Back to My Redneck Roots … Maybe

Those of you who knew me as the Blue Collar Atheist, and who lament this high-falutin’ “Citizen of Earth” business, I may be getting back into the red-necky-blue-collary stuff in the near future.

Currently I drive a van for a drug and alcohol rehab facility. Five days a week, I drive more than 350 miles, round trip between my upstate New York town and New York City, to fetch and return rehab clients.

The work is interesting, sometimes fascinating. I’ve expanded my human horizons in that I’m interfacing with a demographic I’d never really dealt with before.

Oh, boy, have I wanted to write about them. But I haven’t, mainly because they’re humans, not … you know, things. Blog-fodder subjects I can casually deconstruct or joke about. Even at several removes on their identities — not telling you exactly where I’m working, not telling you their names, or any specific personal details — I would still feel uncomfortable relating any of their personal stories.

Mostly, as I’ve discovered, these are normal people with this Problem. Alcohol. Heroin. Crack. Xanax. Stuff I never heard of. And some have additional physical troubles such as a positive HIV status or hepatitis or … could be anything. But still, just people.

I have met a very few — maybe 3 or 4 in my 1.5 years of doing this — I might consider sociopaths, someone for whom the entire universe was created so they could be the center of it. You’d think someone like that would be some big ugly guy, but no, not generally. More often (in my sharply limited experience), they seem to be uber-charming, lovely young women. And I say I only “might” consider them sociopaths, because I carefully hold back on that judgment, fully aware that the field of drug addiction contains vast truths of which I am still pitifully unaware. I can’t begin to understand what drives one might come to have under the merciless lash of addiction.

I suppose I’ve known a few alcoholics in my life, but before this job, I can’t say I’ve ever really known a drug addict.  And even among the supposed alcoholics, I’ve never known one who lost a job or had other serious problems from it. So this is mostly subdimensional physics to me — a parade of people who will always be mysteries, interesting and sometimes sad beings who pass through my day, touching me only very slightly.

One part of the larger therapeutic environment is that bit based on 12-step programs, with liberal amounts of God and Jesus and Higher Powers sprinkled in. Knowing full well that my job is transporting these vulnerable people, with no scrap of it containing any right to meddle in their heads, I have given no hint to either clients or co-workers that I have the convictions you know I hold. And though other clients in the van might casually ask them what their drug(s) of choice are, or which prisons they’ve resided in, that’s stuff I’m careful never to do. Mostly I try to be nice to them, and smooth what is already a stressful day — a stressful life! — with music, a little tour-guiding, a listening ear, and lots of companionable silence for the long drive.

I can feel myself already getting tired of it though. There’s a certain strain in interfacing with addicts for many hours each day, day after day, week after week. And the job certainly doesn’t pay enough, even with benefits, to get me through my life in any halfway comfortable fashion.

So: I’m studying to get my CDL license, and sometime later this year I’ll be out hunting for truck driving jobs. Hopefully long-haul stuff, hookup-and-go loads along the interstates. There are a lot of hoops to jump through before it happens, but I think I’m headed that way.

I have to make a living, and I haven’t been very good at that for several years. I want to be able to pay my bills again, and get some dogs again, and live somewhere out of a city, where said dogs can enjoy some off-leash outdoor time and maybe a nearby creek.

I have several books yet to write, as I think I’ve told you, and I want nothing to get in the way of that. But book-writing for most of us is not a bill-paying enterprise. (You knew about this one, right? Hint, hint.)

Even if I break new ground in my book about dealing with death as an atheist (out sometime in 2014), it’s probably going to be anything but a bestseller. Who wants to buy a book about death and dying? Not even me, really … but there are still some things worth saying, and I think SOMEBODY has to do it. You know, for our people. For us.

I also want to carry on writing about — and hopefully speaking about — Beta Culture. Because I think it’s important, really important, and I’d like to see it actually happen.

But anyway, this time next year, I might be a trucker. Brace yourselves.

Hell, I might go all the way — pick my Southern accent back up, and start writin’ trucker love songs.

Baybuh, you done me wrawwnng,
Cain’t even think where to start,
I jist know I’m cryin’ tears,
For how you  jack-knifed my heart.

Whoa. Eat your heart out, Johnny Cash!

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Beta Culture: Bridges and War and All Things Daft

I know there are people who don’t like driving across long, high bridges. I’m one of them, I guess, but my job requires me to gird my loins and cross the huge, 3-mile-long, almost-60-year-old  Tappan Zee Bridge across the Hudson River near New York City twice a day.

The collapse of the Interstate 5 highway bridge in Mount Vernon, Wash., on Thursday, brought that roaring to mind over the past few days.

On days when traffic is slow and you’re standing still on the Tappan Zee — like yesterday evening during rush hour, with the roadway packed with the multitude fleeing the City for the Memorial Day holiday weekend — you can feel the thing flex and rumble under you. Not a day passes that I don’t think about what it would be like to fall 150 feet into the deep river, with deadly beams collapsing all around me.

Wikipedia says the Tappan Zee “was constructed during material shortages during the Korean War and designed to last only 50 years.” The really freaky thing about the Tappan Zee is that the roadway sometimes develops holes THROUGH WHICH YOU CAN SEE THE RIVER BELOW. They even have a name for the holes: punch-throughs. Sheee-it. Maintenance and repair crews work on the thing pretty much 24/7, but the beams overhead are covered with rust.

Wikipedia again (bold emphasis mine):

In 2009, the Tappan Zee Bridge was featured on The History Channel “The Crumbling of America” showing the infrastructure crisis in the United States. Many factors contribute to the precarious infrastructure of the bridge, which has been called “one of the most decrepit and potentially dangerous bridges” in the US. Engineering assessments have determined that “everything from steel corrosion to earthquakes to maritime accidents could cause major, perhaps catastrophic, damage to the span,” prompting one of the top aides in the New York state governor’s office to refer to the Tappan Zee as the “hold-your-breath bridge.” A 2009 state report noted that the bridge was not built with a plan that was “conducive to long-term durability” and that the Tappan Zee’s engineers designed it to be “nonredundant,” meaning that one “critical fracture could make the bridge fail completely because its supports couldn’t transfer the structure’s load to other supports.”

You catch all that? THE GOVERNMENT KNOWS IT’S DANGEROUS.  They haven’t fixed it. Just as so many bridges and overpasses in the U.S. haven’t been fixed.

But meanwhile, the United States spent close to a trillion dollars in destroying civilization in Iraq, at the orders of that brainless, gutless little shit George W. Bush. While our own infrastructure here at home was known to be crumbling, corporations that make weapons and military goods toddled off home with enough gold to make a pharaoh look like a filthy street beggar.

War has a price. Aside from the thousands of needless deaths of American’s young men and women, there’s the actual cost of war, and it is dramatically non-trivial. Estimates of the cost of the Vietnam War range from $150 billion to $584 billion. The cost of the combined Iraq-Afghanistan wars is upwards of $1.5 trillion. (Here’s a PDF with more on the cost of wars.)

Kids, if we’re counting the things we could’ve had if we hadn’t spent the  money on recent wars, that’s a FUCK of a lot of new bridges. High-speed rail routes and trains. Schools and teachers. Libraries. Parks and playgrounds. Hell, we could have thrown in free college educations for a million young Americans. So much, much more.

The reasons for this are way-hell more complicated than anything I can winkle out, but down at the most basic level, it seems to me it’s a failing of intellect, of the understanding of facts, of the desire to know true things and live in the real world. It’s the poison cranked every day out of a vast well of fantasy, wishful thinking and studied ignorance — plus the by-no-means-minor  willingness to be commanded, even owned — bequeathed to us by our thousands of years of religion.

None of this is anything we can afford for very much longer.

Nothing will stop it except sane, conscious effort.

By, you know, SOMEONE.

 

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Beta Culture: Never Doubt the Power of Religion

The basic rationale for establishing Beta Culture is to provide a balancing force against three “social entities” that are the only current avenues into any sort of future.

As I say it: “There’s the future we might WANT, and the future we’re going to GET.”

The future we’re going to get is the one government, business and religion will get us to. You and I might want a cure for Alzheimer’s in ten years, but if government won’t help fund the research, if universities, hospitals, pharma companies and such won’t DO the research, and if religion blocks the research, there will be no cure for Alzheimer’s. Not ever, unless something changes.

Beta Culture would be a fourth social entity  force that would either act directly or act to exert force on the other three, to get us to a livable, likeable future. Think of these entities as boats on an ocean of possibilities. If the only boats we have are THEIR three boats, we will either not get where we want to go, or will arrive on their schedule instead of ours.  But if we had a fourth boat, our own boat, we’d have more of a guarantee of getting to the livable future WE dream of.

Even considering it’s me saying it, I always flinch just a bit when mentioning religion in the same sentence as government and business. Governments and worldwide corporations are the massive, powerful forces that run the world, aren’t they? By contrast, we generally see churches and religion as relatively powerless. We atheists are comfortable laughing at poor, weak, doddering religion, expecting it will die off any day now and leave us free of it.

And yet, here religion is, flexing its muscle, influencing the minds of the public and members of Congress to ignore climate change. From Raw Story:

Belief in biblical end-times stifling climate change action in U.S.

The United States has failed to take action to mitigate climate change thanks in part to the large number of religious Americans who believe the world has a set expiration date.

Research by David C. Barker of the University of Pittsburgh and David H. Bearce of the University of Colorado uncovered that belief in the biblical end-times was a motivating factor behind resistance to curbing climate change.

“[T]he fact that such an overwhelming percentage of Republican citizens profess a belief in the Second Coming (76 percent in 2006, according to our sample) suggests that governmental attempts to curb greenhouse emissions would encounter stiff resistance even if every Democrat in the country wanted to curb them,” Barker and Bearce wrote in their study, which will be published in the June issue of Political Science Quarterly.

David Pakman talks about it.

(Apology in advance: I don’t know how to set this so you’ll only see the first segment, which is the one on global warming. You’ll have to shut the video player down manually at the end, or it will go on to the “bulletproof whiteboard” story and five others.)

We pretty much have to build this fourth boat.

Beta Culture: Big Funny Hats

If we’re going to be a real culture with a readily-identifiable visual identity (and a culturally innate sense of humor), we simply have to have our own Big Funny Hat.

My east Texas cowboy culture has them. The Catholics have them (for their leaders, anyway). The Amish have them, and so do Hasidic Jews. Even Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble have them.

I’ve been thinking there should be meetings every two months, where we gather in our respective home cities and display our efforts at choosing or designing a proper BFH, and then an annual meeting where we converse, confer and otherwise hobnob with each other, with a special session devoted to Big Funny Hat efforts. Probably there would be food involved in these meetings, and some sort of alcoholic beverage. Not enough to inspire Vogon poetry, you understand, but enough to lubricate the flow of ideas.

Now I don’t know if all that’s necessary. Jerry Van Amerongen has pretty much nailed it for me with a single Ballard Street panel.

 

 

I’m Ready for My Inheritance, Granny — Would You Kindly DIE??

I was talking to my friend Dirt Boy (he owns a plant nursery, and I never shake his hand that he doesn’t have to wipe it off first) last night about Beta Culture, and we got onto the subject of death.

If you’re an existing reader here, you probably know about my Cowboy Dad. For you others: I grew up in Houston, Texas, moved to a little mountain town in California when I was 22. I met this guy there who became my mentor, teacher and eventually, “Dad.” We were both mule packers and wilderness guides — cowboys, that is.

So: Cowboy Dad.  And I wish you could have known him. He was the greatest, kindest, toughest, most magnificent  single human I ever knew. Hell, he put up with ME for 35 years.

I sat with him in the hospital for the last four days of his life, sponging off his forehead, talking to him, telling him everything I needed to say: Your life mattered. The world was a better place for having you in it. I wish we were anywhere else right now, maybe reining in at Duck Pass and looking down at the lake, or setting up camp in Horse Heaven. I will never, ever forget you. I wish I’d been a better son. A thousand times: I love you, Old Man, and I always will.

Anyway, he died. He was conscious and in control for most of those four days, and he was emphatically clear that no tubes or wires were going to be connected to him. Though he couldn’t talk, the fury on his face when a nurse tried to sneak one in on him was eloquent as hell.

He was neither drinking nor eating by the time I got there, so essentially he was starving and thirsting himself to death. The peaceful breathing on the day of my arrival gradually ramped up over the four days to the rasping breath of a marathon runner, and he crossed the finish line as I sat with him.

Though they gave him morphine every few hours, I have no doubt that the whole thing was agonizing. Part of his end was some sort of septic reaction that made his legs and feet swollen and black — so painful they put a little arched rail down by his feet so the sheet wouldn’t touch his toes.

I asked a doctor, and later a nurse, flat out: Is there anything we can do to end this? Their eyes slid away from mine and they voiced standard platitudes: Well, we can make him as comfortable as possible in the time remaining.

Though his dying was no fault of anyone’s, he was still, by the nature of the situation, being tortured to death. And damn, I hate knowing that.

You know, there were moments when I would have liked a final hug from him, more than the one squeeze of his hand and the one smile that accompanied it. But I understood this was HIS time, that he was BUSY, and that I would have a whole lifetime more to see to my own needs. I was there for him, and him only, and so were the doctors and nurses.

Except in this one way: None of us had the power or the will to let him go painlessly.

I know for a fact that he didn’t want to be lying there in pain, dying in a bed. Hah — more than once I heard him reveal his ideal end: “I want to be shot by a jealous lover right after making love to identical twin redheads!” But he would just as well have wanted to die in his sleep while camping in his beloved John Muir wilderness.

I don’t want that sort of boundlessly-painful in-bed end for myself. Or for anybody who doesn’t choose it. But it’s what we’ve got, and there is no possibility of that changing.

I suppose some small part of the problem is our screwed-up language.  For the elderly person who seeks an end to intractable, never-ending pain, we have only the one graceless word, the same one we use for the vengeful adolescent who jumps off a bridge to get back at his parents for being grounded, or for the cornered killer who shoots himself to escape arrest.

He committed suicide. She committed suicide. Shameful. Disturbing. Bad.

And as we all know, “suicide” is ALWAYS wrong. It’s crazy, it’s sinful, you go straight to Hell.

As you might guess from the title of this piece, I know there really are people out there who would seek to quietly and conveniently do away with Granny, or even Mom, to speed their inheritance on its way. The thing is, most people WOULDN’T. But as Dirt Boy describes it, “We make the rules for the dumbest kid in class.” Or the meanest, the most evil, the most greedy. And everybody else, though they’ve done nothing wrong, suffer from it.

The result: For all those who might, with great love and compassion, assist in the death of a loved one, it’s just plain old murder. We’ll put your ass in prison if you do it.

We’ve all heard that old argument: We treat our pets better than we do our old people. But yes, in fact, we do. I’ve sat with two dogs, Ranger the Valiant Warrior and Tito the Mighty Hunter, hugging them and dripping tears into their fur, as they died. Tito died at home, on the grassy hillside of his own yard. Ranger died in a vet’s office, but I insisted he be given a shot of painkiller before he got the death shot, so I’d know he didn’t die in pain. And both times, I was talking to them, telling them what great friends they were: You’re the best, Ranger! I love you, good boy! I love you T-Buddy (Tito)! I’ll never forget YOU.

Oh, shit, I’m crying as I write this. But … it’s a good cry. Memories of those friends will be with me always, and damn, I hated to lose them. But I know I did the RIGHT thing to let them go painlessly.  Ranger lived to be 12.5 — a very advanced age for a pedigreed German shepherd. Tito, my big malamute-black lab mutt, lived to be 16.5. They were OLD. They’d lived their lives. And in both cases, we extended their time in every way we could, until we couldn’t do any more. Neither could walk. Ranger was bleeding internally and in pain, Tito had some sort of cancer and was finally too weak to stand up. It wasn’t murder; it was mercy.

When the “I can’t bear to lose him” inside me was finally beaten out by the “Don’t be selfish, he’s suffering,” in each case, I let them go — painlessly, peacefully, and with all the tear-soaked love in my body.

In ugly contrast, what we have for people — mediated by cops, courts, lawyers and distant legislators — is … well, LEGAL.

Not loving and compassionate and pain free. Legal.

I’d bet good money that if you could do a brain scan of almost anyone dying in a hospital of advanced age or serious disease, you’d find that they were suffering hellish pain — at least part of the time, and some of them the whole time.

But hey, on the bright side, the rest of us don’t have to feel it. And at least we’re keeping safe that small percentage who might otherwise be murdered by greedy heirs. Because screw the rest of those old gummers, right? We can torture them to death by default, then walk away and forget the whole thing.

Merciless. Ugly. Crazy. Uncivilized. And forever. Unless …

Speaking for myself, I’d like to live in a society, in a culture, that will treat me better when I’m close to death. I don’t want drugs, I want dignity. Self-determination. Freedom. I want to be in charge of my faculties and my life, and have some say in the moment and manner of my ending. I damned well demand it.

It’s one of the many things I think could be changed, if we create this new thing.

 

Beta Culture: Replies to Comments 1

Nolan, frequent and intelligent commenter here at Patheos (I’ve just discovered you can click on the name of the person leaving a comment, and see their many contributions here and elsewhere on the network), replied to my “13 Early Questions” post:

My initial reaction, even after reading your response in point 9, is that Beta Culture is more or less the same thing as humanism. Given the rarity of people who think like humanists, and the difficulty of starting new movements from scratch, I think it would be better to lend your support and ideas to Humanism, instead of trying to reinvent the wheel.

Humanism is close enough that even if you have some disagreements, joining that movement may allow you to influence Humanism (it does change a little each time a new Humanist Manifesto is released).

I started a reply comment, but ended up with more than 500 words, so decided to turn it into a full-length post.

I’m also realizing I’ll want to bring certain discussions out of comments and display them on the first page here so they can be seen by everybody, and addressed as the separate subjects they will be. So:

Nolan:

I have good feelings about Humanism. But I think what I’m picturing is something a bit larger, an active, growing Culture that goes beyond personal philosophy and occupies a more assertive place on the larger social stage.

When I picture this graphically as a Venn diagram, I think of a large circle with smaller circles inside it. Beta Culture is a social entity within which Humanism can take place, but also things like Atheism-Plus, the Occupy movement, feminism, etc. It’s a vehicle to supercharge the various kinds of  activism by making them the solid cultural values of every member of Beta. In other words, rather than having the current small groups pursuing Occupy goals, Beta Culture as a whole would be an Occupy activist, or a feminist, or whatever foundational values we choose to adopt. If we have 30 million Betas, we have 30 million feminist activists, 30 million take-no-shit environmentalists, 30 million people who refuse to have their children taught creationism in school.

Add to it the fact that Humanism includes numerous people who are religious, and I think there’s a clear difference. The bottom line to me as an atheist is that religion is a mind-poison that has unavoidable negative effects on the individuals who embrace it, as well as massive, still-largely-unseen effects on every society or culture based on it.

Look at the way we handle sex education and reproductive medicine in the U.S. The idea that young people shouldn’t have access to condoms, contraceptives, comprehensive sex and health education is INSANE … yet it’s a majority view which has all too slowly given ground to something more sensible.

Hell, we’ve even LOST ground in some crucial ways. See “Why Have So Many States Banned Abortions?” Ten states in the U.S. have a de facto abortion ban, and the movement to make it nationwide is gaining steam every day.

But if you establish your own culture, you can set sexual health and reproductive choice into it as core values, right from Day One. Every Beta kid would know how his/her body worked, learning not only HOW not to have babies at the age of 15, but WHY. And would have the physical tools to ensure successful application of the knowledge.

Beta is the product of a solidly non-religious mindset. Another mental picture I’ve had in my conceptual work is that of a stepped pyramid. Feminism, environmentalism, etc., would occupy higher levels of the pyramid, but the foundation of the thing, the several massive levels at its base, would be atheism — the uncompromising  rejection of religious, mystical or superstitious mindsets.

The need Beta Culture fills, as I see it, is to provide a place, for the first time ever in history, for uncompromising rational thinkers. A place for them to start fresh and build something new, based on rational thought, rather than to inherit this societal fixer-upper we’re otherwise going to get, with the active termite-infestation of religion and the powdery dry rot of irrational thinking all through it.

You and I may feel good about being individual atheists, but everything around us, including our language, social systems, entertainment, so much, much more, is tainted by thousands of years of religion. Yes, we have to live in this world, but nothing says we can’t establish a unique social enclave of our own, choosing our own path, creating unique new solutions to social problems rather than adopting existing ones and trying to make ourselves fit them.

Beta Culture: 13 Early Questions

1.  What is it?

Beta Culture is intended to be a novel cultural surround, crowd-sourced and deliberately-created, aimed at providing the broad social benefits and protections that other cultures – including religious cultures – enjoy, but without the disturbing shortcomings of religious belief.

Given that most atheists come from fairly close-knit religious cultures and families, and that a common result of the rejection of religion is the loss of much of the cultural surround that goes with it, Beta Culture is intended to replace the lost fellowship, family and social connections.

Given also that religious cultures enjoy special benefits in society that individual unbelievers can’t take advantage of – visibility, voice, special legal protections, and even certain freedoms from taxation, all of which amount to unusual social power – Beta Culture would serve to replace that lost power with a social structure that demands equal access and rights in society for its members.

2.  Why do we need it?

It could be argued that we don’t. Some of the social changes we desire are happening on their own. And certainly we as individuals seem to be managing to live our lives, to have careers and create families, to plan for our individual futures, and even to become outspoken atheists, all on our own.

As things stand, though, we also face both great negative social changes and a lack of progress on certain positive changes. There are larger forces in society over which individuals, however many of us there are with shared ideals and values, have little or no effect.

Really, this is all about the future. There’s the one we’d like, and the one we’re getting. In my view, three large social entities are the primary forces delivering us into our shared future – government, business and religion.

We might want certain good things for the future, might un-want certain bad  things, but we’re pretty much at the mercy of these three social forces when it comes to attaining those desires. We have no way of achieving the good things on our own, and we’re powerless to stop others from doing the bad things … except as these three entities permit. We’re at their mercy.

If the future you want includes flying cars, but these three entities have no interest in creating or providing them, you won’t get them. More practically, if you want a cure for Alzheimer’s in 10 years, but the steps to that reachable goal are unfunded by government, unpursued by business, and opposed by religion, there will never be a cure for Alzheimer’s.

If you want a future in which there is no war, but that goal is ignored by government, unprofitable to business, and passively uninteresting to religion, there may  never be an end to war. Until war ends us, anyway.

In my view, we need a fourth social entity, a solid organization of rational people, to exert our own social force. A culture – which encompasses ALL our shared values – might be the most effective way to do it.

Cultures can demand things individuals can’t, exerting powerful social and even legal pressure to make them happen. (For example, some Sikhs, including Sikh children in school, have won legal protection for carrying “ceremonial” knives, in places where zero tolerance of weapons is the rule for everyone else. Meaning: Some people obtain rights enjoyed by no others, and those rights are won on religio-cultural arguments.)

3.  Why is it called Beta Culture?

Basically, pretty much all previous Earth cultures and societies have this one thing in common: Religion. And not as some distant peripheral aspect, but as the core of the culture, the thing that holds it together.

Since that was just the way things always were, nobody thought to call it anything but History. But for the first time, today, we have the chance to build a society that does NOT have religion at its heart, a culture of reason and reality, something that actively rejects the poisonous influences of religion, mysticism and unreason.

Seeking a simple name for the massed aggregate of history’s religious tribes, communities and nations, I chose to call it Alpha Culture.

Beta Culture was the obvious choice for its successor. Beta Culture would be a first-ever on Earth. It’s “Beta” not because it comes second, but because it comes NEXT.

4.  Isn’t there a problem with the name?

Yep, there is. If we choose to worry about it, that is.

“Beta Culture” in the techie world refers to software manufacturers who release buggy software before it’s actually ready for the market, in effect making their paying customers the beta testers. In other words, there’s a “culture” in the software world that thinks this is the way to do business. In this sense, “Beta Culture” is a pejorative term.

On the other hand, EVERY word in our language is already well-used. You either use something that already exists, or you make up something totally new and hope it doesn’t sound like a new car model, or a prescription drug: Zephyre. Quoddro. Zeepinex.

Ditto for most phrases. Searching for completely unused phrases on Google, the best I’ve come up with is “Scuba Diving Laser Cats.” Given a choice of Beta Culture or the one that sounds like a Saturday morning cartoon show, I thought Beta Culture was a pretty good choice. Until something better is suggested (by the people who join in making it real), Beta Culture it is.

If Beta Culture resonates with enough people so that it becomes a real thing, or even if it’s just written and commented about enough, future Google searches will turn up more hits referring to OUR Beta Culture than to those that link to what appears to be little more than a footnote to the software industry.

5.  Isn’t it just another religion?

No.

Lacking any religious belief structure and being operated as a social, cultural and legal organization to protect the rights of its members, Beta Culture would not be a religion.

Given that it would demand the same rights and protections for its members that religions and churches enjoy, it will certainly face accusations that it’s a religion. But that’s already true, isn’t it? NOTHING atheists do will lack some sort of angry response from the religious lobby. The answer is to not worry too much about what they think or say, but to live our own values and do what seems right to us.

We’ll know we’re not doing religion, because it will be us doing what we’re doing.

6.  What’s the difference between a religion and a culture?

Religion is a subset of culture.

Broadly, religion is the set of beliefs and practices related to a holy book, prophet, cult leader or priesthood. Culture is a set of common beliefs and practices of a specific people, a coherent, mostly uniform group bonded together by common lifestyle and outlook.

An obvious example of the difference is that there is a Jewish religion, but there is also a Jewish culture. The religion is practiced only within its containing culture, but not every member of the Jewish culture practices the Jewish religion. A certain legal and social conflation of the two ensure that both Jewish religion and Jewish culture enjoy broad general rights and protections in society.

A culture that contains no religious base is generally disadvantaged in relation to religion in that various kinds of social effectiveness, and certain legal protections such as exemption from taxation for its meeting places, are missing. However, in that atheism consists of certain convictions that might be legally construed as faith-related, unlike, say “Nascar culture” or even the other “Beta Culture,” it should be eligible for the same legal protections and rights.

Regardless, the coherence of the culture, the buy-in of its members, would create a powerful social entity all by itself.

7.  What are the values and goals of Beta Culture?

Progressive and humanist values. Any one of us could probably come up with a long list of values – values cherished, it sometimes seems, because they appear so unachievable.

The full equality of women, including expanded access to reproductive health care. Expanded and real environmental protection. Social justice. A powerful emphasis on science and science teaching. Government and corporate transparency. Freedom from religion at the level of society, but also for every individual who desires it. Fixing stupid drug laws. A massive national (worldwide) push to solar power. Here in the U.S., revolutionary effort to reform public transportation, with an emphasis on fast, efficient trains. Economic justice a la Occupy – serious prison terms for corporate criminals, and the insistence that the wealthy and wealthy corporations pay their taxes, and stop receiving government subsidies. Real sex education for kids, including ready access to condoms and contraceptives.

But also, in my view, certain other things: A free college education to any young person who qualifies. A living wage to seniors on Social Security. Funding for research aimed to end Alzheimer’s, diabetes, other big killers. An end to the right to lie and manipulate by broadcast media.

All of these things are worth pursuing as social goals; many or most of them face powerful resistance from the three other social entities.

The point of the crowd-sourcing is that Beta is fluid until we begin to refine and solidify it with our massed convictions. And even then, major changes should be able to take place.

8.  Will Beta Culture have some sort of “church” or meeting place?

Definitely yes! As formal religion contracts all across the U.S., and great parts of the world, countless big beautiful buildings will be sold off by their parent churches and re-purposed for other uses. (In the U.S., the same is true of post offices.) There’s no reason some of those – ideally, one in every community – shouldn’t become places for atheists and unbelievers to meet for social activism, fellowship, and countless other activities.

I think of this location as a community “Nexus.”

With a careful approach to legal issues, there’s no reason Nexus should enjoy any fewer rights in relation to taxation as any church, synagogue, mosque or other religious/social center. Given that there are already atheist “churches,” it would seem the point has been established as defensible.

9.  How is this different from Humanism? How is it different from Atheism-Plus?

For all I know, the heart of Beta Culture may be point-for-point the same as Humanism, and I have no problem with that. My experience of Humanism, though, is that it’s mostly focused on the convictions and choices of individuals. Though it carries larger social implications, I rarely see humanists organizing for greater social influence (It may just be that there aren’t enough of them!). One of the core implications of humanism as a personal choice seems to be that, as a matter of respect for the individual, other people have the right to make their own choices, other choices.

Of course I agree with that, but my agreement radically ends when the choices made by large numbers of others impact not only my life, but the lives of everyone and everything around me, for the worse. And that’s what we’re facing – not just a slide into a problematic future, but a zooming, rocketing race into it.

It’s long past time for a new social force to enter the game, an assertive culture of individuals who want to stop the bad stuff and quicken the good stuff. People who can’t wait for change to simply happen along, but want to exert pressure to make it happen now, or in the very near future.

Atheism-Plus, in my view, was a conceptual step along the way to Beta Culture — I joke about my blood type: “Hey, I’ve been A+ since 1952!” — but it fumbled the ball in its introduction by making enemies within what should have been its own camp.

One of the problems with atheism is that we’ve only recently reached a critical mass of social thinkers attempting to see its full social implications. One of the understandings coming out of that massed effort is the realization that atheism isn’t enough. After you’ve reached complete understanding that no such things as gods exist, you’re still faced with the rest of life, the problem of defining your non-religious values, establishing your non-religious social practices, pursuing your non-religious future.

Religion has this huge advantage over us there. Not only is all that stuff already worked out, religion provides automatic family, community and culture that enfolds and guides every member within it. Religious culture tells you how to be born, how to die, how to live in your daily life, how to find mates and marry, how to conduct family life, often even how to learn and work.

Atheism provides none of that. And yet we social beasts do need those things, or at least some of them.

Atheism-Plus was (or is) an attempt to define certain social values that atheists might hold, and make some progress toward pursuing them.

It suffers from two unfortunate stigmas, in my view. One is the definitional problem of trying to add meaning to a word already possessing a strong and definite meaning to people who self-identify under it. Initial opposition to the attempt to redefine it, even if only by adding a dash and a second word, was predictably fierce. The second problem was defensiveness on the part of those within the initial movement, a baldly stated exclusionary “with us or against us” mentality that instantly created an avid opposition.

It suffers from a third shortcoming, that it’s still only a partial answer to the underlying question. Religion has all this good stuff – influence and power on our social stage, but also that enfolding protection and guidance for its members – but what do we atheists have? Even with Atheism-Plus, the answer is still little or nothing.

But we could have something. A dramatically different, affirmative, energetic culture that gives us protection as individuals and demands social change as a group.

10.  Who can join Beta Culture?

The single basement-level requirement to joining Beta Culture is atheism or at least agnosticism. If you lack the basic real-world focus that allows you to escape the fantasies of religion and mysticism, Beta Culture is not for you.

This is not some exclusionary device meant to cheat anyone out of basic rights. It’s a way to define our OWN basic rights. Unbelievers have always been forced to live within and be subject to powerful religious cultures that have utterly controlled us. The cost has included us keeping our mouths shut, even when we knew things that would have been immensely helpful to our social fellows, but has also included not-rare death sentences … which continue today in parts of the world.

It’s time we had our own place, our own culture. Anyone can join, but they have to accept this entirely reasonable entry fee – they have to show they’ve reached the mental maturity of freethought.

I fully expect another of the core values of Beta Culture to be outreach or teaching. Proselytizing. In fact, I don’t see how it can survive or grow without it. I also can’t see how it can be successful at providing a social force for progress or backpressure if it doesn’t gain members rapidly, and worldwide.

Certainly there are those of us within the atheist movement who think we should be working with religious groups on common social challenges, and I see that as a worthwhile goal, but it would have to be clear that Beta would never allow religious people or religious proselytizing within it. If it becomes a harbor for the religious, internal stresses between atheists and religionists will almost instantly destroy it as any sort of useful social force of the type needed. Rather than a fourth social force, it would become just another church, and atheists would bail out in droves.

(As such, I fully expect there will be people kicked out of Beta for religious proselytizing or woo-pitching, and the thought bothers me not one bit. Godders and mystics have had thousands of years to run the world. We have the right to build a sanctuary for ourselves free from them and their poison.)

11.  How do you actually create a culture from scratch?

It must be easier than we think, because they pop up among us all the time. Most are fractional cultures, satisfying only small parts of the members’ lives. I’m thinking of Justin Bieber fandom, or the decades-older Grateful Dead or Jimmy Buffett fan phenomena. Nascar fans. The Harley Davidson culture, Apple culture, cowboy/western culture.

We have two huge advantages in our case.

One, we have the benefit of crowd-sourcing mediated by our online connections.

Two, we can steal from anyone. Every culture that exists today, and every culture from all of human history, is/was an experiment in ways humans can live and work together. There’s nothing proprietary or patented in any of those cultures. If we want to wear kilts or Sherpa hats, if we want to develop our own international sign language, if we want to all talk in 1980s CB lingo, good buddy, all of that is either doable on our own or available through guilt-free borrowing from others. And we can be as tame or as outrageous as we like.

Beta Culture itself is an experiment, a refinable one that can adopt and abandon lifeways, at will, and at the direction of its bright members.

12.  What can we do with it?

You tell me.

The first thing *I* want is a Beta meal when I fly, a meal that contains fresh fruit juice, a salad made out of wholesome fully-natural ingredients prepared without preservatives and additives, and a sandwich made with freshly-baked multi-grain bread and turkey roasted within the past two hours, plus mayonnaise prepared from scratch by a sweet little woman named Marge who used to make it just that way for her grandchildren.

Sounds crazy? But that’s pretty much the sort of specificity others get when they ask for Kosher (or Halal or Vegan) meals on flights. If they can command that sort of respect, I want US to command that sort of respect.

Yes, I really do want (someday, hopefully in my lifetime) authorized and incorruptible Beta inspectors checking the stuff I eat before I eat it, and giving it the Beta Approved stamp so I know what’s in it.

The next time a mass shooting happens and the memorial service includes a Rabbi, a Priest, an Imam, I damned sure want a Beta up there to convey the right of unbelievers to be equally represented in the community of grief.

After Beta Culture becomes more widely known, I want some mother or father to march down to the public school where their kids are being indoctrinated with other people’s religion and say “How dare you teach my kids your religion?! My whole family are Betas, we are shocked and horrified by this, and we demand you stop it this instant!”

I want at least one Beta community center, a Nexus, in every city in the U.S., and the world. I want it to contain The Darwin Café or Russell’s Tea Spot where atheists and Betas can gather for coffee and music and open mike nights of music or poetry contests or lectures (and where college students get reduced prices on coffee, hard-science majors get it free). I want it to include rooms  where traveling atheist speakers can sleep or freshen up before appearing at local events. I want an atheist library and reading room in every Nexus, and free web connections for members. I want Beta child care, and preschool. I want a large room for Beta ceremonies and meetings, and small ones for classrooms. I want a place for Rational Recovery meetings for alcohol, drug and gambling addicts.

I think I might even want a place where former priests and ministers can land as counselors and community helpers, after they realize they can no longer bear to live with the lies, but who have no other place to go because their entire career has been devoted to their church.

I want a huge Beta scholarship program to assist students in hard-science majors, and whatever else we can afford.

A great deal of this would be internal to the culture and eminently doable, but there are some things – the airline meal, for instance – that would require effort at external changes in the society around us. For that, as we grow, I want Beta lobbyists and watchdogs in Washington, working to secure our rights. I want Beta newscasts and Beta reporters.

I want … a lot. But that’s the point. So do you. There are an infinite number of things we could try.

13.  Why do it now?

Because … well, because I don’t think there’s a lot of time for we humans to rescue ourselves. Technologically, there are some things going right for us, but in so many other ways – not least of which is the environment – we are in some deep, deep shit. In all our 7 billions, we’re like a sledgehammer pounding daily at a very fragile little jewel of a world … and the oh-shit-we’re-fucked-ness may be greater than any of us imagine.

At the same time, there are powerful forces very interested in us remaining ignorant and weak rather than pitching in and recognizing and solving problems. (FOX News, for example, is a powerful corporation that spreads lies and turns so many of our countrymen into sheep who vote against their own interests.)

I could go on about this for thousands of words, but briefly: The community of reason is needed, and needed NOW. Both to save ourselves, and to help redirect larger society on paths that are survivable.

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A final note here:

I’m interested in input of the brainstorming variety. Brainstorming, if you’re familiar with it, is the process of suggesting ADDITIONAL aspects of the core idea, rather than shooting down ones already suggested.

There will be plenty of time later for us to say “That won’t work because …” (in time, I’m 100% certain there will be plenty of that from actual opponents). Meaning: If you want to comment on some part of this (or comment on a comment) that you find ridiculous or unworkable – ESPECIALLY if you have no creative options or ideas to ADD to it – please-please-please save the comment for later. We’re looking for Possibility Thinking here, creative thinking, rather than critique.

From my own thoughts on the subject and input from other atheists I respect, I really do think there’s something good here, a growing WORKABLE concept. But sometimes the REALLY good ideas only start flowing after you establish a welcoming environment, which means the first ten or so ideas have to be heard and noted, even if they are obviously (or later turn out to be) insanely unworkable. I hope the community can take the concept and think about it in an atmosphere of generosity and open-mindedness.

Bear in mind that we – you and I – could really build this thing. You could be one of its creators; you could suggest the core idea that makes it work … or the silly little side idea that makes it FUN.

Or we could kill it right now and continue to take the crap the rest of the world is already shoveling at us.

Looking forward to hearing from you.

 

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Beta Culture: Earthman’s Journey – Part 8 of 8

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The Final Doorway

The payoff of going through the transition from the House of the Tribe to the House of Humanity is very large. If we can make it across the painful threshold from our small but formerly comfortable dwelling space into this new and grander place, we gain an entire fascinating WORLD of people.

People to learn from, to visit, to photograph, to love, to sing to, to listen to, to argue with, to trade with, even to combine talents and efforts with, so as to accomplish great and noble tasks. The United Nations, the International Space Station and the Olympics are all House of Humanity works – absolutely impossible to accomplish in any smaller House.

Part of stepping across these metaphorical thresholds is the simple fact of outgrowing our present abode. We grow through all the available rooms of our self-absorbed childhood house until we are forced by the limited space to look for something better.

Another factor, though, is the supply of friendly guides who are already there, who convince us of the benefits and serve as role models or mentors.

Still another part of it, though, can be exterior forces that push us through. This type of transition can be decidedly un-smooth. In all too many places on our planet, we engage in dreadful activities – wars and genocide – which, because of their universality, appear to be House of Humanity works. Instead, they are the expressions of a determination not to step through a door into the next larger House. Think of a war as a defensive attempt to stay in your own tribal House. To do it by subjugating others to your way of life if you have the strength or, if you don’t, to convince them to leave you alone.

Moving out into the House of Family, we look back and discover that the House of Self is a tiny dollhouse. The House of the Tribe sheds the same sort of light on the House of Family. As we continue to grow, taking each transition in turn through these one-way doors, we look back and always find another dollhouse – a place too small for us to live in anymore.

Once we get to the House of Humanity, though, it’s hard to imagine it as a just another dollhouse. Learning to live in it is the job of lifetimes. The place is simply too big, too changeable, for us to ever really absorb it all. Surely this House must be the final one, the ultimate possibility we were born to experience. How could there be anything beyond a bustling, turbulent, creative seven-billion-member brotherhood?

I have reason to believe there is at least one more door, though.

There’s a great deal missing, even in this grandest of Houses. Having lived for all my adult years with the enormous mass of mankind around me, I’ve come to see that we in the House of Humanity are just as self-involved and self-absorbed as any of the occupants of those smaller houses. We are inward-looking and largely ignorant of what might lie outside.

More than that, nothing in the House of Humanity can account for the connection that clicked into place with Molly.

Molly was my key to this next door, but it took me more than a decade to figure out how to step through it. Even with plenty of people gone before me – through portals of compassion or ecological concern – making the transition was no small chore.

In the midst of all the wonderful things I’m discovering here in this new House, I look back and see, to my dismay, that the apparently boundless dwelling place of most of the people on the planet really is just another dollhouse. Busily engaged in the inbred affairs of the House of Humanity, most of us are unaware there is a larger space in which to adventure and learn, a place wider and more interesting than anything we’ve had – a place that will welcome us as the larger selves we could become, a place that has a real need for our human talents.

This is a House that can’t be complete without us, but that needs an “us” as we’ve never been.

The discomforts of this particular transition are stronger than any before, and the main one, as ever, is leaving behind the old. Old toys, old culture, old ways of thought. But as we take our place AMONG the other creatures of Earth rather than over them or apart from them, one of the many payoffs is a kinship, a sense of belonging, off the scale of anything we’ve ever known.

Someday I WILL write that book I spoke of earlier. I’ll tell what I’ve learned about the Big Picture, and lay out clear directions for how to get to this bigger place beyond that final door.

It will be a collection of conceptual highlights, the way-points and directional signs  that facilitated my own escape from the last dollhouse, and out into the House of Earth.

Beta Culture: Earthman’s Journey – Part 7 of 8

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The Houses of Man (cont.)

As you’ve probably already figured out, there are other steps in this bigger-house progression. At some point we discover the door to yet another Outside, and find that our original family home is only a small part of a bigger place – our neighborhood or culture. For want of a better name, call this dwelling place the House of the Tribe.

Again, there’s an uncomfortable period of adaptation in settling-in to this larger space. To become a full member of our tribe, we have to learn to say the right things at the right times, to sing the right songs and make the right pledges. We have to wear the right clothes – the right boots, pants, shirts, hats and belt buckles. We have to learn the right secret handshake – and so many more things. We may even have to have the right parts of our bodies ritually scarred, or tattooed, or cut off.

Historically speaking, this is about as far as most of us get. Throughout history, this tribal house, the house of our people, was almost always plenty big enough, providing us with friends, family, jobs, pleasant recreations (such as badminton, or hunting the heads of the tribesmen in the next valley) and challenges (all the Scouting merit badges, a Phi Beta Kappa pin, a lion skin of our very own), and a ceiling high enough to fulfill all our aspirations.

Every transition out of our currently-familiar place is attended by severe discomfort. That next door always opens out into a much, much larger place, and we have to learn a bunch of new things – the serious and difficult and sometimes frightening work of which can be forced on us long before the advantages become obvious. And again, we have to unlearn some things – we have to go against some of our earlier training.

One of the stumbling blocks to growth beyond the House of the Tribe is the nature of culture itself. Your culture buoys you up in many ways, providing the comfortable support of predictability. On the other hand, it also chops off your wild flights of fancy and drags you back from uncommon insights. Cultures endure because they actively oppose their members growing beyond them, from coming up with anything new. I remember showing up at a friend’s spread in Texas one time, wearing some loose comfortable shoes instead of the cowboy boots we all usually wore. In less than ten seconds, he’d fixed me with an incredulous eye and asked “Where’d yew git them pimpy shoes?”

Our culture also actively discourages the “us” from mixing in any way with the  “them.” To move beyond our Tribal House, we have to unlearn the “us-them” lesson. We have to learn that other people, the ones who have before now been the not-Us, are somehow related to us and worthy of equal treatment.

Talk about culture shock! They speak the wrong language, they eat weird, smelly foods, they’re different colors … and as far as we can tell, they don’t know a darned thing about the appropriate way to act. Even worse, they act as if they have a RIGHT to be all different. They don’t seem to have any desire to learn the correct ways to act and talk and eat. They sometimes even treat us as if WE are supposed to learn THEIR ways.

They have no idea that their women should be covered head to toe, or that there is a specific little hat to wear on Saturday, or that you eat hot dogs and beer (and not noodles, for chrissake!) at baseball games, or that you have to read this book and not that one, and you have to believe in this mystical superbeing – the real one – and not all those silly others.

The process holds an uncomfortable mirror up to our own lives. It can never be easy to learn, in stepping out into this next larger house, that our clothes are no better than theirs. To discover that our secret handshake, which gave us the intense inner feeling of belonging, is no better or worse than any other secret handshake; it is simply ours. The cosmetic and surgical alterations that we so laboriously prepared for and painfully endured – the nose-bone, the ivory ear plugs, the giant stainless steel earrings, the circumcision, the Harley tattoos, the nipple-rings – are (at best) simple curiosities or (at worst) objects of disgusted fascination to most of those other people. Worst of all, the universe seems to falter in its course as we learn that the God of Everything is only a garden-variety myth, one among many, and completely unknown just over the hill.

If we’re lucky enough, though, and persistent enough, and perhaps if we live in a society where enough adventurous rogues have found the next door and learned the advantages of stepping through it, we can move out into what has to be the biggest house of all – the House of Humanity.

CONTINUED

 

Beta Culture: Earthman’s Journey – Part 6 of 8

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The Houses of Man

Picture a house. Not a real house, but a kind of metaphor-house, the place where your inner life takes place. The rooms inside are furnished with your everyday thoughts, feelings and understandings.

In this particular house, there are secret doors. People can tell you that they’re there, but you never believe them, because you can’t see the doors, or any hint of them. Picture every little boy who has stoutly declared that he would never, ever want to eww, yuck, kiss a little girl. But then one day, maybe you step on certain metaphorical boards in just the right combination, or you lean against a place you never leaned against before — or maybe you just get old enough to finally see it — and a door pops open in a wall that you darned well never suspected of having a door.

Through that door is something new – a spacious and surprising new place. Suddenly there’s more to your life than you ever thought there could be.

My cowboy friend Jay, who invited me to this branding, related one of his own surprise door-openings, triggered by the birth of his son. This tough western fellow, who spent his long, long days riding horses, working cattle, fixing fence, hauling hay, moving sluice gates to and fro in grazing pasture irrigation ditches, and the ten thousand other body-wearying chores that real cowboying entails, woke up on just another morning as one person, but went to bed that night as somebody very different. On this day, a delivery-room nurse handed him his new son… and one of those doors popped open.

An actress in a soapy chick-flick would’ve had better dialogue for describing the tenderness, the protectiveness, the expanded sense of responsibility, the completely new kind of love that my friend told me blossomed within him, but the meaning was the same, and as clearly understood, in the words that he did manage.

How far back must these surprise door-openings go? What do you find if you travel back to the earliest part of your life? Somewhere back there is the little place where lived the original you, the newborn which was your start. Self-interested, self-absorbed, that first-of-all you existed within an abode which contained nothing but you and the things that served your needs and desires.

Born with an all-encompassing selfishness, this original You could have imagined nothing else but the importance of MY dry diaper, MY hunger, MY toys, MY party.

Call this origin-place the House of Self.

Some manage to get through life without growing very far beyond it. For most of us, though, the growing-beyond is one of our first major life steps. We come to see the totally self-absorbed people, the ones who don’t make it out, as tragically arrested, cut off from many of life’s joys.

For most of us, though, there comes a time when living entirely within the confines of that one house, however many rooms we have found in it, no longer fills our needs. The door we one day find opens not to a new room, but out of the house entirely. We step outside and discover that our former dwelling place is, rather than the center of everything, a mere dollhouse resting within a much bigger structure. In this bigger house are other people – our mother and father, brothers and sisters – and some of the stuff here is theirs.

We have to take notice of their rooms – THEIR possessions, THEIR needs, THEIR schedules – and it can be a costly and dismaying experience. In this new, bigger house we have to learn many new things – and unlearn many others. The payoff, though, is the gaining of mutual closeness and interconnected caring that greatly enlarges our lives. And a much more interesting world to live in.

Over time, we learn to live in this, the House of Family.

CONTINUED