housing the homeless is less than a drop in the bucket.
5. When was your Robert Frost moment a la "Two roads diverged in a yellow wood..."? The poem (read it here) says you can't go back and that is true. "Way leads on to way" and so forth. But if you could, would you? What is the difference you think it would have made?
This question to me feels a lot like the first one. I don't have a better answer, I don't think. Well, I don't know. There was definitely a moment where I chose to start collecting comic books and, maybe, I would choose to not have done that, despite my love for comic books. I know where that led me: to a garage full of comic books I'm now trying to get rid of. Or, more probably, I would not make the choice I made into "christianity." That way was Fool's Gold, and it took me a long time to realize how false that path was. I definitely wish I had not chosen that route. I'd rather have the garage full of comic books.
6. Time travel: Where would you go and when? Why?
Considering the earlier questions, I'm going to assume this is an observational trip through time. In which case, I'm tempted to say I'd go to the future. No one ever says that for these kinds of questions. Skip getting the lottery numbers: Look ahead and see which companies to invest in. Though that's not my reason. It would be great to know if we even have a world left in 100 years.
But I'm only tempted to say the future. If I could travel back to the years of the "ministry" of Jesus and find out what really happened. Not that it would matter other than for me, because you can put actual facts in front of Conservatives only to have them close their eyes, stick their fingers in their ears, and start singing "la la la la!" I'd like to know, though.
7. Who would you want on your fictional character bowling team? You get to pick four.
Whaaaat? Bowling team? Okay, okay, I get that bowling is not the point of this question, but, still... Bowling team? How would I even know who can bowl? Okay, fine!
Gandalf: I feel like he would always bowl a perfect game. And he's Gandalf.
Anakin Skywalker (Clone Wars era): I feel like he would also always bowl a perfect game. Maybe. Because I also feel like Obi-Wan would try to keep him from doing it even if they were on the same team. Which brings me to...
Obi-Wan Kenobi (Clone Wars era): Because I feel like having Anakin and Obi-Wan would be hella fun to hang out with. Imagine the conversations between Obi-Wan and Gandalf. 
Peter Parker? Thor?: I'm not sure. Either of them could be a fun addition. My team needs a fun addition.
8. What would you want for your last meal?
I don't know if I care that much? If I knew it was my last meal, I probably wouldn't be thinking much about food. I'd have other things I'd rather be doing than eating. But, you know, maybe a really great burger.
9. What's your favorite song?
I don't know how to answer this. Favorite right now? That's totally different from, say, what I think is the best song. I hate favorite as a way to describe things because it's an emotional answer, and it can change. All of that said, I'll go with two:
"The Sound of Silence" -- best song ever written
"I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" -- because it's a good default U2 song to choose even though "Bad" is probably my favorite song by them
10. Are you an introvert or an extrovert?
Is this a trick question? It feels too easy after all of the other ones. Introvert, of course.
11. If you came over to my home and I offered you a drink, what would you want me to serve you?
Actually, anything. Well, okay, something I hadn't tried before, but I think that would be an easy thing for you to do. I wish you lived closer just so we could do cocktail experimentation together.
And that's that. That was pretty fun, though I probably spent way too much time on bits and pieces of this. Especially the bowling question. Of all the questions to cause me angst, that was the one. I even asked me wife if she had ideas, and she had the same response as me: Bowling? Is the objective to win? heh She suggested Bullseye if winning was the goal but, you know, psycho! So a hard no. I don't think he'd be much fun to hang out with, even though I'm sure he'd make sure everyone on your team had perfect games every time.

Considering I'm not really into all that many blogs anymore, I'm not forwarding this to anyone else. The only person I feel like would be interested, anyway, is Squid, and he just sent it to, so... Yeah.

But I do hope you all enjoyed my answers! Maybe it was informative.