The Butterfly Effect

Three weeks ago, one of my coworkers gave me (along with several others) a monarch caterpillar to care for while it embarked on its journey to become a butterfly. I took it home, watched it munch down on milkweed plants for a few days, and then form a chrysalis. For ten days it did nothing but hang there; then yesterday morning a beautiful, giant orange butterfly emerged. This morning we set it out into nature. It waved an antenna and then fluttered away.

I spent a good deal of time researching monarchs during the chrysalis phase, and I learned a great deal: that they shed their skin and the chrysalis is underneath, that they only eat milkweed when they're caterpillars, and that those little caterpillars are feces-making machines. I am not joking -- they poop. A lot.

But the most amazing thing I did learn was that monarchs go through four generations every year. The first three all hatch, eat, transform, lay more eggs, and then die -- all within a two-month time-span. But the last generation, born in late August / early September, is special. They break that short-cycle and migrate to Mexico for the winter. There, they enjoy the fine beaches, cuisine, and everything else the exciting central American country has to offer. Well, no: they hibernate, for six to eight months. Then they fly back to their homes, lay eggs, and the cycle continues.

Evolution at it's best! And I am sure that it would be a very fascinating story, to discover why caterpillars ended up this way. But for me, the monarch has come to symbolize transformation; I am sure it has symbolized this to many people over many eons. But it hits home in a special way for me, having gone through my own metamorphosis recently. On top of learning about evolution, seeing a miniature version of it was a fairly emotional experience. I think that the monarch will forever hold a place in my heart; and may very well be my new favorite insect (it used to be the pillbug).

It’s almost enough to make me believe in god again.

LOL, just kidding. Hooray science!

Until next Monday,

Frank

Patriot Games

First, this: making this post was a very difficult decision. The topic strays somewhat away from my usual anti-religious rhetoric and into the arena of politics. The subject matter is still, over a decade later, a painful spot; so I apologize in advance if I cause offense -- this is not my goal. My goal is to take offense this time.

This Thursday is the thirteenth anniversary of the September 11th terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center, Pentagon, and Flight 93. "Patriot Day," as it is now officially called, was designated as a national day of remembrance in December of 2001. It was signed into law by George W. Bush, who also signed into law the Patriot Act earlier that fall. Sheesh, what was with this guy and the word "patriot"?

While I do agree that it was a most horrific example of what humanity is capable of doing to itself, I hold the opinion that calling it "Patriot Day" is a misnomer and a disservice to our country.

For the majority of the last thirteen years, I have asked many why the government chose the term "patriot" -- and no one has yet given a reasonable answer. Usually I just receive a shrug and an "I don't know." So what, exactly, is a patriot? And who, exactly, were the patriots the day was named for?

According to Merriam-Webster, a patriot is "a person who loves and strongly supports or fights for his or her country."

In the great dance of events that occurred on September 11th, there were only five "categories" of people. In descending order of active involvement they are:

1. The bystanders (you and me and the families of the victims)
2. The victims
3. Those who tried to retake Flight 93
4. The government and rescue workers
5. The terrorists

So which of these categories fit the definition of a patriot?

It could not be the bystanders, as they were powerless to do anything. The victims were everyday citizens who just showed up to work or boarded the flights. The valiant passengers and crew of Flight 93 were fighting for their lives, not their country. And the government and rescue workers were probably more concerned with responding to the unforeseen and horrific tragedy (and the cost of life and property) than being patriotic.

That leaves just one category: the terrorists. 

The true patriots of Patriot Day are those who, by instruction of a call to martyrdom, entered our country. They are those who took flying lessons, who snuck weapons on board at least three flights and hijacked them. And who, I am sure, shouted praises to their god as they murdered thousands.

Is it blasphemy that I should equate the actions of those terrorists with patriotism? I do not think so. I am certain that they considered themselves patriots of their extremist ideals.

"Terrorism against America deserves to be praised because it was a response to injustice, aimed at forcing America to stop its support for Israel, which kills our people... We say that the end of the United States is imminent, whether Bin Laden or his followers are alive or dead, for the awakening of the Muslim umma (nation) has occurred." Osama Bin Laden, 12/27/2001

It is apparent that they were actively instigating war against us as a response to our support of Israel. Bin Laden equates his movement with a nation. Certainly the ideal with regards to these extremists is to destroy and conquer. And the hate continues even to this day: the successor to Al Qaeda, ISIS, dominates today’s news with its terrorist tactics.

(PS: I am not so naive to think that America has not brought some of this punishment upon itself.)

In my mind it does disservice to the citizens of this country and to its armed forces, to continue to call September 11th "Patriot Day," because we are giving credence to what those extremists did by way of justification through their religion. I am sure, America, that our Lord and Savior Jesus (and his mother, for you Catholics) is crying over our country unwittingly giving props to a terrorist god. 

It's just another reason why religion causes more harm than good, if you ask me. Well, you didn't but you know I'm going to give you my opinion anyways. Think I'm being harsh about this? Just wait until Columbus Day...

Until next Monday,

Frank

Mental Health

Three weeks ago, Robin Williams took his own life. It was a tragic end to a unique life and a brilliant career, but there has been a slight glimmer of positivity because of it: people are, for the first time, openly and unabashedly coming forward and discussing their own mental health issues, their struggles, and their thoughts of suicide. Perhaps Robin's death need not be in vain -- perhaps it can be the catalyst our nation needs to really start openly addressing mental health.

In an earlier entry I wrote about the suicidal thoughts which occupied my mind prior to abandoning my religious beliefs, and how those thoughts disappeared. For the most part, this is still true; yet every so often they still pop up. They aren't as strong, not by a long shot; but they are very cavalier, and this concerns me.

I used to view this life and its problems as temporary, and that when one died one spent the rest of eternity in heaven or hell. Life, therefore, was not altogether precious -- it was just a necessary step to reach our real destination. As a religious individual, it was fear of hell which stayed my hand from suicide.

Now, since I don't believe in an eternal destination, I see life as unique and important and fleeting. It is precious. But some small part of me struggles now with the finality of death. Why should I continue living, if I'm just going to end up as worm food? And, of course, the answer is because life is unique and important and fleeting. But the part of me that struggles seems to have a "devil may care" attitude and I'm concerned that I may do something stupid on a whim. So I decided to seek some help.

It's been 14 years since I last visited Susie, my psychologist. I went through a very rough period in my life back in 2000, her help and guidance impacted me in a wonderful way -- so naturally I was brimming with excitement when she responded that she could fit me in to her schedule.

Meeting with her last week caused me to explore many things in my past that I had forgotten... but nothing floored me so much as her impression during my last sessions with her, as I was beginning to join the Apostolic Pentecostal church.

"I'm going to lose him," is what she told me she was thinking back then. She could not understand how a rational human could lose himself to a religion. I laughed! "That is exactly what happened," I told her. I did lose myself. And all of my friends. And respect from most of my family. And part of my mind, all because of a fundamentalist religion. "Now that I've left religion I can see things so clearly," I said.

I bring up this story for three reasons. First, because I don't want to be silent about my mental health issues. We need to talk about these things. We need to be honest and open. People need to know that they are not alone, and telling your story is the best way to accomplish that.

Secondly, I want to draw attention to the fact that suddenly finding yourself without a soul, or an afterlife, or a big eye in the sky watching your every move can be frightening. It can make one feel lost and alone. And quite frankly, it is difficult to deal with the idea that one will just cease to exist when the time comes, as opposed to what one was misled to believe for decades. But there are lots of us out there -- those who have had to come to terms with this dilemma. I can personally tell you that there is no shame in seeking professional help, or even just someone to talk to. You are not alone, and you do not have to be.

Finally, I want to point out the barbaric attitude that seems to permeate religion with regards to the field of mental health. I certainly cannot speak for everyone, but for myself, all throughout parochial school -- high school, in particular -- I was told that psychologists and psychiatrists are agents of the devil (except, of course for the Christian ones because they adhere to biblical principles). In church they had a filthy reputation of catering to the mind instead of the soul, of telling one what one wants to hear, of not falling in line with the idea that god's ways are concrete and everyone should just serve and obey. This is all invented nonsense in an attempt, I truly believe, to keep Christians under subjection to their religion. If one starts visiting a secular counsellor, one may start using one's brain and start thinking for one's self.

Meanwhile, in the church, I was told that all I had to do was pray to god for the healing of my mind and my past and my emotions. God would provide. And since god's ways are higher, I should just be patient and wait for a response. God will do it in his own time. Maybe I should just pray harder and have more faith.

Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; and yet I say to you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. If then God so clothes the grass, which today is in the field and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will He clothe you, O you of little faith? And do not seek what you should eat or what you should drink, nor have an anxious mind. For all these things the nations of the world seek after, and your Father knows that you need these things. (Luke 12:27-30 NKJV)

When looked at on the surface, this hopeful scripture demonstrates the beauty of god caring for creation. To me, it certainly illustrates Jesus' free-loading hippy attitude. But dig deeper, flower child, and you will find a very nefarious concept: that you should rely on god for everything. Why do I say nefarious? Because where do you draw the line? How far do you let yourself be reliant on something which may not even be there?

We are told to call upon god for help. And when that help doesn't arrive? Naturally, it adds to the issue. Sometimes the pastor or other church member will offer counsel. But is this counsel grounded in psychology or in theology? In the former, then there is hope. But in the latter there is nothing but more hardship.

I look back with pity on my Lutheran high school experience. How many nights did I cry myself to sleep; the mental anguish of a gay teenager who is told by his religion that god hates gay people, who would cry out to his god for succor, whose recompense was nothing but silence? The sideways remarks from the faculty and staff of the school. The public outing by someone I stupidly took into my confidence. The scriptures read, the verses quoted, the videos and books telling us that homosexuals are hell-bound. And so that 17-year-old took a bottle of pills and laid down one night with a note beside his bed consisting of a single line: "I apologize for the inconvenience."

Thankfully, I was not the brightest bulb in the chandelier when it came to pharmaceuticals, and suffered no worse than a night's deep sleep.

I am the first to admit that my memory is not the best, but it seems like every single time I have had an issue and brought it to someone in a position of authority in the church (or Lutheran school), they tried to affect change within me to bring me in line with biblical concepts or interpretation. Instead of, you know, trying to help me deal with the issue I would instead be presented with the miracle cure of... god's word. And always the promise of hellfire looming in the distance if I didn't repent of my sinner ways and snap to.

Perhaps that is why I have such fond memories of Susie and such horrid memories of church figures when it comes to counselling. When I asked her if she thought she could help, she told me, "I want to give you hope."

That's a hell of a lot more than I ever got from my religion -- the very institution which prides itself on how much it helps the downtrodden. And that is sad.

Until next Monday,

Frank

The Grand Architect

At the beginning of July, I subscribed to The Humanist -- an online magazine and resource for people interested in secular humanism (a life philosophy which embraces ethics and morals without religion), and noticed that they have a weekly advice column called "The Ethical Dilemma." Well, as it turns out, I did have such a dilemma and decided to submit it; whereupon I was told by the columnist, Joan Reisman-Brill, that she was excited to have such a question and that it would appear sometime in the near future.

And so I waited, with baited breath. And finally, this past Friday, it was featured! And so now I am finally able to discuss the issue. Here is the question:

I find myself in a precarious position. I began joining the Freemasons before I de-converted from Christianity. I find myself teetering between whether I am an atheist or an agnostic theist (one who believes that there may be a god, but that's about it). The Freemasons, while respectful of other religious beliefs, are overtly Judeo-Christian and do not tolerate atheists.

Now that I am a full-on member, I really am enjoying my time with this fraternal organization, its members, history, and structure. But part of me feels like I am "in the closet" and so I'm not quite sure how I feel. Have you any good advice for someone in such an odd spot?

The response I received was very well thought out and provided some good insight:

I really don't know much about the mostly-male and secretive Freemasons, but the Freemason website says, "You believe in a Supreme Being--no atheist can become a Mason--but we are not concerned with theological distinctions or your particular religious beliefs." You were still a believer when you declared your belief in a supreme being, and even now, as you waver between atheist and agnostic theist, you retain a sliver of belief. So it sounds like you're good, with or without god. (For readers not familiar with Freemasonry, check out the segment about it on CBS Sunday Morning.)

Could you discreetly probe what your group's policy is toward members who (hypothetically, of course) lose their belief sometime after they are already members? Would such a person be honor-bound to leave the group, or would the group be compelled to eject such a person, even if he is in every other respect in good standing?

Regardless of the answer, if you are enjoying the organization, why not keep enjoying it and keep your doubts to yourself? The website states that Freemasons do not discuss religion, so now that you are long past the pledge stage, questions about your current state of belief shouldn't even arise.

This may be naive, but perhaps after you've been a member for some time, even if you were to fully embrace atheism, there might not be any repercussions if your non-belief became known.

And probably even more naive, perhaps one day you might lead a movement to alter the by-laws to include atheists. After all, it is called "Free" masons.

I take the advice to heart, and believe that it will help me in my journey with the Masons. And something else which will help me: the overwhelming response received to the article by readers on the website and on Facebook!

True, there were many negative remarks, many off topic, many discussing and debating the details and conspiracies of Masonry. I was expecting those. I was, however, not expecting the number of Masons who expressed that atheists / agnostics should not be excluded or disfellowshipped. And what really floored me is that several Masons responded who are, themselves, atheist / agnostic!

"I am a Mason. I would note that Masons do not require a belief in a specific definition of Supreme Being. That leaves a lot of room. Most physicists hold that something preceded creation; they call it the laws of physics. You say the laws of physics; I say Supreme Being."

"...realize that while you may be the only atheist in your Lodge, you are not the only one in Freemasonry. We just don't discuss it."

"The earliest Masons were pretty much all freethinkers and deists."

"I am a 32 degree Mason and see no problem with atheists in the Lodge."

Just a small sampling of the more positive comments made.

To those not in the know, the Free and Accepted Masons are an overtly religious organization (as are the higher levels of York and Scottish rites). I fully anticipate that one day I will most likely be excommunicated because of my increasing outspokenness against organized religion and the ignorance it propagates -- especially as I continue to work toward providing resources and help for questioning Christians and recent deconverts.

My own lodge's Worshipful Master took me aside the other day (knowing that I am teetering with religious belief) and told me that he knows of at least one atheist in a sister lodge, and that some people know and others don't. He survives by keeping his mouth shut around the brethren -- a hint given me not as a warning but as a survival tactic. My WM knows me, and knows that my heart is in it (even if my soul is not). And for that I am truly grateful.

Of all the positive comments posted on Facebook, this one was by far the most important to me:

"I'm a Freemason and I don't believe in anything supernatural. I don't believe in a personal god, but I also don't have a problem with using the term 'god' to refer to the totality of the laws of the universe, which govern all things."

Please indulge me as I contemplate this for a moment.

In the Masons, we talk about the "Grand Architect of the Universe" -- hyperbole for "god." And this is where it gets uncomfortable for me, because I'm not even sure that there is such a being. We are asked, when we take oaths, "in whom do you put your trust?" Naturally, the correct response is "god."

What if "god" is a man-made concept? Then we are putting our trust in an invention, and then invoking that invention. There is no evidence for god, for a supernatural creator of the universe, for a spiritual being who interacts with humanity.

But there is evidence for science.

In fact, science itself is based upon reason, logic, theories, and evidence. It is based upon everything that makes up the universe. It is based upon how the universe functions. Human ingenuity and spirit drive science. And science drives human ingenuity and spirit. It is a beautiful cycle, made even more majestic and potent by the fact that science will continue on, even without human interaction.

I can completely get behind that. In whom do I put my trust? In physics, math, biology, history, evolution, atoms, quarks, relativity, stars, planets, space, oceans, mountains, rain, hydrogen, sunsets, gravity, air, moon dust, spacecraft, black holes, bacteria, reason, and on and on. In science. In god.

Until next Monday,

Frank

PS: I am not expressing a belief in pantheism -- that everything is god and god is everything. Nor am I proffering that science is, itself, a deity. I am simply expounding on "using the term 'god' to refer to the totality of the laws of the universe."

Evolution

Yesterday I finished reading a fun little book called "Then Why Do I have Toenails", written by Thom Phelps. Originally started as a letter to a fanatical Christian friend (an interesting story in and of itself), it proved to be an interesting and amusing foray into the mind of an atheist.

True, it wasn't the best-written book I've read this year (though I have certainly read worse), but it did make its point, and made it well. Plus it gave me a new phrase for my repertoire: "C&E Christian" – a Christian who attends church only twice a year, on Christmas and Easter. I believe he used this in a similar way to my own "CINO" (Christian In Name Only).

The question of toenails really only plays a very small role in the book. I believe the title was chosen specifically to cause inquiry and curiosity; on that particular level, it worked. Why, the reader is forced to ask, do people believe in creationism when animals and plants and humans have vestigial organs?

I spent a few minutes Googling today, to see what bits and pieces may be left over from the evolutionary process. As it turns out, there is a broad spectrum of vestigial organs across this planet, far too many to be conveniently explained away by creationism.

In humans alone, there are male nipples, toenails, wisdom teeth, ear muscles, sinuses, the appendix, the coccyx, part of the large intestine, and apparently a little bit of a third eyelid. We also have vestigial reflexes like goosebumps and babies grasping anything placed in their palms.

In the animal kingdom, you can find flightless birds, fish with feet, snakes with pelvises, blind species who still have eyes, or my personal favorite: whales with leg bones.

Before my deconversion from Christianity, I was a die-hard creationist. I believed in the literal six-day creation as outlined in Genesis, I believed that evolution was a lie, and I believed that schools teaching evolution should also be required to teach Intelligent Design as an acceptable alternative.

But now that I've removed the filters of religion and have started to question the motives of evolutionary scientists versus religious pundits (I realize now that science is not trying to hide truth, but discover it; whereas religion is trying to hide discovery under the guise of truth), I see and understand that we are all part of a huge, growing, changing system. It is awesome, and amazing, and beautiful, and deadly, and scary – all at the same time!

Why are so many fundamentalist Christians diametrically opposed to the idea of evolution?

For starters, they just don't have the correct information. One of the many problems with church hierarchy is that one person (or a small group of select people) are in charge of dictating the information their parishioners and parochial-school students receive. In most cases, those parishioners and students simply accept the information given to them without much, if any, further research because they trust the supplier of the information is telling the truth or is knowledgeable (this is called the Argument from Authority). The problem here is obvious: if incorrect information is being disseminated, and no one is fact-checking, then the cycle of ignorance continues.

But the major reason why fundie Christians reject evolution is because they are literalists, which means they absolutely believe the creation myth (in other words, they are die-hard creationists), and since creation and evolution are mutually exclusive and contradictory viewpoints, and they are fundamentalist, they choose religion over science.

From the fundamentalist point of view, evolution brings death into the world before sin; but the bible indicates death is the punishment for sin, so no death could have existed before Adam and Eve ate the fruit. And anyway, if the bible is lying about this, at the very beginning of the book, then what else could it be lying about? No, creationism must be true because otherwise the entire book is suspect and we cannot have our faith called into question, science and reason be damned.

The fact of the matter is this: science is continuously giving answers based upon evidence. If the evidence contradicts what is known, science is smart enough to try to figure out why and flexible enough to change its precepts. It isn't afraid to say "I don't know" because it always follows up with "but I will try to find out."

Religion, on the other hand, cannot give answers based upon evidence: only faith. If evidence contradicts faith, it is usually the evidence which is the first to be chucked out. Christianity rarely changes its precepts, which is why there are so many denominations: if one does not agree, one leaves and starts one's own church. Well at least the religious are not above admitting lack of knowledge, but there is almost always the caveat: "we cannot know the mind of god" or something similar. 

Given these things, science will always triumph over religion. On the topic of this post, science can nearly perfectly explain vestigial organs by evolution, creationism cannot. In fact, here are the two most common responses used by religion on this topic:

1. The organs (and reflexes) in question initially had an important function, but have lost that functionality over time.

2. Science has not yet discovered the function or purpose of those organs (and reflexes).

Please indulge me for a moment as I point out the hypocrisy of these two responses. The first is using evolution to disprove evolution. The second is using the scientific process to disprove the scientific process. It is becoming increasingly the case that Christians are abandoning the literalist interpretation of Genesis and embracing the scientific understanding of evolution.

I hope the trend continues. People need to wake up and come to terms with how the universe actually works, god or no. And when they do? Who knows... perhaps one day religion itself will also be vestigial.

Until next Monday,

Frank

Quotes

Today is a very tragic day.

Robin Williams was found dead of an apparent suicide, and I am completely heartbroken. Here is what I posted on Facebook earlier:

I mean, I'm just absolutely floored. I keep hoping that it is some elaborate prank. I would have NEVER guessed Robin Williams - the GREAT Robin Williams - would have not only suffered from depression, but to the point of actually exterminating his brilliant and unique life.

I could cope with it being an accident, a murder, a heart attack; but not suicide. I can't help but feel we have really lost one of the greats here. I mean, just wow.

We've had record-breaking flooding here in and around Detroit, to the point that I probably won't be able to get to work tomorrow (thankfully I can work from home when necessary). Here is a picture of the expressway only 2 miles from my residence:

And another from near downtown Detroit:

I have a full day of training on Wednesday, on a product I don't even use (though, in theory, I will be using at some indeterminate date in the future). And I have a big project due next week, the shoulders on which my future career partly rests.

This is all too much. To be honest, I don't have the energy to write a proper post today. So instead, I will grace you with a few quotes I have been saving for such a rainy day as this.

Share, and enjoy.

I contend that we are both atheists. I just believe in one fewer god than you do. When you understand why you dismiss all the other possible gods, you will understand why I dismiss yours. (Stephen F. Roberts)

Is he willing to prevent evil but not able? Then he is impotent. Is he able but not willing? Then he is malevolent. Is he both able and willing? Whence then is evil? Is he neither able nor willing? Then why call him god? (Epicurus)

That which can be asserted without evidence, can be dismissed without evidence (Christopher Hitchens)

Until next Monday,
Frank

Shocking

This past week my sister and her girlfriend loaned me their copy of "Religulous," a documentary by Bill Maher. (The name is a portmanteau of "religious" and "ridiculous.") Many people know that I am not a Maher fan, simply because he can be a complete dick with such little effort. Yet I agreed to watch it.

He did tone down his normally dickish tendencies for the documentary -- for the most part. There were a few moments I found myself yelling at the television for Maher being slightly unfair to his interviewees.

But for the most part, I did find it to be a rather refreshing (if not comedic) look into just how ridiculous religious adherents can be sometimes. His documentary did a fairly decent job at showcasing the (often willing) ignorance of those who accept as literal, the teachings of their holy books.

It was slightly embarrassing, because I used to be like that.

A few weeks prior, I watched an interesting documentary from 1972 called "Marjoe." The crew followed around one-time child preacher Marjoe Gortner (the second portmanteau of this post: "Mary" and "Joseph") as he engaged in one last hurrah on the pentecostal circuit -- he didn't want to swindle any longer and wanted to expose how charismatic evangelists manipulate their audiences into parting ways with their wallets.

The songs were familiar; the preaching styles, the repetitive words, the healings, the dancing, the speaking in tongues -- all familiar to me, as I had converted to a pentecostal branch of Christianity in 2000. To be honest, my jaw dropped several times as I realized that I had, in the pentecostal church, been prey to the same exact methods Marjoe was employing.

Speaking of jaw-dropping, I just finished Christopher Hitchens' book "god Is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything." I was shocked. I was just absolutely, horrifyingly shocked at how the Big 3 (Judaism, Christianity, and Islam) have behaved throughout history, all by way of justification of their beliefs.

(Side note: I discovered through this book and through videos on YouTube that I absolutely adore Hitchens and was subsequently grieved to learn of his untimely passing a few years ago.)

This education, which I received over the last three weeks, has caused me to change my tune: I no longer believe that religion is necessarily a good or innocuous thing. It had its place, eons ago, before the human mind had enough compiled data to be able to see what is going on; but in today's world it is a vestigial mental process. For the sake of humanity, we must let it go; if we don't, we will end up destroying ourselves.

When confronted with the ignorance, with the manipulation, with the atrocities, the usual answers are "It was part of god's plan," or "God's ways are higher," or "They weren't a TRUE Christian," or "They weren't following god's word," or "That was so long ago, it doesn't matter today," or the like. Glossing over a ruinous past by brushing it aside. Shirking any responsibility for the religion's report card.

And yet, those things did happen. And on some level they are still happening today -- a topic upon which I plan to expound in a future post.

I grieve that I spent so many years of my life buying into what was being sold over the pulpit. I am ashamed that, as a Christian, I did not read my own holy book to discover for myself the true nature of the god of the bible; and I'm even more ashamed that I glossed over the atrocities therein and those committed by Christians throughout human history by justifying the actions as being part of some grand design of a loving god. I am an intelligent human being, I have a brain and deductive reasoning skills, and I am guilty. Shame on me.

And shame on those who continue following, just like I did, without questioning.

Until next Monday,

Frank