Penn Jillette's 10 Commandments for atheists

1. The highest ideals are human intelligence, creativity and love. Respect these above all.
2. Do not put things or even ideas above other human beings. (Let's scream at each other about Kindle versus iPad, solar versus nuclear, Republican versus Libertarian, Garth Brooks versus Sun Ra— but when your house is on fire, I'll be there to help.)
3. Say what you mean, even when talking to yourself. (What used to be an oath to (G)od is now quite simply respecting yourself.)
4. Put aside some time to rest and think. (If you're religious, that might be the Sabbath; if you're a Vegas magician, that'll be the day with the lowest grosses.)
5. Be there for your family. Love your parents, your partner, and your children. (Love is deeper than honor, and parents matter, but so do spouse and children.)
6. Respect and protect all human life. (Many believe that "Thou shalt not kill" only refers to people in the same tribe. I say it's all human life.)
7. Keep your promises. (If you can't be sexually exclusive to your spouse, don't make that deal.)
8. Don't steal. (This includes magic tricks and jokes — you know who you are!)
9. Don't lie. (You know, unless you're doing magic tricks and it's part of your job. Does that make it OK for politicians, too?)
10. Don't waste too much time wishing, hoping, and being envious; it'll make you bugnutty.

Hell

Midway upon the journey of our life, I found myself within a forest dark, For the straightforward pathway had been lost. Dante said it best as he documented his tour thru Hell.

My quest began in a similar fashion.

The road was long and narrow, like a snake curling its way thru a tight grouping of trees. The entrance was close, I could feel it. It was not a happy feeling. The weight of the tortured souls bared down on everything the faint gold and blue light touched. As I neared the end of the path, I came to a great divide in the imposing rock face, like a tremendous fiery sword tore a slice thru the mountain to reveal the horrors that lay within. A lone wooden placard hang askew from the farthest corner of the gash that read 'All hope abandon ye who enter here'.

I knew that I was in the right place. Unlike Dante, I did not have an angel to guide me thru the depths of this wretched place. I was alone. I sought this place out, and it is I alone that found it. My own fears aside, I took my first tremulous steps into the cavern to seek what I was here for. Dante’s words kept ringing in my ears, a constant drumbeat along with the beating of my heart set the pace of my steps as I guided myself down a descending stairwell into the pits of Hell.

Through me you pass into the city of woe:

Through me you pass into eternal pain:

Through me among the people lost for aye.

Before me things create were none, save things

Eternal, and eternal I endure.

All hope abandon ye who enter here.

Step by step, I descend deeper into the eternal darkness that lies ahead of me, continuing downward, a pinpoint of light starts to emerge from the farthest reaches of the blackness. Inch by inch, the light begins to grow, until I find myself in a green garden. It is lush and thriving. The sun is warm on my skin, but peering upwards, I see nothing in the sky. In the distance I also see a castle with seven gates standing sentinel to whatever evils may lie behind it. This is Purgatory. I have made it.

Standing at the castle mount, I search for a way inside. I complete a full circle and still find no means of entrance. It is only them do I realize that I am alone. There is no one here. This is described as place for the un-baptized and the virtuous pagans who, though not sinful, did not accept Christ. Where were Homer, and Euclid, and Cicero? Where are all the others that were to populate this, the least harsh outer circle of Hell?

I am confused. This does not make sense, why is this place deserted? I begin to look around this great wide expanse of meadow, for any sign of people. It is not until my sixth turn about do I spot it. A great tall figure standing just to my right watching every move I make. He is dressed in a full cloak and his face is well hidden under a hood. As I move closer he backs away. I call out to him and ask his name, silence. I call again, and again silence. It is only when my mind was clear and my thoughts were not on knowing its name did he reveal himself.

It came as a whisper, inside my head. Almost as though I was talking to myself, but I found thoughts in my head that were new or subtly foreign. “My name is Bifrons, Come find the answers you seek.” “Why are the fields empty, where are the lost souls waiting for redemption?” I asked. “That is not the question you seek answers for.” He replied. It was a statement, and he was correct. That is not why I was here.

Just in case!

Just in case…

By: Stephen Motroni

Tim was a shy and awkward man. There was nothing about him that was unique. He had a typical job and a typical home, in a typical neighborhood, but Tim had a very intriguing secret. This was the kind of secret that you did not let slip. If this got out, then it would be lights out for our friend Tim.

It was the first week in October, and there was a very distinct chill in the air, on account of the arctic front making its way down from Canada. The first rays of the morning sunlight started to peek thru Tim’s wooden louver blinds, and Tim tossed from side to side in his sleigh bed to escape from the obnoxious intruder. It was all very normal for Tim to start off his morning like this. However this morning was to be anything but typical.

For some time now there had been a blue windowless van that had been parked 3 houses down from Tim’s. It had gone unnoticed by Tim, as he rarely paid close attention to anything but the shiny new iPhone that almost never left his hands.

With a blinding ray of sunlight and the sharp sting of a morning piss, Tim reluctantly got out of bed, and made his way to the toilet to let nature take her course. With Tim’s immediate needs out of the way, he would have just enough time to get his stuff together, and get out of the house before he was late for work again!

Socks and shirts, underwear and shoes, all flying thru the air like some kind of mental juggling act; Tim dressed at top speed and ran out the door. Tim was one of those hippy tree huggers that did not believe in cars, as they often caused pollution, and Tim wanted to be part of the solution not part of the problem. It was the line he used all the time, I think he heard it on PBS, and just started repeating it. Minutes later he was dressed and out the door.

The metal handrail that floated above the shallow steps on the front of his building was cold to the touch. He grabbed his cashmere lined gloves, and he was on his way to work. Now little did Tim know that a mere moment after he left, the side door to the blue van slid open, and a tall masked figure emerged from the dark shadows of the van.

The figure moved silently across the expanse of street, until he was right in front of the house that Tim just departed from. He reached into his pocket, and removed a long, thin wire like device and slipped it into the keyhole of the front door. A shack and a jiggle was all it took to get the door to swing wide open to reveal the large sun fill sitting room of the recently emptied house. The man slipped inside and went to work.

Tim had started walking the usual beat he made every morning to get to work. It was a 5 minute walk that usually took him 15 because he never walked more than a few steps before he stopped to read another funny post on Fail blog. As Tim was rounding the corner however, he remembered that he had neglected to lock the back door, and it would be unwise to leave it unlocked all day long. He made and about face and doubled timed it home.

The work was going slow because this guy was a complete mess. He had nothing organized. His whole house was in complete disarray. He knew what he was looking for but trying to find it in this jungle of shit was not going well at all! The search must go on, and on he continued. He knew that Tim worked till 3:30 because of all the surveillance that he had been doing for the last few days, so there was plenty of time. Only when the man heard the scrape of a metal key in the door did his blood start rushing, and little beads of sweat started to form on his now uncovered forehead.

Tim could not believe that he was so careless to leave the door unlocked. He had a ritual of closing the house up before he left for work, but since his morning had been so hectic, Tim was not too hard on himself. He was in the front door and across the living room in about 10 steps, and off thru the kitchen to lock up nice and tight. It was only after Tim had locked the door and turned around that he noticed that he was not alone in his living room any longer.

The masked man had recovered his face and was standing roughly a foot from where Tim stood. Tim was startled, but knew that this was no accident. He was expecting it. He had been for some time now. The masked stranger extended his hand, not for a handshake, but rather in a give me the item sorta way. Tim was not about to part with it. He had it hidden since it was given to him; with the express direction never let it get out of the house.

Tim picked the spot some time ago, and it has not seen the light of day since. It was tucked away in an old copy of “Just in case: How to be self sufficient when the unexpected happens” by Kathy Harrison. Tim had prepared for the day when someone would get this far, and make it into his house. Others had attempted it, but none have been around long enough to tell the tale. Tim was calm and did what he did best, played dumb.

“Give it to me.” Was all the man would say. Tim said that he was wrong, that he had nothing of value, and to rob him would be silly. The masked man just stood there and repeated his phrase. “Give it to me” the man said again, this time quite a bit louder. Tim had to decide what move to play next. He started to open his mouth to speak, but before he could answer, the masked man’s face contorted under the mask, and his body fell limp onto the scratched faux wooden floor.

Looking over to the open front door was another man dressed all in black standing in the doorway with a smoking gun pointed into the living room where Tim was now standing alone. The man lowered the weapon, and looked at Tim for a minute, as if he was sizing him up. The silence was held for an eternity, but in reality, it was more like 30 seconds. 5 words were spoken to Tim before the man ran down the steps again and into a waiting car. They were “Be more careful next time”

Loss

I have never really had to go thru the grief of losing someone that I have really loved. I have lost my grandfather, but I was never all that close to him, so his death was not really all that sad. It was sad that my mother was hurting, as that was her father, but for me as an individual, it was not really a loss. Death has decided that he is now going to stalk my Grandmother. She is 84, and had lived a very full and rich life. She was married young to her first husband Hugo, (pop pop) and she had 2 boys, Mark and Carl, the later being my father. I was told that I was super close to pop pop, and I have memories of him, but his death I do not remember. She stayed single for along time, until she remarried a man named Jack Quinton. He was a tall and stoic. I am told he is the opposite of my Grandfather, but he makes my Gram happy, and that is all that counts. They are married for many years, but as time marches on, Death takes Jack from my Gram as well. My Gram is hit hard watching the second man she loves die. He wasted away for several months, until finally, he is called by God to return home. Now it is Gram's turn to meet death. She has never been a sick woman. She never really needed the doctor most of the time, until the ravages of age start there persistent drum beat. Her one ongoing medical concern is her blood pressure. It is a time bomb, and it has plagued her since her own mother passed. She has never been one to handle stress well, and it is slowly killing her. It has landed her in the hospital before, but she has always come out on top. This time however is different, as she is tired of fighting and is ready to put down the sword and go quietly into the night. I am not sure how long she has left on Earth, but death is an important part of life and should be celebrated. It is a time to remember the woman that we have all come to love and respect. I think that this is going to be hard on me, as our relationship was very close. She was a constant calming presence and just an all around cool chick. She always has time to sit and listen to a problem that I am having. She does not interject her comments, she just listens. It is nice to unload my woes to someone that will just let you vent. In turn, there is nothing that I would not do for her. I have alot of fond memories of Gram. I remember we were living in St. Pete at the time, and she had come to stay the night. She was sleeping on the pull out couch, and the sun was just starting to rise. I tiptoed over to the couch, and she saw me, held out her arms and we snuggled together watching the sun come up threw the fake bamboo blinds. She would sing to me as a child, as most grandparents do. The song she sung was "You are my Sunshine" not the whole song, just the hook, but I came to love that song. I am going to miss my Gram when she passes, but I know that she does not want to just exist, she has never just existed. She lived. As this final chapter in her life is coming to a close, I can look back with fond memories and remember that she was the one to teach me to tie my shoes, and was always there for me, no matter how stupid I messed up. Her constant love and support have become a huge part of my life, and learning to live without her is going to be a very unwelcoming reality in the coming future! I pray that her passing is quick and painless. Father, let her retain the dignity she maintained through out life.