Scumbag Musings Of A Subhuman 2c566x

S C U M B A G: musings of a subhuman

The Amazing Atheist

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The Amazing Atheist

SCUMBAG:

musings of a subhuman

_______________________________________________

Written By:

The Amazing Atheist Illustrated By

The Scum of the Earth -3-

The Amazing Atheist

Table of Contents Foreword by Fakesagan………………………………………………….………….8 A Brief Letter To My Fans……………………………………………….…..…….12 RELIGION ………………………………………………………………………..……17 IMMORAL CUNTS FOR CHRIST A DANGEROUS IDEA? CHRISTIANS ARE STUPID, EVIL, CHILD-ABS ISLAM IS LAME CONVERSION COUNTER: 0 AND STEADY CHILDREN’S LETTERS TO SATAN "FAGGOT" THE "GAY GOD" ARGUMENT QUESTIONS CHRISTIANS HATE EDUCATION …………………………………………………………………………..45 HOW TO GET LEFT THE FUCK ALONE HOW TO WRITE A BOOK HOW TO SEEM SMART HOW TO SUCCEED ON YOUTUBE SOCIETY………………………………………………………………………………..69 EVERYTHING’S FINE THE OUTSIDER GENERATION NOBODY ‘08 FUCK RESPONSIBILITY CONSERVATIVES HATE AMERICA SEX………………………………………………………………………………………89 RAPE SURVIVOR CHATROOM SURVIVOR IT’S SMALL. GET OVER IT

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The Amazing Atheist TITS vs. ASS: THE FINAL SHOWDOWN PHILOSOPHY………………………………………………………………………..99 ILL LOGIC The God(dess) speaks OBSERVATIONS, INTROSPECTIONS & APHORISMS RAMBLINGS…………………………………………………………………………115 GOLDEN ARCH NEMESIS RATED XXX BIG BLACK DICKS INTERNET CELEBRITY IS A FATE WORSE THAN HELL STUPID BULLSHIT THAT I FUCKING HATE AMUSING ALTERNATIVES TO ABORTION I WANT TO KILL MYSELF WHEN I GROW UP SCUMBAG…………………………………………………………………………….135 The Final Musing

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The Amazing Atheist This work is dedicated to FakeSagan/Hardcase, for being exactly like me and yet my complete opposite (and for amusing me with his frequent death threats). It is also dedicated to Britt Marble— the only person who has ever met me. *** Apart from those two brilliant souls, I’d like to thank a number of those who have shaped me into what I am (for better or for worse):

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Mom, for trying to understand. Dad, for ing my lazy ass. Scotty, for being my best friend. Stevie, for loving me more than I deserve. Cookie, for making me laugh. Sheri, for allowing my penis inside her on a few occasions. Steve, for trying his best. JD, for being wise in his insanity. Nick, for making my childhood interesting. Natalie, for thinking of others before herself. Zac, for his inspiring paintings. Cody, for his beautiful photography. Nate, for his tireless cruelty. Mr. Taylor, for being the biggest asshole I ever met. Jesse, for being the first person I ever trusted. Thank you all.

This is where you’d normally find copyright information, but I’m too fucking lazy to bother with all that jazz—and with the advent of the internet, it would be too much of a pain in the ass to try to stop you from swiping this shit and reusing it anyway. I’ll just ask really politely that you not do so and hope that that’s enough.

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The Amazing Atheist

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The Amazing Atheist

FOREWORD By Fakesagan/Hardcase Yes, I know. You paid the ticket price to read The Amazing Atheist, not fakesagan.

In all honesty, I think The Amazing

Atheist should've paid you to read this book because of all the money he's saving on therapy. In any case, don’t worry. I've never been a fan of lengthy forewords, so I'll keep this one brief. Whenever my thoughts turn to The Amazing Atheist, a quote of Dr. Johnson's (which is more commonly attributed to the great Hunter S. Thompson) springs instantly to mind:

”He who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man” -Samuel Johnson In spite of his eternal refrain of "I don’t give a shit," I can see in The Amazing Atheist someone who has been acutely incapable of getting rid of the pain of being a man, and has made himself ever more beastly because of it. I was once asked if I could for The Amazing Atheist's popularity, and in my stumbling attempt, I merely cited his candor. Public issions of ephebophiliac urges, bizarre sexual submission fetishes and wild, incendiary vitriol towards all manner of groups and individuals are all behaviors which make the average person uncomfortable—yet we crave them. We salivate like hungry beggars for the table scraps of honesty

which

The

Amazing

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Atheist

flings

about

so

The Amazing Atheist

unabashedly. We crave this intimacy with another's mind so badly because we are starving—deprived, in our alienated and image-conscious modern society, of the precious glimpses into the true thoughts and feelings of another human being which remind us that we are not alone. Like all great artists, The Amazing Atheist stands naked on the stage. But The Amazing Atheist's candor s for only half of his popularity. He is also an altruist whose heart bleeds pure comion. I can already hear you laughing. Shut the fuck up. I've often thought of The Amazing Atheist as one of the most profoundly misunderstood individuals it's ever been my pleasure to come across. His true thoughts and inward motivations seem so glaringly obvious to me that I derive no end of amusement from the seeming inability of everyone else on the planet earth to recognize them. Shall I provide an example directly from the pages of this very book? In “Rape Survivor Chatroom Survivor,” The Amazing Atheist initially strikes us as an unfathomably cold and insensitive monster. But when we pierce beneath the surface, what we discover is an infinite well of comion and concern for the rape victims he first appeared to be sadistically ridiculing. The Amazing Atheist demands of said victims, "how many failed relationships are you going to blame on a single violation of your personal space?" it is clear (to me anyway) that he's horrified by the perpetual cycles of emotional distress, guilt and interpersonal estrangement which can result from a single, callous act of violation. And, being the lunatic pragmatist that

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he is, he's more than willing to scandalize and shock us numb in order to help even one victim break that cycle. The Amazing Atheist is not content to coddle our delicate sensibilities or preconceived notions of the sort of polite decorum which must be maintained when handling rape victims. He has watched in impotent dismay as therapy, groups, and rape-specific chatrooms fail miserably to rid the victims in question of their feelings of powerlessness and worthlessness and he's ready to try more drastic methods which may be akin to what is known as "tough love." He's willing to make himself the focal point of our resentment so long as it empowers us to examine our own lives and begin healing ourselves. The Amazing Atheist is a modern shaman. So, what should you, the reader, expect when you finish this foreword and begin the first chapter? Well, you should expect a book which reads like a transcript of one of The Amazing Atheist's youtube videos. If you enjoy his videos, you'll certainly enjoy his book. If you don’t enjoy his videos, this may not be the book for you. However, that shouldn’t stop you from pretending to read it at work or in a public park in the vain hope that someone may notice and, having been so impressed by your literacy, start up a conversation with you. Then you and your new friend will fall in love, have children and live happily ever after—all because of this book. That's really how life works. The meek and timid are rewarded by fortune everyday. Just sit silent, pay your taxes, and keep hoping. Eventually all of your dreams will come true.

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As for my part I will say that, besides the solemn honor which I feel in having been chosen to introduce The Amazing Atheist's first foray into the literary world, the best part of writing this foreword was having received an advance copy of the manuscript on which to base it. Well . . . at least that's what I told The Amazing Atheist—that I needed to read the book first in order to do my foreword justice. In truth, I could've simply bullshitted my entire way through this little introduction the same way I do through life, but I wanted the smug satisfaction of knowing that I could get my hot little hands on what all of The Amazing Atheist's rabid fans have been drooling for prior to the official release date. I'm not one for spoilers so all I’ll tell you is that this book has it all. The Amazing Atheist has splattered his tortured psyche onto it's pages with all the maniacal glee that he does in his videos. The writing is irreverent, profane, hilarious, insightful and, at times, heartbreaking. And, whether you're an irer or a hater, you are sure to benefit from this unique opportunity

to

glimpse

the

fantastically

fractured

inner

workings of a mind so unique. So let us waste no further time and dig right in because you, The Amazing Atheist and I shall, all three of us, be dead and gone before we know it. amacing athiest u fucken rock! -hardcase

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A BRIEF LETTER TO MY FANS “You know, I thought you were a decent guy until [you insulted me]; now I know you’re no different than the dickheads you rant about. Hell, if you’re like this to someone whose nice to you, I don’t want to know what you’re like to your haters.”

-rdawkinsbulldog, youtube

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It’s fairly safe to say that I’m an asshole. I make no secret of my petty and spiteful nature, nor do I feel any inclination to improve my personality in the near future. In this age, whether you’re a famous movie star with millions of fans, or just some guy who rants on youtube for an audience of a few thousand, people build illusions of you in their minds, convince themselves that they know and understand you; worse, they come around to the belief that, because they are ive of the work you produce, you are in some way obligated to them. I owe you nothing. You don’t watch my videos out of some sense of charity—you watch them to be amused, enlightened or perhaps even just to mock me. Even now, I owe you nothing. “But I bought your book!” you protest in your nasally whine, tears oozing from the dull cattle-like orbs of your eyes. Yes, you gave me money and, in return, I gave you a book. Transaction over. Feel free to send me anything you like: your “constructive criticisms”, lengthy letters about your personal problems, your poetry, your artwork—whatever. Send me these things until you cum from the sheer joy of it, but do not expect me to care or to respond. Sometimes I will, and other times I won’t. It depends on my mood. Now, if you happen to be an attractive female who wishes to pose naked for me, I want you to know that my inbox is always wide open to receive any number of pictures you may choose to fill it with. This is not at all contingent upon my

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mood—I’ve never in my life not been in the mood to see a nice set of tits or a cute ass. And guys, it’s okay to take pictures of your girlfriend while she sleeps and send them to me as well. I don’t mind at all. No matter how busy my schedule becomes, you have my solemn vow that I will make time to view photos of your sleeping, unsuspecting girlfriend who has no idea what a scumbag her boyfriend happens to be. In fact, it doesn’t even have to be your girlfriend. If you’ve got a sister or a mom or a neighbor that you want to send me pictures of, that’s all good too. For that matter, the pictures don’t even have to be of girls. A lot of guys these days are pretty effeminate. If I take my glasses off, I can’t even tell the difference. I’m really not picky. I mean, if you could just send me close up pictures of your knees pressed together to kind of look like an ass, I can work with that. I’m the MacGuyver of jerking off to things. Give me a flashlight, some yarn, a box of raisins and a tongue depressor and I’ll figure out a way to fap to it. For instance, that time we went Tijuana and saw the donkey show? I mean, I knew that chick was going to blow the Donkey, but I didn’t know she was actually going to let it stick it’s spongy, half-formed-looking phallus inside her asshole! how afterwards she blasted shit and donkey cum halfway across the bar from her gaping sphincter and a big chunk of her corn-laden scat flew into your open mouth and you puked all over the guy next to you, causing half the bar to start

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The Amazing Atheist

fighting and the other half to start puking and before we knew it the whole floor was carpeted with puke and cum and shit and blood? I still managed to rub one out that night! I tell you. . . . Wait. You’re not the one that went with me to Tijuana, are you? Shit. Awkward. The Amazing Atheist, July 29th, 2007

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Wherein I bitch about your gods.

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The Amazing Atheist

IMMORAL CUNTS FOR CHRIST I’m often asked, mostly by the pious, what happened to me to make me despise religion so much. It’s difficult—perhaps impossible—for them to conceive of the notion that I simply don’t care for their teachings. How much irrational bullshit can a human being who doesn’t measure himself as the sum of his own obedience stomach in the name of a faceless deity whose existence has never been demonstrated to even the slightest degree? The theist line of “reasoning” goes a bit like this: 1.) The creator is on our side because our book of absolute truth says so, and we know our book is accurate because it says in our book of absolute truth that our creator said that our book of absolute truth is accurate. 2.) The creator is the only barometer of morality in the universe. 3.) Even if you disagree with us, shut your heathen mouth and follow our moral directives because those who don’t believe in God have no right to criticize him or his followers. The third one is what really gets me. Theists act as if it is the place of atheists to keep silent and let them believe what they believe, entirely unimpeded. After all, religion is the source of morality! NEWSFLASH TO THEIST FUCKWITS: Letting your daughter die of cervical cancer because you were afraid that the vaccine would make her promiscuous is immoral. Teaching kids that condoms don’t work and that only abstinence will prevent STDs (bad) and pregnancy (worse) is immoral. Suicide bombings

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The Amazing Atheist

are immoral. Tax exempt status for religious institutions with massive political and social influence is immoral. Denying a person medical treatment because your God doesn’t believe in medicine is immoral. Bombing abortion clinics is immoral. Putting religious laws in front of a courthouse where everyone is supposed to be treated fairly is immoral. Telling people what they can and cannot do with/to their own bodies is immoral. Denying people of different sexual preferences the ability to enter into the same social arrangements as everyone else is immoral. Slavery is immoral. Going to the third world to indoctrinate those living in abject poverty is immoral. Genocide of those whose invisible cloud king wears a different set of boxers than yours is immoral. Crashing aircraft into buildings because your sexually repressed ass has been told that heaven is swarming with cherry-intact cunt to fuck is immoral. The idea that a woman is worth ½ of a man is immoral (it’s closer to 2/3rds). No tits on TV is, if not immoral, at least really fucking lame. Religion is where we get our morals from? Why then, at the root of every inhuman act of cowardice and degradation do we find a Bible or a Qu’ran? Why then, is the justification behind the sum of all evils, when boiled down to the naked essentials, “God said so”? Why then did the Nazi soldiers where the words “Gott Mit Uns” (GOD WITH US) on their belt buckles as they tossed Jews, gypsies and homosexuals into gas chambers to writhe and scream and choke and gasp and die? These are important questions, are they not?

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The perpetual inability of theists to satisfactorily answer these and other important questions leads me to the conclusion that a theist claiming that God is the source of all morality is akin to a dictator telling you that a nuclear arsenal is the root of all peace. The next time a theist tells you that you are trying to destroy morality, do not for a moment deny it! Instead, tell them that if their idea of morality is the garbage found in their religious texts, then you are proud to be among those working to put an end to their morals. Inform them that you believe not in God and his dark morality of guilt, suffering and repentance, but in a human morality with the virtues of happiness, justice and prosperity. Then, for good measure, tell them to go fuck themselves.

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A DANGEROUS IDEA? A friend and mentor once asked the people: is there such thing as a dangerous idea? My answer: Abso-fucking-lutely. The idea that we were created by a supreme being who can reward or punish our behavior as he sees fit and that we are aware of his nature is a dangerous idea. Some would argue that if we it that Christianity and Islam are dangerous ideas, then we have to it that Greek mythology is a dangerous idea, a notion that anyone would dismiss as patently absurd. However, in the days when the stories of Zeus and his brood were not taken as stories, but

as true s of beings of

extraordinary power, those ideas were dangerous. The stories aren’t dangerous today, simply because no one believes them. A popular idea among religious apologists is that religion is inherently good, but that evil men use it to evil means. They look upon those piles of bodies that religion has left in its wake and say, “Religion was twisted into this! That’s not what God is supposed to be about! God is supposed to be about sunshine and bumblebees and glitter and rainbows! My God would never do this sort of thing!” Forget about Lady MacBeth! These assholes think a weak little chorus of “that’s not what I believe” is all that it takes to get their hands clean. Sorry, you degenerate jerk-offs, you don’t get off the hook that easy. Belief in God has inarguably led to many times the number of deaths that the atomic weapons dropped on

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Hiroshima and Nagasaki did, but can you imagine anyone talking about atomic weapons the same way that they talk about religion? “Well, in the right hands the bomb is a tool for peace and love, it’s only when it’s misused that bad things happen.” The truth is that religions, like those bombs, are only good at creating carnage. “But religion brings people together!” Yeah. So what? The Ku Klux Klan brings people together too. That doesn’t make it a great, morally upstanding organization. NAMBLA brings people together, doesn’t it? Let them have a few kids! What the big deal? New studies show that most 6-year-olds like a dick in their ass! As far as I’m concerned, people are better off apart. Togetherness is vastly overrated. The next time you hear togetherness extolled as a great virtue, gently remind the person blathering that nonsense that they are a filthy communist and that, as of yet, no single person acting on their own has ever committed genocide, unless you count Gargamel’s efforts to wipe out the Smurfs. “But religion gives money to charity!” Poor people need food, clothing and shelter—not bibles. One thing is for sure to anyone who has ever seen the inside of Mother (Fucking) Teresa’s “Home For The Dying” in Calcutta— the money wasn’t being used to help the sick. Maybe it went to buying more statues for the pope’s house over in Rome. Pat Robertson collects sports cars. Jerry Falwell died a rich man.

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Church charity is not charity, unless you consider the man at the pulpit with the huge hardon for the boys in the choir to be “needy.” The only this he really needs is a prison sentence—not for raping the boys, mind you. That’s the least of his crimes. He should be arrested for exploiting the terminally gullible. “But . . .” But nothing. Fuck off.

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CHRISTIANS ARE STUPID, EVIL, CHILD-ABS. According to the Bible, God created the Earth in six days. The seventh day doesn’t count—all he did was rest. Do you get paid for the days your spend at the bordello? No? Then why does God get credit for lazing about on his almighty cosmic ass? Fuck that. It took six days. According to calculations by Charles Lineweaver and Daniel Grether at the University of New South Wales there are about 100 billion stars with planets in our Galaxy. That means that, with 100 billion galaxies in the known universe, there are at least 10 trillion planets out there. Do you see where I’m going with this? How did a God who took six days to create our pathetic little planet do the same trick 10 trillion times since then? It would have taken God 60 trillion days to create every planet in the universe. That’s 164,383,561,643 years of worth work, give or take a few months. From the genealogies found in the Bible, Christian ‘scholars’ have deduced that the Earth is between six and tenthousand years old. “Well,” says the ever crafty fundie, “maybe God created those other planets first, to prepare the universe for us!” Nice try, christsucker. “In the beginning God created the Heaven and the Earth.”

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Genesis 1:1 “That doesn’t prove anything!” further protests our missing link between man and tree stump, “It says he created the heaven first. The heaven could include those planets.” Heaven is a place of unending bliss, ? If those planets were part of God’s heaven, then going to Heaven would be as easy as building the USS Enterprise. “Translation error!” But . . . “TRANSLATION ERROR! JESUS DIED FOR YOUR SINS!” Ah, translation errors—the last refuge of a thoroughly defeated Christian. When you hear the words “translation error,” pat yourself on the back. You’ve just won. Every argument with a fundamentalist Christian goes through six basic steps. 1. Atheist challenges scripture. 2. Theist defends scripture. 3. Atheist refutes defense. 4. Theist makes statement about the glory of Christ and his dying for our sins. 5. Atheist continues to press original issue. 6. Theist claims a translation error.

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I don’t recommend pressing the issue beyond step six for a reason that is exactly one word long: Salem. Don’t think they’d hesitate to kill you. These are the same people who still Bush and the war in Iraq. They have no moral qualms about purging the world of sinners. In fact, they have no morals at all. Nothing bears this out better than the psychological, and, in many cases, physical torture that they inflict upon their own children. Let me ask you a question (You can’t answer or argue! God, I love this medium!): Why the fuck is it legal to tell toddlers that they could go to Hell? Don’t get me wrong. There exist few bigger freedom fans than me. The first amendment to the constitution guarantees all people in the United States freedom of religion, without government interference. To my way of thinking, ing a law against

teaching

your

children

about

your

religion

is

unconstitutional. Even setting the constitution aside, there is a limit to how much I am willing to meddle with the upbringing of any child. Most child-rearing decisions belong to parents, plain and simple. However, children are not property. They are human beings who should be extended a certain degree of individual rights. Modern society does not allow parents to beat their children,

despite

the

bible’s

endorsement

of

corporal

punishment. While I don’t necessarily agree that all spanking should be illegal, I think that the vast majority of people would agree that there is a line that should not be crossed. Parents do

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The Amazing Atheist

not have to right to mangle their children’s bottoms (or any other part of them), regardless of what their holy texts might say about it. The action of beating one’s children is illegal. Doing it in the name of God is no less illegal. Now imagine the psychological abuse of being taught from an age, before your reasoning faculties are developed, that if you do not obey the doctrines of a religion that you have no hope of understanding, you will burn in a pit of unfathomable torment where demons will gnaw at every centimeter of your flesh and the unimaginable heat of fire too hot to comprehend will drag multi-pronged dagger-tongues across your soul until the end of time. I see that as being worse than a beating in the long run. You might as well just hand the kid a rifle and point him to the nearest bell tower. So, why do we allow it? I can’t think of a good reason. We’d never allow a parent to tell their child, “If you don’t obey me, I will pull out all of your teeth with an old pair of pliers and fuck your mouth!” so why do we allow, “If you don’t obey God (me), you’ll go to a land of eternal torment to writhe in agony for infinities upon infinities!” If you remove the sacred cow status of religion for a moment and look at the situation objectively, I’m sure you won’t be able to answer the following question very easily. Who does more damage to a child: a one-time rapist or a parent who teaches them that if they’re not good they’ll burn in hell forever?

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Whatever your answer, I’m willing to bet that you actually had to stop to think about it.

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ISLAM IS LAME “YOU THINK YOU HAVE BALLS? I WOULD CHOP YOUR HEAD OFF YOU PATHETIC FAT SHIT. YOU ATHEIST BASTARDS HAVE DESTROYED THIS WORLD WITH YOUR EVOLUTION THEORY, SAYING LIFE IS MATTER OF CHANCE. THAT IS WHY THEIR IS DEPRESSION AND SUICIDE BECAUSE ATHEIST LIFE IS BASE ON PERFORMANCE. IF I MET YOU I WOULD DO ALLAH SWIFT HONOR AND THE UMMAH HONOR OF CHOPPING YOUR HEAD OFF AND DRAINING YOUR BLOOD! KEEP HIDING BEHIND YOUR COMPUTER! COME TO ENGLAND AND SAY THAT TO MY FACE AND I WILL STAB YOU UP, YOU PIG HONKY. LOL.” MuhammadFaysalNawa, Youtube (abysmal spelling and punctuation has been corrected)

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“FUCK YOU, racist fucking kafir! I wish I could chop your fucking head off you fat fuck! Islam OWNS YOU, bitch!” islamistic123, Youtube (abysmal spelling and punctuation has been corrected) “Hey, man, why you are insulting Islam? This is a very big thing! You had better back off these shitty things or you are a dead man, I swear to God.” karimsaber123 , Youtube (abysmal spelling and punctuation has been corrected) The religion that talks the most about forgiveness is the most unforgiving, so it should come as no shock to anyone that the one that talks the most about peace is the most violent. I’ve spent a good chunk of my life mocking Christianity and only the last few months expanding my interests to Islam as well. I’ve received more death threats from those Muslims in the last few months than I have from Christians in the last 10 years. Honestly, violence doesn’t bother me much. If someone wants to punch me in the teeth for pissing all over their notions of how the world works, I consider that a work hazard. I know full well that if I poke a few hornets nests, I’m going to get stung every now and then. I’ll even have a beer with the asshole that did it later (and draw penises on him when he es out), because I’m a good sport. But I don’t think I should have to worry about the proximity of my head to my body just because I like to create insulting depictions of the “prophet” Muhammad.

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My head and my neck are good friends. I even like to think of them as inseparable. I hope some proponents of the religion of peace don’t prove that assumption false.

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CONVERSION COUNTER: 0 AND STEADY I once remarked that converting a Christian to atheism is like changing the label on a jar of pickled dog turds. I stand by that statement. Many Atheists give oblivious credence to the notion that an imbecilic theist will, once converted to atheism, transform into the most brilliant of brights, the most spectacular of secularists, the apotheosis of atheistic intellectual integrity— and other such corny alliterations. The sad truth is that a shitfor-brains who thinks that Papa Smurf in the sky is watching his every move with unwavering concern will, if converted (or deconverted, if you prefer) to atheism, become a shit-for-brains who thinks that books are a nifty decoration. You’ll not improve such a person—if anything, you’ll make him worse. Consider, for a moment, Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, the shooters at Columbine High School. They were as atheistic as I am, but they embraced the dogmatism of the thoroughly debunked idea of Social Darwinism (which should rightly be called Social Spencerism). They managed to convince themselves that their shootings were, in some way, natural selection. If they’d been Christians, they might have killed for Jesus. Instead, they were Atheists, and they killed for Nietzsche and Darwin. That’s not progress by any definition of the word that I would embrace. I WARN YOU FURTHER: In an atheist world, atheism will no longer be a badge of intellectual prowess. Those of you

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who revel in your elitism now may well find yourself clutching at straws to justify your worth in the secular utopia of your fondest dreams. And who will we do intellectual battle with? Each other? I know we say that we want a challenge, but is it really what we desire? In your little black hearts can’t you it, if only to yourselves, that it’s a lot more fun using your vast intellect to anally rape the cognitively deficient than it is rationally discussing ideas with your equals? I suppose we can always argue with the Social Darwinists—but as far as pseudo-sciences created solely to justify the actions of the powerful against the powerless go, intelligent design will never be topped. It will always hold that special place in our hearts, won’t it? Won’t you look back on the pwnage of those imbeciles and smile? I know I will. I imagine myself in the old atheist’s home, sitting in my rocking chair, being blown by holographic teenagers while robot nurses pump apple-sauce down my throat through little gray tubes. Atop my nightstand I’ll have a little scrapbook of all the believers I ever crushed in one-sided, totally unfair debates. I’ll look at their pictures and I’ll laugh myself to sleep each night, but inside I’ll be crying. Without religion, there is no religion to destroy. Our victory is our defeat.

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CHILDREN’S LETTERS TO SATAN deer satan, we lernt in sundae scool that u r evul. why come r u evul? signed, billy Dear Billy, What the fuck is a sundae school? Do they teach you to make sundaes there? Are you going to attend Baskin-Robbins Tech when you grow up? Seriously, I’m glad your being instructed in how “evul” I am—but maybe your parents should spend a little less time pumping your head full of that stupid nonsense and a little more time teaching you how to spell. I’m almost surprised that you managed your own name. To answer your question, I’m evil because all the good guys like your Sunday school teacher are dicks who indoctrinate children to ensure that their collection plates stay full well into the next generation. Your Pal In Hell, Satan *****

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Dear Satan, I don’t get it. If you’re in charge of Hell and you want people to sin, then why is Hell a place of torment? Signed, Susanne Dear Susanne, If you can answer that question than you’re a lot smarter than I am. I don’t know why I would torture those who take my side in the war against God. The more I sit here and ponder it, the less sense it makes. Why would I incentivise people to turn to God and away from me? It seems like I’d be doing much better business if I made Hell a little bit more appealing. It’s a little bit embarrassing that a child had to point it out to me, but thanks for doing so. I promise that by the time you get here (you know a girl as analytical as you is going to wind up a Godless atheist heathen) things will be much nicer. Your Friend at the End, Satan *****

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dear Stan, YOU are so Stupit to b against god. He will kick you BUTT when the day of Judgmint cames. My mom sed so. Signed, JED Dear Jed, Ritalin. You need it. First of all, my name is Satan, not Stan. Well, actually, my full name is Beelzebub Lucifer Satanson, but everyone calls me Satan for short. Second of all, God is all-powerful. I can’t possibly be against God unless that’s what he wills me to do. Why would God be so cruel as to force me to suffer just to have the universe a certain way, you might ask if you were smarter—the answer eludes me. Ever consider the notion that maybe I’m not really the one on the evil end of this whole good/evil spectrum? Third of all, are you taking spelling lessons from Billy? Judgmint? Sounds like something they put on your pillow in purgatory. Your Source Of Laughter In The Ever After, Satan *****

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The Amazing Atheist

Dear Satan, Your horns are cool. Why do you have a pitchfork? Is there hay in hell? I thought you were cool in that stupid Tom Cruise movie where you steal that unicorn’s horn. Your horns are cooler than a unicorn’s horn anyway. Your Fan, Jonathan P.S. I like to light things on fire. Is that cool? Dear Jonathan, Thank you. I get far too few compliments on my appearance. The Big Red Guy With A Flame In His Eye, Satan P.S. Fuck yeah. *****

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Dear Satan, I just don’t see how any of it can be true. You, God, angels, talking snakes, people turning into pillars of salt—I’ve tried and I’ve tried, but I just can’t believe it. God doesn’t answer my letters, so I’m trying you as a second resort. Hoping, Chris Dear Chris, If I didn’t exist, then you’d have to accept that the bad things in the world are not the fault of an all-malevolent being and that all the good things can’t be credited to an all-benevolent one. Are you really willing to accept that? If you are, then these words that you think I’m speaking to you know should suddenly just vanish into thin. . . .

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The Amazing Atheist

“FAGGOT” Christian moms and dads, how can you be so cruel? I’ve read the letters of your children, you know. They write to me. They trust me, because they can see that I’m not going to hate them for some petty difference. Boys and girls—13, 14, 15, 16 years old. Old enough to see through your shit, too young to not need your guidance and approval. They can’t get it from you. They look at you and see nothing but judgment and tenuous love. Conditional love. How can I receive letters from teenage girls who don’t want to be disowned for being atheists without wanting you dead? How many letters can I read from kids who are gay in religious households where fags are sinners who go to the deepest and hottest part of Hell without wishing that each and every last one of you would just do the world a favor and die? How many kids have to wind up with slit wrists so that you can have your grotesque death symbol cross plastered to the back of your Earth-raping SUV? How many lives have to be prematurely squandered before the people realize that what’s really going on here is nothing short of a holocaust? You’re killing your own offspring. You’re not putting the guns to their heads yourself, but you’re as guilty of their deaths as if you had. So I have to do what you won’t and can’t. I have to do the job no one else will do and give these kids some glimmer of hope. I have to make them realize that you’re not worth spilling tears (or blood) over. I have to teach them to hate you.

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So, when the day comes—and it will come—when you find yourself saying that I turned your children against you, know that I will not deny it. I will it it with the greatest pride that I have ever known. Your kids will stand taller than you ever stood and they will burn your book and spit on the ashes. They will fuck who they want, take whatever drugs they want, dress how they want, listen to whatever music they want, and more importantly they will love who they want—and it won’t be you.

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THE GAY GOD ARGUMENT This argument isn’t going to deconvert anyone, but it’s fun to use just to watch fundie faces get red: YOU: Does God have to follow the ten commandments? FUNDIE: No. Those are rules laid out for man. So God is allowed to sin? It’s not sinning when God does it. He’s above those laws. So God could be a homosexual then. WHAT!? Well, you said that God is above the laws of man, so even though he forbids homosexuality, he can still indulge in it if he so pleases. POSSIBLE RESPONSE #1: Well, I guess so . . . COUNTER: [None needed. You’ve won.] POSSIBLE RESPONSE #2: God has no sexuality. COUNTER: But God made us in his image. Are you saying he has reproductive organs but no use for them? POSSIBLE RESPONSE #3: God has no gender, and therefore no sexuality. COUNTER: The bible never makes any reference to God’s androgyny. It clearly categorizes him as male. POSSIBLE RESPONSE #4: FUCK YOU! COUNTER: [“resort” to violence]

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QUESTIONS CHRISTIANS HATE x Why does God desire the affection of vastly inferior beings like us? It’s like if you or me demanding to be praised and glorified by ants. x If God knows who’s going to Heaven and who’s going to Hell, then what’s the point of all this? x If Heaven is so great, why did Satan and a third of the angels rebel against God? x

If God puts us here on Earth to test us, why does he make the test unfair? A test only makes sense if everyone is given the same test, but every human being is given totally different trials and tribulations. Some people who are Christians who will be saved by God would be Muslims damned to hell if they’d simply been born in a different geographic region.

x What does your personal comfort have to do with objective truth? x How big is God’s dick? (You have to ask this one seriously, demanding an answer as if it were of vital importance.)

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Wherein I teach your dumb ass a thing or two about how shit works.

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The Amazing Atheist

HOW TO GET LEFT THE FUCK ALONE I am vulgar. I think bad thoughts and more often then not I shit them forth from my mouth with all the enthusiasm of an overpaid whore on ecstasy. What's worse, I usually say them when in mixed company, or when speaking to one with fragile ears, and a frail mind in between them. Jaws drop and gasps resound. "Did he really just say what I think he did?" You're damn right he did. And do you know what? He enjoyed it too. It's how I maintain my sanity, and now, with my help, you too can improve the quality of your life by being a dirty foul-mouthed bastard. "How can being grossly offensive improve my life, Amazing Atheist?" God you people ask some dumb fucking questions. Observe my ingenious equation below.

People + Life = / Life – People = And how do you get rid of people? You can stick dynamite in their asses and paint the walls with their insides . . . which is effective, but illegal and costly. You can poison their coffee, but it tends to be slow—and problematic if they drink tea or water or cat piss.

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The best solution to your people problem is to make your company utterly un-enjoyable by totally offending anyone foolish enough to seek your conversation. "How do I accomplish this feat, Amazing Atheist? I am not clever and witty like you." I know. Don't fret. I'm here to help. There are four basic methods of fucking with peoples stupid heads. 1. The Grumbling Prick Method 2. The "My Life is Shit" Method. 3. The Polite Asshole Method 4. The Amazing Atheist Method THE GRUMBLING PRICK METHOD This method is usually effective on those who want to ask for favors or opinions, and best of all for you dumbfucks, it's so easy that it doesn't even require any brain activity. Basically, you just grumble. Victim: "Hey, AA, can I borrow some salmon?" Me: "Grrrrrrr . . . Flippidyskittlefucker! YOU KNOW NOT MY POWAH!!!" Victim: "What?" Me: "Fraggenrippert shitterpickfork eat nachos in hellzzor!!!"

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The Amazing Atheist

Victim: "Uh. I'll come back later." THE "MY LIFE IS SHIT" METHOD This is the favorite among whiney people, who, for the most part, don't even understand that it repels people. Basically, when you are approached by an undesirable, you start whining about everything wrong in your life. If you have a relatively happy life, just make some shit up. The more inane the shit you bitch about, the better. If you bitch about valid things, then your misery is likely to be compelling—which you don't want. For instance: Victim: "Hi, TJ!" Me (in depressed voice): "Hi." Victim: "Something the matter? You sound down." Now, this is where you hit them with it. Your response should be inane and whiney. You don't want to compel them. WRONG RESPONSE: "Oh. Nothing much. A serial killer murdered everyone I loved and brutally raped me." That's sure to lead to a lot of consolation that you don't want. RIGHT

RESPONSE:

"Something

the

matter?

No.

EVERYTHING is the matter. I've got a paper cut. My Coke is

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The Amazing Atheist

flat. My Toes hurt. My hands are kind of cold. And to top it all off, people that I hate keep trying to talk to me." THE POLITE ASSHOLE METHOD This method requires more brains than the others, and is the least effective in getting rid of people since many are too thick to even know that they are being insulted. However, this is the best method for those desiring a feeling of superiority to those that they are insulting. You most commonly see this technique used by people who want to insult people who are ridiculous, but have a lot of authority. Basically, you insult them subtly, and make it sound like a compliment. A good sense of irony is needed for this one. Victim: "Do you think that they will ever create a computer with Artificial Intelligence?" Me: I don't think a machine could function on your intellectual level, sir. Victim: Really? Me: Oh yeah. A computer with a brain like yours wouldn’t know what to do with itself.

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The Amazing Atheist

THE AMAZING ATHEIST METHOD This is my favorite method, and not just because it's named after me. I won't even bother explaining, because you'd never understand, but I'll give you an example: Victim: "Hi, TJ, do you want to go swimming?" Me: "In your bloody remains maybe." Victim: "Um . . . huh?" Me: "Fuck you, you shriveled scrotum sack!" Victim: "Hey! Fuck you, uh . . . asshole!" Me: "SUCK THE BALLS OF THE GREAT MONKEY DEMON!" Victim: "Eeeeeeek!" (faints.) "Wow, Amazing Atheist, you sure are the greatest genius to ever live." Yes. And you aren't even worthy of my great wisdom. Anyhow, I'm off to drink the urine of 17 virgin cattle so that I may unlock the secrets of the multiverse and all of its special juicy cosmic-type powers.

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The Amazing Atheist

HOW TO WRITE A BOOK This is what writers do. They sit down and write. You don't need a big vocabulary. Hell, you don't even have to have much of anything to say. Most things, after all, will say themselves if you let them. Another thing to is that you have to write what you feel; you'll never get anywhere if you write what you think. That's probably why I'm struggling so much with this medium. I'm not a very emotional person. Shit. If I even unlocked the feelings that I know must be somewhere deep inside me (probably near the crotch) I would be better than Shakespeare. Well, not really. But I could be pretty goddamned

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good—better than any of these fucking monkeys that are writing today. That's kind of funny. Isn't that how it always starts? You look at the work of those who are getting paid for something and realize, that's awful! I could do better than that! And that's when the little light bulb manifests out of thin air right above your head. You realize that you've just found your calling. Writing! What could be better? You can remain as lazy as you ever were and never have to go out doors. You can be as ugly as a festering splatter of runny cat shit and still become an internationally recognized celebrity with infinite wealth. Well, actually, most writers make next to nothing and have to hang on to their day jobs to pay the rent, but fuck those guys! You aren't going to be one of those! You're going to be a number one bestseller. Stephen King will beg to suck your dick so that he may achieve an inkling of your tremendous talent by stealing your semen and using it to make a clone of you so that he can steal its inevitably brilliant ideas. You could write a book about your right nut and sell more than J.K. Rowling. That is the extent of your talent. After having this epiphany, you rush home and break out the old typewriter (PC's are for pussies). After you get the dust out of every crevasse and yank the dead rat out of the roller, you’re ready to begin work on your masterpiece. No ideas emerge immediately. You give up and go to sleep saying that you'll try it again tomorrow.

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The next day you sit, gazing madly at the blank sheet of paper. After a few hours you type an ‘M.’ You stare it with the attentiveness of a coked-out president peeking in at one of his hot daughters showering through a cracked door (nothing against "good ol' G Dubbya." I ain’t no terrorist-lover). What the fuck is wrong with that fucking M? He’s just sitting there, looking at you in his smug, smart-ass way. FUCK HIM! You lift the typewriter up and toss it across the room right into your TV set, smashing the screen to smithereens. That's okay, you tell yourself, it is unbefitting a writer such as myself to watch television anyway. You decide that the typewriter approach is outdated. You decide that you need to go buy a brand new PC. Unfortunately you have no way to pay for it unless you take all the money out the savings that you've had since you were a little kid and would sell your body to the local sex offender. That's okay though, you're going to be a filthy stinking-ass rich writer soon. You’ll show that fucking M! You’ll never put him in any of your stories! There wont be any M’s in your stories! No sir! On your way out the door your phone rings. You pick it up. It's your boss wondering where you were all day. You tell him to go fuck himself up the ass with a big, floppy, rubber dick. You hang up the phone and giggle at your cleverness. You feel better all ready. A few hours later, you're back with your brand new, deluxe, limited addition XK-33 with an Ultimum 666 processor and a 22” flat-screen monitor. The side of the box reads, THE

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OFFICIAL COMPUTER OF SATAN. You smile and nod with self-approval at you excellent purchase. You bring it into your work room (formerly called the bathroom) and plug that bad boy in. It explodes into flames and burns down your apartment complex, killing two and injury twenty. You are badly burned, but the paramedics tell you that your insurance has expired. No biggie! The burns don't hurt that much, and you're sure you can sleep at a friend’s house until you get back on your feet. And tomorrow you can go back to that computer shop and give them Hell! You hop in your car. It won't start. Who cares? It’s a nice night for walking anyway. After a few hours (during which you could not locate one working payphone) you arrive at your friend’s apartment. He is not home. You begin to feel a bit angry and decide to mutilate the first person you see. You spot and old granny walking her tiny poodle around the block. The bitch must die! You run after her screaming obscenities at the top of your lungs. Her face contorts in panic and she grabs a Glock .9mm out of her purse. You scream, jump back and try to run, but granny isn't having it! "Thought you could off me, huh? Ya sonuvabitch!" she yells ionately, while unloading two bullets into you. You fall to the ground and turn on your side. She uses this opportunity to kick your nuts a few times. Then, as you clutch them in pain, her dog mistakes your face for a fire-hydrant. After she leaves, you lie there and pray for death. It doesn't come, but the police do.

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They arrest you, but it's not such a bad thing. At least you'll get some medical attention, and you'll have plenty of time to write in prison.

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The Amazing Atheist

HOW TO SEEM SMART Even though you will, over the course of my numerous lessons, become much smarter than you are now, you'll still be fairly stupid. Which is okay, since advancement in human society is

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based not on how intelligent you are, but how intelligent you can seem to those handing out social promotions. "I don't understand, Amazing Atheist! Blargh! Why come is I be so dumb?" It's okay. I'll simplify it for you: You are stupid. The Amazing Atheist is smart. But if you follow his instructions to a T you can at least seem smart to others. Thus, your position in the social hierarchy will rise faster than your dick at the sight of any sort of farm animal. VOCABULARY A timeless method for seeming smarter than you could ever hope to be is to use incredibly complicated language to communicate any task. For example: Concise Language: "My friends and I will go to the store and get some food." 'Genius' Language: "Presently, myself and some acquaintances shall embark upon a journey to the local market in the pursuit of reasonably priced sustenance to sate our appetites in the immediate and for a period of days forthcoming.” Sure, people won't understand what you're saying, but you'll seem smart to them because you used lots of really big words. This is because they, like you, are stupid and have no concept as to what actually constitutes intelligence.

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The Amazing Atheist

SILENCE Abraham Lincoln once said, "It is better to keep your mouth shut and be thought a fool than to open it up and get your tongue eaten by evil flies." Or something along those lines. Anyhow, the point is this: shut the fuck up. For some reason, people who don't talk much are considered to be intelligent. Perhaps because it is assumed that they are deep in thought about physics or genetic enhancement of the male sexual organ, or whatever it is that smart people think about.* GLASSES Smart people wear glasses. This is a well known fact among anyone who watches TV. If a guy (or gal) wears glasses, let it be known that they are probably capable of building atom bombs using only duct tape and silly putty. If you already wear glasses, great. If you don't, go get some. It is a good idea to get the ugliest possible pair in the store since everyone knows that smart people have no . . . FASHION SENSE BACK AWAY FROM THE DESIGNER BRANDS! From now on you shop at K-mart, where you will buy only the most repulsive clothes that you can find. You need stuff that positively screams, "I AM A GEEK! I'M TOO SMART TO WASTE TIME DRESSING MYSELF LIKE A HUMAN BEING." If you have

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trouble finding clothes that scream that, record it on a pocket recorder and play it in a continuous loop everywhere you go. THE LAUGH Smart people do not laugh the same way, or at the same things, that other people do. You must perfect a laugh that sounds something like a bat getting butt-fucked by and elephant. This will take time and practice, and I recommend that you allow yourself to get butt-fucked by an elephant (just once) so that you can get in the proper frame of mind. You don't have to, I suppose. If you do, be sure to take pictures and send them to all the of your family as well as your classmates/coworkers. Smart people are always doing eccentric things like that, and you will notice a big change in the way people view you. But, I digress. Another important factor is what you laugh at. Things that you find funny now, like Big Momma’s House 2, just aren't gonna cut it in the intellectual community. Watch Monty Python and just laugh every time it seems like there was a joke. Eventually you will begin to think that you actually understand the humor and will be able to pick up on smart people jokes in the real world. "But what happens when I have to tell a joke of my own, Amazing Atheist? Won't it reveal to them my overwhelming stupidity?"

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Nah. Smart people are fairly slow to pick up on things like that. Their minds are always analyzing things. If you tell a joke that hints your stupidity, just laugh and say, "I don't know what came over me. I apologize for my immaturity." Then start bitching about Bill Gates, or an sci-fi or fantasy film. This will divert their minds from your digression from established intellectual standards of humor. *For those of you wondering, the thing that smart people actually do think about most is how unfair it is that they are trapped on a planet full of imbeciles.

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HOW TO SUCCEED ON YOUTUBE (and why you shouldn’t even bother) Becoming a popular YouTuber is a like winning a smallest dick contest—you’re still a loser. Despite the completely apparent truth of this statement, I still get a lot of emails from idiots too stupid to know a waste of time when they see one asking me for pointers on how they can become as popular on YouTube as I am. KEEP IT SHORT I’ve never been able to follow this one personally, but people are mindless fucking drones that like it when you reduce your opinion to a series of soundbites. If you have the intellectual integrity of a Paris Hilton song and are willing to simplify complex issues into cute, clipped little aphorisms you’ll do well. ANGER People love to watch a tantrum. Contort your face, flail your arms and impotently hurl invectives at your chosen target—the repressed folks at home will nod whether they really agree or not. It’s not what you’re angry about—it’s just that you’re angry. RELIGION Everyone likes it when someone bashes the ever-loving shit out of religion. This is because it’s the throwaway controversy of our time. People watch it and pretend it’s edgy when in fact pretty much everyone is doing it. Still, they never tire of their little pageant of fake-ballsiness. If you tear God down (when people

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shoot fishes in barrels, they compare it to tearing down God), the masses will build you up. TITS If you’re a girl, show them off. Guys don’t even give a fuck what you say. You can have an IQ lower than your bust size and you’ll still be called a genius by a number of horny would be dickdonors. On the downside, sexually frustrated teenagers will call you a slut for daring to have a cunt used for any other purpose but to sheath their weapons of minor destruction—but that will raise your position on the “most discussed” list, so I recommend letting them. PWNAGE People pretend not to like it, but people are liars. Everyone loves a good pwnage match. But if you’re gonna do it, do it right. Hell, you might as well pwn me. Here’s how: SEIZE MY INSECURITIES You’ll make no progress simply calling me fat. If I were sensitive about my weight, don’t you think I’d make a better attempt to conceal it? If you really want to get to me, point out words that I mispronounced or logical fallacies within my arguments. If I misspelled a word in my title or description, jump on it like CapnOAwesome jumps on an opportunity to whore himself out

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for even the faintest possibility of a new subscriber. There’s nothing I hate worse than feeling stupid. UNCOVER MY CONTRADICTIONS I have plenty of contradictions from video to video. I leave them up because I assume that no one will ever be anal retentive enough to notice them. Prove me wrong. Find two clips of me saying totally contradictory things and play them side by side to make me look like a jackass who doesn’t know what he’s talking about. WHEN ALL ELSE FAILS, POINT OUT MY FAILINGS People seem to adore pointing out my shortcomings rather than arguing with my position. So, for my beloved collection of invective-spewing haters, I submit this bullet-point list of some of my failings. x My oral hygiene is below average (above average in Britain). x I neglect my toenails. They’re quite ugly. x I pick my nose to an obscene amount and examine my finds afterwards. x I waft my own farts upwards so that I can catch their aroma.

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The Amazing Atheist

x I play with my balls for at least one hour each day. x And smell my hands afterwards. x I have masturbated to “The Simpsons.” x My penis is small enough that any girl can stick the whole thing in her mouth. x I fantasize about being cooked alive by sexy female cannibals. x I masturbate to strap-on pornography. x

When I was 11, I shit in the cat litter box just to see what it would feel like.

x My nose is covered in black heads that I’ve made no attempt to treat. x Because of my fair skin and massive fatness, I have revolting stretch marks up and down both sides of my body. x I have back hair.

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x I wear the same pair of jeans for weeks because I’m too lazy to transfer my things from one pocket to the next. x I think 14-year-old girls are hot. (Yeah, so does everyone else, but I actually it it) x I keep arguing a point even after I’ve been proven wrong because I’m too embarrassed to it defeat. UH . . . Edit out your verbal auxiliaries. No one wants to, uhhhh, you know, like, hear, ummmmmm, that, liiiiike, stuff, you know? I personally don’t bother because I don’t give a fifth of a flying fuck what people want or need from a video, but look at how well Dendrophilian has done for himself simply removing all that shit from his videos. SPACE ‘EM OUT I’ve noticed that the people who put out weekly polished content (PatCondell, Dendrophilian) amass subscriptions a fuck of a lot faster that idiots like me who insist on putting out something damn near every single day. SCRIPT IT I’ll be honest with you—I think PatCondell is the most boring PC representative of atheism possible. He’s every bit the polished image that the vanilla YouTube Atheists want. He’s old,

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twinkly-eyed and full of that manufactured wit that only a heavily rehearsed script can provide. If you’ve got the dedication, you’re better off (in of subscribers) drafting a script, memorizing it and reading it for the camera with a big phony fucking smile on your sell-out lips. KISS ASS It’s no secret that Supexcellency got his 1000+ subscribers by burying his nose as far up my ass as he possibly could until I became so flattered that I made him a shoutout video. His subsequent rejection of all things me drove me to vow to the moon and stars that I would never again allow an asskisser to get close to me, nor would I ever again make a shoutout video for even my closest YouTube pals like saturninefilms. So, there you have it. That’s how it’s done. All you have to do to become a YouTube star is lose all sense of self and become as dishonest and fake as the mainstream TV that YouTube is supposed to be an alternative to.

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Wherein I yammer on about the state of the world.

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EVERYTHING’S FINE According to the right, the world is about to end. We have sinned against God and soon his judgment will be upon us and everyone (except those brought up to Heaven in the rapture) will suffer horribly. Liberal extremists will conquer the planet, gay orgies will spread like wildfire, and abortions will become as commonplace as brushing your teeth (this may be a bad example for those of you living in Great Britain). The only answer is to mandate prayer in schools, burn the Bill of Rights and, for the love of all that is holy, stop teaching children that evolution nonsense!

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According to the left, the world is about to end. We have sinned against mother nature and soon the ice caps will melt and everyone will suffer horribly. Greedy multi-national corporations will conquer the planet until every last human being on earth works for slave wages. The only answer is to stop eating meat, drive hybrid cars and stop saying anything even remotely offensive about anyone other than George W. Bush. I have a question. Doesn’t anyone else think that things are fine and that we’re all being arrogant and reactionary? When the Earth starts getting warmer, we say, “Must be something we did!” and ignore any evidence to the contrary. It sounds right to the left on a visceral level. We’re so important that it must be our fault! Look, I’m the last person to argue with scientists, but climate science is one of the trickiest branches there is. Meteorologists can’t figure out the weekly forecast half the time, but Climatologists are 100% certain that human CO2 levels are responsible for global warming? From a purely common sense standpoint, it just doesn’t sound very reasonable. Climate scientists are quick to point out that the earth is, “as hot as it’s been in 12,000 years,” but this planet is 4.5 billion years old. If it was this hot as recently as 12,000 years ago, then why is it so unusual that it’s this hot now? The fact is that, just a million years ago, the Earth’s climate was completely different than it is now. The sea level was 80 feet higher. The air was far more humid and stifling. Imagine planet Louisiana. It got from

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there to here without our help. Why do we automatically assume that it must be our fault that it’s going back again? Sure, adjusting to a changing climate will suck, but that’s what evolution is for—adapting. And if the planet becomes uninhabitable, that would certainly suck but we’ve already got caffeinated donuts and Die Hard 4 . . . I think it’s safe to say that we’ve had a good run. The conservative’s arguments for what’s wrong in the world makes even less sense. At least liberals have the scientific community behind their doomsday scenario. The neocons have only got “biblical” evidence (read: jack shit). And the conservative idea of hell on earth is rampant alternative

sex

and

drugs

with

no

legal

consequences

whatsoever. If this hell were ever realized, people like me would find themselves in heaven. Meanwhile, their idea of heaven—you know, clouds and harps and all that jazz, er, gospel—is about the least appealing thing in the world to anyone with half a brain and a set of balls (don’t be offended ladies, the analogy could as easily be ‘and a functional cunt’) It would be like the worst hell imaginable! Eternal bliss may sound good to the people who have never even had a single second of bliss in their lives, but those of us who have orgasmed without procreation even crossing our minds and not felt so much as a single iota of guilt afterwards, know that there is little worse in life (or afterlife, I’d presume) than too much of a good thing.

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For the sake of making a larger point, let’s all pretend that the conservative notion of human liberty as the apotheosis of immorality is, indeed, as bad as they think it is. Let’s just ask ourselves these two questions: Could the liberals be right about the world being fucked by global warming? Could the conservatives be right about the world being fucked by God? The respective answers are maybe and no. But the more important question here is, “what about the people who think things are the best they’ve ever been and are getting better?” We exist, I assure you. Don’t we get a say in all this? Where’s our media exposure? Where are our celebrity icons? Our propaganda films? All we’ve really got is that stupid fucking Bobby McFerrin song, “Don’t Worry, Be Happy.” But how can we not worry when everyone else assures us that there’s so many things that we need to worry about? How can we be happy in a world full of miserable people? Being an optimist sucks.

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THE OUTSIDER GENERATION In all my years of spouting my crazy opinions, I have no recollection—not one—of ever changing anyone's mind about anything. I've written essays and poems and songs and stories and paragraph-long insanities on a million different subjects, but none of it has ever made anyone who didn’t already agree with me say, “Wow, you’re right!” I've constructed arguments that I believed to be air-tight, but my enemies keep breathing comfortably.

I've

produced,

on

a

few

occasions,

nearly

incontrovertible evidence to back up this claim or that claim, but the dissenters only scowled at me and stayed their course. As I've stayed mine. I state my opinion, you state yours—and neither of us changes our mind? Neither of us improves or evolves in any immediately conceivable way? No one wants to change their mind about anything. They actively resist it. They hate the very notion of it. If you examine the words "change your mind" closely, with a psychologist’s eye, it's easy to see the source of these fears. Hell, if there was ever a word that scared the living pig shit out of every man walking this little ball of shit in our toilet bowl of a galaxy, its change: "Things change," says the scraggly villain when the hero falls. "You've changed," says your girl or boyfriend just before they dump you.

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"He's changing!" screams the protagonist of a werewolf story when someone begins the transformation. It's a very negative word. At least, usually. It does have positive connotations as well: "It's time for a change," says a new leader to a crowd sick of the way their old leader mislead them. "Nothing ever changes," someone says sadly. (This is

a

negative

statement,

but

change

has

positive

connotations.) The rule here is easy enough to discern—change has a positive connotations in dissatisfactory circumstances and a negative connotations when people are content (or content enough) with the way things are. So when someone tries to change your mind, you reject their attempts. Why? Because you're a human being who secretly believes that you are perfect, in spite of your character flaws, of which you are mostly aware. You are content enough in your mind to feel as though it is untouchable and sacred— something to be preserved at all costs. Why do you think the first step any cult leader or government agent takes to brainwash someone involves eroding their sense of identity and smashing their self-esteem to pieces? Any human being functioning normally is not very susceptible to the overt suggestions of his fellow man, despite our instinct to take cues from the pack and go along with whatever the general consensus is. In fact, ironically enough, our built in conformity streak is a big part of what makes us so

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The Amazing Atheist

reluctant to go along with people. This is because we are “wired” to distrust the outsider and accept only the ideas of those within our social group. In this age of extremely limited social interaction, this mechanism, once crucial to the evolutionary process, has begun to destroy us. People are cynics who distrust everything. In the 1950’s when the government and corporations churned out endless propaganda, the masses, for the most part, believed every word of it. Today, people distrust everything they hear, everything they read, everything they see, everyone they meet. Nearly a fourth of people believe that the Government was responsible for the attacks of September 11th. I suspect that people have always been terribly jittery creatures, a race of idiots recoiling from their own shadows, but there was always an “us” and a “them.” Us was a collective of individuals that could be trusted—they go to the same church as you, the have the same values as you, they are you. Them was any one that belonged to any other group and believed a slew on unwholesome, terrible things. Now there is no us. There is only them. We are a generation born to belong nowhere, a generation charged with making out own clique, but we don’t want to. And what is to blame for our reluctance? The conformist mechanism, that component of our psyche that tells us that we’re not to trust outsiders—but now everyone is an outsider.

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The Amazing Atheist

We do not function as a group. We do not have a common ideology. We do not have a common system of values. We run the gamut. Is this a good thing? Can anyone hope to compete with other social organisms when they haven’t one of their own? Doesn’t anyone want to get together and march to war with me? Hell yes, you say? But you want to lead? Fuck that. Never mind.

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The Amazing Atheist

NOBODY ‘08 A beer-bellied bastard on La-Z-Boy, swilling pisswater lager, transfixed on a 24 months with no interest 52” plasma screen TV’s from Best Buy, watching fast, ment-plastered cars go in a circle—can you see it? Can you see those vacant eyes, fat and glistening with impotent monkey rage? Can you see those mustard stains on the wife beater too small to cover the gelatinous blob of hair and flesh called his stomach? Can you smell him—can you feel sweat, motor oil and poorly wiped ass forcing its way up your nostrils? This man—let’s call him Frank—works as a short order chef at Waffle House, making $8.25 an hour after 10 years. He hates niggers. He hates spics. He hates faggots. He loves Jesus. He loves Nascar. He loves ogling teenage ass. He’s an all-American. He votes for whoever waves the flag the most enthusiastically, whoever tells him that he gets to keep his guns, whoever says the world freedom the most and whoever believes in freedom the least. I hate Frank. I don’t hate him because he’s a poor redneck. There are Franks all over this nation with perfect elocution and full pocket books. I don’t hate him because he’s a Christian. There are Franks reading the Koran. There are Franks that practice Yoga and pray before Buddhist altars. I don’t hate him because he’s a conservative. There are hippy franks who smoke pot and listen to Grateful Dead all day.

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The Amazing Atheist

I hate Frank because Frank is a stupid motherfucker that will believe whatever the proper authority tells him. For Frank, it’s Uncle Sam and one of the many guises of Jesus. I hate Frank because he doesn’t stop to think that maybe people have a vested interest in lying to him. I hate Frank because Frank doesn’t care what happens in the world as long as it doesn’t happen to him. Most of all, I hate Frank because Frank votes. Politics is a movie with a high budget and a low IQ. The acting is wooden, the plot is rehashed and the characters are two-dimensional. Democracy is a packed theater full of cheering, clapping idiots, enthralled by the some one-trick pony that they’ve watched for as long as they can . The people are a great and clamoring mass of idiots who have no business making decisions about our society. Benjamin Franklin said it better than I ever could: "Democracy is two wolves and a lamb voting on what to have for dinner. Liberty is a well-armed lamb contesting the vote." What business does the heterosexual majority have legislating the rights of the homosexual minority? What business does the white majority have deciding how much funding black schools will receive? What business does a majority of Democrats or of Republicans have telling the other near-half of the country how things will be done? Democracy in it’s purest form is just fascism by consensus, wherein 51% of the population can rule over 49% simply because they’ve got bigger numbers. Would you let your next door neighbor decide who you’re to marry or what you’re to

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wear or how you’re to spend your money or your time? Fuck no. But that’s exactly what you’re doing when you participate in this system. So why would you cast a vote for anyone? Why would you choose to build the bars for your own cage? The constitution that our wise founders set down to paper all the years ago to protect our republic from mob rule and ensure the rights of individuals has been eroded by years of apathy and malice. It’s not going to protect you from the acephalous juggernaut of pure democracy. When you go to the ballot box and cast your meaningless vote for a meaningless man or woman who has no intentions of changing a thing in this world for the better, you are complicit in your own slavery. Why do you need someone else to represent your interests? Why not represent your own interests in the day to day world? If you don’t like drugs, don’t do them. If you don’t like gay marriage, don’t marry someone of the same sex. If you don’t like abortions, don’t have one. Why do you need to a law that says no one is allowed to do these things? What the fuck business is it of yours where I stick a penis or a needle of a coat hanger? If I want to walk down the street naked with my cock in my hand, that should be my right! You have the right to turn away or to call me an idiot or, if you’re a business owner, refuse to sell goods to me. What’s so wrong with that? What’s the big

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The Amazing Atheist

fatal flaw in this plan that socialist and other democrats claim is so glaring and obvious? Freedom means the right to be part of a 1%. The right to be in the majority is a given in any system. Even Stalin worked for the good of the majority, he just killed a few million irrelevant individuals to manage it (for the information of the historically inept, he still failed). I say nobody in ’08, because that’s exactly who I feel is qualified to lead me: Nobody.

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The Amazing Atheist

FUCK RESPONSIBILITY Libertarians don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about, and their boner for the word and concept of responsibility attests to this like nothing else. I want you to focus very intently on the next two words I am going to type: FUCK RESPONSIBILITY. Fuck it right in its corny, shit-spewing asshole. Responsibility isn’t freedom. They don’t even live on the same block. They work at the same company, but they hate each other. They’re both vying for that big promotion. They’re rivals. Responsibility should be something we begrudgingly accept as an unpleasant necessity, something to keep us from offing motherfuckers for looking at us funny or to keep our dicks in our pants at ballet recitals. Responsibility is nothing to come in your panties about. Yet all my libertarian friends just can’t get over how fucking wonderful responsibility is! OH! And they usually call it “personal” responsibility, which is redundant because there’s no other kind. I know that they do it to draw a distinction between responsibility to and for themselves and responsibility to and for others—but come on, we all know what responsibility means. And they always pose these stupid questions to me like, “Would you put a gun to my head and steal from me to give medicine to a sick person?” They consider this an argument against Universal Healthcare. It always makes their heads spin when I answer, “If it was someone I knew, I’d blow your fucking

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The Amazing Atheist

head clean off just to extend that persons life another day. Anyone who adamantly opposes a portion of their income going to the treatment of sick people deserves to die anyway.” I don’t actually believe that (my official stance on Universal Healthcare is, in fact, that I don’t give a shit), but it’s fun to see them get all pissed and indignant, hurling insults and screaming obscenities. It makes them look like the primitivist apes they are. The question asked by all political philosophies is this: where does power belong? Some say that it belongs in the hands of government (statists, fascists, communists), some say it belongs in the hands of the people (social democrats). Some say it belongs in the hands of the market (libertarians, anarchocapitalists). Some believe it belongs to individual persons—not to be confused with the people (anarchists). I don’t particularly like any of these ideas. So fuck it. I don’t believe in anything other than tearing your stupid beliefs down until someone smarter than me comes up with a solution.

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CONSERVATIVES HATE AMERICA Okay, this is a last minute addition to this book and I’m writing it in anger. You guys probably think that I often do things hastily or act in anger, but really I don’t. I do everything in my power not to. However, when the book “Power To The People” by conservative talk radio slut Laura Ingraham is number one in the country and Amazon.com is deleting negative reviews in deference to cunt-servative ideology, I find it hard to bite my tongue about it. I have not read the book. I have never heard of Laura Ingraham until today. But when I read the inside flap, I could barely hold back the bile. “If you're like most Americans, you've had enough. You're fed up with sell-out politicians who won't defend our borders; a Hollywood that peddles profanity, pornography, and Al Gore and Rosie O'Donnell as "entertainment"; schools that teach our kids more about condoms than about the Constitution; and snooty judges who think it's their job to legislate for us. But there's a way to stop the madness and return power to the people - where it belongs. Laura Ingraham, the most-listened-to woman in political talk radio, shows us how to take back what is ours. In POWER TO THE PEOPLE she provides a riotous, takeno-prisoners journey through our besieged culture and gives us a battle plan to re-make it anew, the way the Founders intended - strong, patriotic, pro-family, and unapologetically God-fearing. Part expose, part practical manifesto, and wholly entertaining, POWER TO THE PEOPLE is written in the style of Laura's fast-paced, no excuses, action-oriented radio show, weaving in personal tales of her own struggle to right

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The Amazing Atheist

the culture and the politics of our country: including how she derailed the appointment of Harriet Miers to the Supreme Court, mounted a grassroots campaign against corporate America's sponsorship of one of pop music's biggest and most profane rap stars, and torpedoed the amnesty bill that would have granted instant legal status to millions of illegal aliens. And for the first time, Laura also reveals how she found her faith during a moment of deep loss, along with poignant details of her year long battle with breast cancer. Over the years Laura has jousted with everyone from Michael Moore to Bill Maher to the Dixie Chicks. She once worked in-side the "dinosaur" media (CBS News and MSNBC) and knows the deceptive techniques practiced by those who "report" the news. In POWER TO THE PEOPLE, she holds back nothing, and takes the fight beyond Right versus Left to show you how to reclaim the culture and win. If you're tired of bewailing America's course, if you want to know what you can do to protect your family and restore our country, POWER TO THE PEOPLE is the book for you. Too bad breast cancer didn’t win. There is an unspoken truth this country that needs to be spoken, and I’m the one to speak it: Conservatives, those flag-waving fucktards who get all teary-eyed when the StarSpangled Banner starts bleating out of some sub-par songster’s mouth, HATE—not just with a capital H but with a capital A-T-E as well—America. They talk about “Traditional Family Values” as if that means something. The only thing it means is, “Fuck everyone who’s different. They disgust me. They can all die.” What’s a traditional family? Mom, dad, son, daughter—Dad works at the plant, mom is a homemaker, junior likes baseball and jet

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The Amazing Atheist

airplanes, Little Sally likes to play with dolls and has no further ambitions than keeping the kitchen clean for her man? Fuck those values. I hate those values. I think those values suck. Do you know what I propose we do with those values? Not a damn thing. You know why? Because I believe in freedom. I believe that “traditional” families can be traditional until they choke on their own revolting conceit. It’s their right. What isn’t their right is telling me what kind of family I can have. Family is supposed to be a bunch of people under a roof that love one another—whether it’s two men, two women, a women and two men, a man and two women. How can it be any of your business what your neighbor does if it doesn’t effect you? Is your traditional family somehow damaged by what Frank and Gregg two doors down are doing with their dicks? You don’t love America. You love a 1950’s sitcom version of America that never existed. It never did, it never could and it never will. Because as long as there are people like you who want to clean up the world, there are people like me who will dirty it faster than you can clean it. I love violent rap music, guns, drugs, fags, niggers, spics, kikes, Hollywood liberals,

pornography, profanity, secular

humanism, lesbian mothers and Harry Potter.

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The Amazing Atheist

In short, I love America. It’s my country as much as it is yours, and if you don’t love that fact, then you’re not a patriot—you’re just another pretender.

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Wherein I disturb the ever-loving shit out of you.

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The Amazing Atheist

RAPE SURVIVOR CHATROOM SURVIVOR Rape isn’t fatal. So imagine my indignation when I saw a chatroom called “Rape Survivors.” Is this supposed to impress me? Someone fucked you when you didn’t want to be fucked and you’re amazed that you survived? Unless he used a chainsaw instead of his dick, what’s the big deal? I don’t mean to be horrendously offensive and insensitive here, but everyone survives rape. Some women are killed afterwards, but that’s murder, not rape. To say that you’re a rape survivor is as meaningless as saying you’re a jury duty survivor or a divorce survivor. Lots of things in life suck—that doesn’t mean we survived them. The word survivor applies to people who are alive after being stabbed 73 times with an ice pick or mauled by rabid wolverines, not to a woman who gets dick when she doesn’t want it. Just because you got raped, you have to rape the English language? You vindictive bitch! Also, don’t you ever get tired of being the victim? How many failed relationships are you going to blame on a single violation of your personal space? I’m not making light of it. I know that it is damaging, a reminder of your powerlessness against the world—but it should be a wake up call. We are all powerless against the forces of fate (or chance). We’re all on different paths, but they all lead to the same place. Life leaves no survivors.

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NOTE ON THE ABOVE: I just showed this writing to a friend of mine, along with the question, “Is this too offensive to release?” I was looking for a yes. I got one. So, I’ve included it here. I’m here to cross lines. This is not The Amazing Atheist from those cute little youtube videos you love so much—this is the real me. And the real me doesn’t give a fuck about your small-minded boundaries. If you’ve been raped, does the above age add insult to injury? Does it make it hurt worse? How could it? If rape is the paramount psychological trauma in life, then how could my words aggravate it whatsoever? Too often in this culture, we fear words. But even if my words are the height of ignorance, they should elevate you. If you find them funny, then you will laugh and dismiss them as a joke. If you find them honest, you will respect my bravery. If you find them infuriating, I will have given you power. If you find them sad, then I have enriched you. Words never make less of a person, unless they are bland. If you feel something, then I’ve done my job as a writer.

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The Amazing Atheist IT’S SMALL. GET OVER IT.

People always feel the need to defend my penis from me, even when I’m not attacking it. All I have to do is mention that it is small and people will say, “I’m sure it’s just fine.” “I didn’t say it wasn’t fine. I just said it was small.” “It’s not small, I’m sure.” “No,” I insist, puzzled that they would argue with me about a piece of my anatomy, “It is.” “It probably just looks small because you’re such a big guy.” “Well, that probably makes it look smaller, but even disregarding that, it’s small.” “Why are you so down on yourself?” they ask. “I’m not,” I always explain at that point. “I don’t have anything against my penis, but the fact is that it is a small penis. Any shame I might have about that I lost after getting laid a few times and realizing that it wasn’t the end of the world.” On the other hand . . . A girl told me a story once. She told me that she was once lying naked in bed, legs spread apart, waiting for some guy she had just met to come in and fuck her. He entered the room, looked down at her, and started undressing. But at that last crucial moment, the revelation of what he was packing, he unveiled a miniscule member, probably roughly the size of mine, and she closed her legs instantly and left him standing there to wallow in his woe.

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I told her, “You’re lucky it wasn’t me. I’d have busted your fucking nose and raped you.” So maybe I am still a little sensitive about it. But hey, it’s easier to convince chicks to do anal—so there’s a small consolation. Right? Right? Eh, fuck you.

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TITS vs. ASS: THE FINAL SHOWDOWN A brain dead idiot that I used to talk to (it was GypsyWytch) once told me that there was nothing sexual about breasts, that they were just to feed children. I think she told herself this in order to convince herself that people like her for her brain and not for her bust. I know that I'm probably breaking the rules of literature when I actually commit this word to ink, but LULZ!

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The females of every mammalian species other than man have breasts that become engorged only when they are nursing their young. Only human breasts stay plump and juicy year round—why is that? The answer is as simple as it is beautiful. Because human beings walk upright, women needed a frontal as well as a rear sexual display—big tits was evolution's answer to the need. This is why a pair of voluptuous breasts looks remarkably similar to a fine ass. Tits are a mimic of ass—but are they a shoddy imitation or an improvement on the original design? Let's explore. TITS:

ASS:

EDGE:

Have to press them

Asshole is pleasantly

ASS

together to fuck

tight and even if

them, and even

your cock is small,

then there’s no real

she can really feel it.

tightness. You get to cum on

You get to cum on

their face when

their back when

you’re done.

you’re done.

Easy prep with

Requires lube and

little clean up.

possibly some educational videos if you’re well-endowed. And you might get shit on the tip of your dick.

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TITS

TITS

The Amazing Atheist

Hard to stare at

You can take a

without girl

picture and she

noticing.

won’t be any the

ASS

wiser. Easy to get girls to

Girls get weirded

let you play with or

out if you play with

even fuck them.

it too much and are

TITS

often extremely reluctant to let you fuck it. Suckable.

Spankable.

TIE

Sags with age.

Looks good into a

ASS

woman’s 40s or so. It’s a tie! No, I’m just fucking with you! Ass wins. “Why?”, you may ask. Just because. My book, my rules. Deal with it.

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Wherein I pretend to be smarter than I actually am.

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ILL LOGIC I am not easily bored. I'm very content with tranquility, because my mind is a circus freak show of deformed demons and holy holes. I can sit for hours in what is perceived as aloofness, when in reality, or rather, out of reality, I am moving at a million miles a second, reveling in my genius and lamenting my idiocy. I sit there with a blank expression on my face—the world scarcely pays attention. They have no idea that I am in another place; a place where the beauty of ugliness is understood completely and so am I. In this wonderful, horrible world, I am an all-powerful god, whose every perversion is immediately fulfilled. I reign over

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the populace like the eidolon named Night from Edgar Allen Poe's, Dream-land. I suppose that is exactly what the world of my thoughts is: a dream-land. The real world finds me in an infinitely less enjoyable position. I am a spineless coward, insecure in myself and unable to muster the will to take any step towards improving the quality of my existence. Despite the fact that I am blessed with luxuries that most don't have, I am apathetic. Even in the face of adversity, I remain unfazed and uncaring. I neglect my hygiene to the point of disgusting those around me. I am infatuated with a pathetic fantasy world that is obviously a product of my shallow, meaningless life. Dream-land is basically a necessary antithesis of reality—artificial flavoring if you will. I take some (but not much) comfort in the knowledge that I am at least intelligent enough to analyze and understand my delusions. That is supposed to be the mark of a true philosopher: the ability to analyze ones own delusions. It is for this reason that I have chosen to write this. I feel that we live in times that are in need of a new philosopher; someone who realizes both his inadequacy and his greatness; his kindness and his cruelty; his love and his lust. That someone is me—or it isn't. Only my time and your ridicule will tell. It is amazing how many people can formulate a rationale to justify their actions or further their cause. Obviously, logic is not flawless. It is, in all honesty, very flawed. Different minds make different connections and have different prejudices; therefore we are inclined to side with the rationale that best

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rewards us. We will actively and consciously defy what we know to be true in order to obtain our ideal. But what, if anything, do we know to be true? Well, according to Descartes, the only knowledge we truly possess is that of the existence of our own thoughts. Sadly, it is the true nature of this thought stream that is so often raped and mutilated by institutions such as religion, politics and the education system. But if logic is flawed, how is one supposed to advance an argument? It is a question that is probably bubbling in your mind right now. The answer is simple enough—one can't. So then, why bother to attack logic in the first place? Because far too many people have forgotten that logic can be imperfect. It should seem obvious, when there are so many contradicting ideas out there, but it has become so blatant and common that it is rarely ever perceived anymore. I want all who read this to realize that logic is not natural law, and we have no standardized system of it. The truth is that logic is a blunt force instrument, used as a weapon or a shield for institutions that have no true merit. Religion- Pious logic is the most dangerous and flawed of all the forms of logic. It is logic that only makes sense if one is willing to blindly accept the unprovable as fact. In the case of Christianity, all that is required is a belief in God. Christian logic states that God created the universe and knows and sees all things. Therefore, his opinions are automatic facts. His opinions, as well as his guidelines for living, are all collected in a

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book entitled The Holy Bible. So, it can be logically assumed that The Bible is always right and any other logic is just the flawed logic of man. This only works, however, if you believe in God. But when you try to rationalize the existence of God, you end up with the following paradox: Christians believe in God because The Bible told them to, and they believe in The Bible because God told them to. Atheists like myself are all too familiar with this circular reasoning. Politics- Political logic is too often based upon something that is initially just propaganda. A clever politician knows how to confuse even the most intelligent of people, simply by hiding the lack of substance behind a wall of euphemous logic. All the rationality in the world means nothing if it is built upon a foundation of nothingness. Advertising- If you drink beer, beautiful women will want to have sex with you. If you have any problem spotting the flaw in that logic, then you need to go take some cyanide, because you're a waste of existence. Law- Justice System logic is reliant on the infallibility of the justice system. That is all the justification they feel they need. Any logic beyond that point is simply for decorative purposes. Example: prostitution is illegal, but as comedian George Carlin has often pointed out, it makes little sense for there to be a law against selling a thing which is legal to give away. Notice a trend? Sound reasoning is often corrupted by extremely illogical suppositions at the foundational level. I

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suggest that you be extremely careful when considering a new idea. Always check the building material used for the foundation on which any rationale is based. But be wary, for distortions don't always occur at the foundation. KEEP IN MIND- Even though I try to base all my logic on fact (or at least well thought out opinion), I am human, and just as liable to make an error in rationality as anyone. Do not consider anything I say through out the course of this book as being anything more than one man's thoughts and ideas. I hope that my ideas will feed your own, just as all of your ideas have fed mine. We must share knowledge and opinion with one another for as long as we are able. We may get our Nietzschian Ubermensche yet. It could be you.

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The God(dess) speaks Say this unto the world of man. This is the word of the god(dess) called dull throbbing as transcribed by the servant of reality and unreality—which are one in the same—Terroja. I have given him his name to celebrate his significance and expose naked his irrelevance. He is a living martyr . . . thus, he is a contradiction. Thus, an apt (anti)prophet for this age. I do not exist. I am a figment of his imagination. I exist. I am an imagination of his universe, which has an effect upon this larger universe—the mind of the one true God. But let us not concern ourselves with Him. He is too important to be relevant. He is concerned with His own gods, and they with theirs. Acknowledge the limitations of infinity. Embrace the vastness of personal destiny. An endless field of reflection, as a man standing between two giant mirrors will see an army of clones of himself—so are the gods of mortals. Every god is a mortal. Every mortal is a god. The hierarchy is endless. Thus, position is irrelevant. You are the slave to, and master of, infinity. Do not fear or fret if you fail to grasp this concept. Understanding is given sparingly. Do not shun what your mind does not grasp. Perhaps heart or soul will be quicker to understand.

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The Amazing Atheist

Mind=The universe. Your personal dull throbbing. I am mind. Heart=If your mind is the universe, then your heart is the eye that views it and interprets its meaning. Soul=Your soul is a string. Strings hold all things. How can it be known that this is truth? It cannot. But the truth is what it wants to be to who wants it to be. You demand concrete. Yet, you are given paper mache. But in building a statue, which would you prefer? If you seek ease, you will demand the paper mache. If you seek longevity, you will demand the concrete. Concrete statues crumble. You demand metal. Metal will rust. Nothing is eternal, save for existence itself, growing and changing. "Sophistry!" you say. I try to sell you the flawed. Yes and no. I give you what you want. And that is the only truth that you will ever accept. How can you discriminate when you only accept what sounds good to you? The rational man says, "I do not believe this." The rational man ignores a heart and soul that beg aloud in his mind for him to accept the burden of true multireality— which is both reality and unreality. Or, if you prefer, perception and imagination. Thus, he that embraces only concretions is no more rational than he who embraces only abstractions.

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The Amazing Atheist

Wisdom lies not in choosing one or the other, but in recognizing the place of both.

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OBSERVATIONS, INTROSPECTIONS & APHORISMS LOVE AND HATE—It’s easy to hate. It’s fun to hate. It’s comforting, like the buzz from a few pints of ale. It courses through

your

veins,

throbbing,

reassuring

you

or

your

superiority. When you hate a man, it’s easy to watch him die. When you hate a cause, it’s funny to see that cause fail. When you hate yourself—truly despise your every breath—there’s nothing that can stand in your way. It’s hard to love. It’s miserable to be in love or to love a thing. It’s stifling, like smoke in the air. It courses through your veins, making you feel small and useless. When you love a person, it’s easy for them to stab you in the back. When you love a cause, it’s easy for that cause to consume you. When you love yourself—truly adore your every breath—you have everything to lose. BEAUTY—I am the dirt streaked against your windshield, stretched thin, cracked, ugly—but the light shines through me. I've never seen anything breath-taking. I've never had a moment in my life where my breath was stopped by the sheer perfection of a sight. I've known the intensity of fear, of hate, of self-loathing—but never beauty. Everything that's supposed to be lovely is offset by the ugliness of my heart. How could I, who lies and hurts at every juncture, look at the beauty of a sunset and feel anything but

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wretched? The light of beauty only serves to illuminate my emptiness. I would like to watch a city burn to the ground from a nearby hillside, huge flames reaching from the buildings to the sky, blotting out the stars with their smoke. That would take my breath away. That would make me feel alive. What does that say about me? PERFECTION—Being perfect is just another imperfection. GREAT MEN—More great men have died than have ever lived. ABSOLUTE FREEDOM—In a world of absolute freedom, you own yourself. What you own, you can sell. Therefore, you can sell yourself; you can become another person’s property. But then, what if you change your mind? Can you tell them that they no longer own you and leave? If you can, then what did they buy? If you can’t, then even absolute freedom isn’t absolute. TRUTH—If the truth is hurtful to someone you care about and a lie is pleasant (and if it is your desire to please them and not to hurt them) then you should be true to your desires and lie to them. It is the most honest course of action. DECEPTION—The contrary nature of humanity renders the masses more easily deceived by an outright lie than a half-truth.

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MISANTHROPY—Misanthropes are the truest humanists. Anyone with love for the human race will find themselves so daily filled with bitterness and disappointment that hatred will become their only means of expressing their love. RESORT TO VIOLENCE—Why do people always talk about having to “resort to violence.” People like violence. They don’t resort to it. If anything, people resort to discussion/compromise. GREATNESS—Humanity is the antithesis of greatness. Only when we cease to be human will we begin to be great. GREATNESS 2—Who is it that says that not all men can be great? Surely all men can be great in some respect. Otherwise, why should they exist at all? FEASIBLE GOODNESS—Don’t confuse what’s feasible with what’s just. Don’t confuse what’s possible with what’s good. THE STRANGER—In this age of constant distraction, we find ourselves very uncomfortable in the moments where we are alone and undistracted. To be alone in this times is the be trapped in a room with a stranger. SMALL-MINDED GREED—Greed is not a vice. Shortsightedness is. So often, the want for a few trinkets in the

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immediate costs us the cooperation that could have yielded all of us riches beyond measure. ACHIEVING POWER—A gang of unremarkable thugs will prevail over the most remarkable of men without fail. Individuals cannot achieve power by opposing the masses, only by controlling them. THE CRUX OF POWER—The more leashes your hold, the wider and weaker your grip will become. THE FALLACY FALLACY—When you remove all fallacies from an argument, you wind up with nothing more than disagreement for the sake of disagreement—which is the truth behind all of our disputes, but it’s a boring truth so it can go fuck itself. ALL TRAGEDY IS CONTRAST—Something is alive, then it is dead. Flesh is intact, then it is not. A building stands, then it does not. These are tragedies. A man dies slowly of a terminal illness. Skin cells die off over time. A building becomes dilapidated and is eventually condemned. These are (though possibly sad) not tragedies. Why not?

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MY PERSONAL STANDARDS OF TRUTH x That which is not paradoxical is not true. x That which is boring is not true. x That which is comprehensible is not true. x That which is not frightening is not true. x That which is true is probably still not true.

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Wherein I make this book longer so I can charge more for it.

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GOLDEN ARCH NEMESIS Little boys with tits! Could life possibly be more amusing? The corpulent spawn of bovine Americans waddling around on the slick floors McDonalds’ across the nation, sweating pure grease and heaving with exhaustion—it’s so fucking adorable that it makes me want to stomp on a litter of kittens while singing the national anthem. It makes me so proud that I want to tattoo the American flag to my putrid little penis and expose myself to old women at the supermarket. A friend of mine once told me that when fat people are burned to death in a fire, the odor that their charbroiled blubber leaves behind is exactly identical to the smell of a McDonalds. Makes you want double quarter-pounder (what a ludicrous name) with cheese, doesn’t it? Ugliness—that’s the contribution of Mickey D’s to this fine nation. Making the landscape more ugly with its endless golden arches, making people more ugly with their fattening “food”—making children jones for burgers like crackheads jones for their next hit. Damned evil cunts. Still, they’ve got good eats.

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RATED XXX How pissed would you be if I’d just filled this book with little X’s? That shit would have been so funny. Xxx xxxx xxx xxxxxx xxx xx xxxx xx xx x x xxxxxx xx x x xxxx xxx xxxxxx xxxxx xxx xxxx xxx xx xx xx x x xxx

xxxx xx

x xxxx xxxx. Tell me there’s not a part of you that wouldn’t be impressed by that? “Holy shit, that dumb ass tricked me into buying nothing! What a cunt!” Oh, how I’d laugh. How I’d laugh with your beautiful money fattening my wallet. MWAHAHAHA!!! You’re lucky I’m such a nice guy.

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BIG BLACK DICKS I notice that black guys don’t complain too much about being categorized as well-endowed, nor do I hear too many complaints from Asians about being labeled as good at math. If a black man can hold the belief that he is a better dancer than most white men then why is he so offended by the notion of many whites that their race is generally intellectually superior? It seems to me that racism is either valid or its not. Those who fight against it need to stop allowing exceptions, or they undermine their own cause.

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INTERNET CELEBRITY IS A FATE WORSE THAN HELL When I was 15, I would have done anything for even the smallest taste of fame, but now that I’ve had the smallest taste of fame I’d castrate myself with a toothpick before wanting even one more subscriber to my Youtube channel. Imagine the stupidest, most annoying person you’ve ever met. Now imagine that person being annoyed to death by the people who write me letters everyday. I get about 10 to 20 private messages on youtube per day and they fit into four basic categories. 1. Horrifying. 2. Revolting. 3. Sickening. 4. “There’s no way this is a real person” The sentence “amacing athiest u fucken rock” is the most horrible thing I have ever seen. How could anyone who enjoys my videos be so fucking stupid? I’d rather have one million of the most vitriolic invective-spewing detractors than even one stupid fan. You’re writing to me, yet you can’t spell my name? How is that even fucking possible? You had to type my name to send me the message, so you must know how to spell it or it never would have reached me! You fucking people are mud—made of dirt and piss.

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Just look at a few common comments I receive on any given video: “GET A LIFE!” What does that mean, exactly? Is a stranger actually being so presumptuous as to criticize my use of my time? What sort of twisted sense of values would lead anyone to believe that they are in a better position to arrange my affairs than I am? I have a sneaking suspicious that the sort of people who compress the coal of my cohesion into this priceless little diamond of invective (a gem of counter-wisdom) are actually saying that instead of spending my time making videos about issues of interest or concern to me, I should be drinking alcohol and having sexual intercourse with inebriated girls in an environment of negligible consequences. If my presumption is correct, I wonder why it is that they themselves use so much time that could be devoted to the aforementioned promiscuities to instead watching videos that they very apparently find distasteful or boring. “YOU’RE FAT!” Indeed I am, keen observer! How magnificent your perception must be to notice such a well-concealed characteristic! I am truly in awe of your perceptive abilities. Your skills are wasted here on the internet! You should apply them, instead, to the field of espionage. Provided that the enemies are dragging around heavy briefcases with huge red lettering reading “TOP SECRET”

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stamped across the side, you’ll undoubtedly perform all missions with an aptitude hitherto unheard of among government field agents. “YOU’RE A FAGGOT!” You’re a failed psychic. “ALL YOU DO IS MAKE VIDEOS ALL DAY!” I average about one video per day. My videos are typically around six or seven minutes in length. A seven minute video takes seven minutes to shoot, seven minutes to to my computer, five minutes to render, 5 minutes to . Comments can be checked at my convenience. All in all, I spend about

24 minutes a day (on average--it’s often more of less)

dedicated to my own videos. But let’s say I spent an hour. That’s still 23 hours a day left to work, read, fap, watch other people’s videos, listen to music, go to movies, go out to eat or anything else that I feel like doing. In summary, you’re a douchetard. FUN FACT: Microsoft Works Word Processor tries to change “douchetard” to “documentary.” “I’M AN ATHEIST, BUT I STILL THINK YOU SUCK!” What bearing does your disbelief in God have on your feelings towards me? This comment implies that I am seeking the approval of all my fellow non-believers or that I am of the

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position that I am entitled to the automatic of atheists everywhere. This could not be further from the truth. The fact that a person shares my lack of belief in the big G does spark a modicum of endearment in me, but nothing that would sustain any lasting feelings of loyalty or friendship. In other words, fuck you too, buddy. “YOU MAKE ATHEISTS LOOK BAD!” Pardon the fuck out of me for not sticking to some lame ass party line at all times. I have my own ideas and opinions—if that’s something you’re against, then you can kiss every square centimeter of my golf ball-dimpled ass. You never elected me. I never hired you as a consultant. You never paid me to make my videos. I can’t see what in our relationship would lead you to the assumption that you have input on my content? Allow me to clear up this little misconception by stating definitively that I DO NOT GIVE A FUCK HOW I MAKE YOU LOOK. Personally, I think you make yourself look stupid when you say otherwise. “YOU CURSE TOO MUCH!” Fuck you. The fact that I deal with this shit on a daily basis would nominate me for sainthood in a world worth living in. I should be

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on the one dollar bill for the stupidity I have suffered at the hands of YouTubers with more spare time than good sense.

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STUPID BULLSHIT THAT I FUCKING HATE At Movie Theaters x Snack prices and anyone dumb enough to pay them. $3.50 for Twizzlers? Suck my fucking cock, AMC Theaters. I’ll buy that shit at the drugstore for 99 cents and sneak it in. Are you gonna pat me down? I don’t think so. x People who demand their money back when the movie fucks up for 10 whole seconds. If I were the theater manager, I’d waggle my dick at them when they demanded to see me. “Oh, you didn’t want a good glimpse of my man meat? I apologize. From your cock-hungry tone of voice, I thought that’s what you wanted.” x Clean floors. What the fuck is this shit? I like when I go to a movie theater and my foot sticks to the layer of congealed sugar (and semen?) on the floors. I like the sound it makes and I like the way it feels. x Commercials? Not only do I have to sit through 20 minutes of trailers for shit that I wouldn’t see unless some malevolent force with a Clockwork Orange eye-pry setup decided otherwise—now I’ve also got to endure insipid ments that assure me that Coca-Cola is the solution to all my problems in life.

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x Black people. The characters can’t hear you. SHUT THE FUCK UP. x Old people. You don’t need to explain the plot to whoever is sitting next to you. SHUT THE FUCK UP. x Teenage girls. Why did you come to a movie just to talk to on your cell phones? SHUT THE FUCK UP. x Movie geeks. No one cares what program the studio used to CG Tom Cruise into a non-midget. SHUT THE FUCK UP. x The kid behind me. If you don’t stop kicking my chair, I’m going to tear off your legs and use them to plug up your fat mother’s used twat so that she can’t sick any more little fucktards like you on decent folk like myself. x Stupid people who insist on using the automatic ticket machine. If you’re too stupid to figure it out, wait in line with the rest of the dimwits. Dealing With People x When someone is close enough behind you that you would feel impolite not holding the door for them, but far enough behind you that you have to stand there for

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longer than is comfortable, holding a door for some stranger who doesn’t even say thank you or give you a nod of respect of anything. Who the fuck does he think he is? x The way people act more repulsed by obese women then they actually are just to seem cool in the eyes of their friends. x People who point my height out to me. “Wow! You’re tall!” Wow! You’re stupid! x Screaming kids. Leave your spawn at home if they can’t handle the stress of being at Wal-Mart. It’s bad enough that I have to be around obnoxious hordes of adults, I don’t need the ear-splitting bellyaching of brats too. x Small talk. Who gives a fuck how I am today, you ugly fucking cunt. Put my buttplug and SLUT paddle in the bag and hand me my receipt so I can go about my day— and don’t tell me to have a nice one. I haven’t had a nice day since 1995 and I don’t plan on repeating the experience any time soon. x People who take my humor seriously and my seriousness as humor. That’s pretty much all of you.

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x Listening to someone’s problems and awkwardly feigning sympathy when all I want to do is scream, “I don’t fucking care!” at the top of my lungs. x People who quit smoking and then tell everyone else how bad smoking is for you the next day as if they’ve never touched a cigarette in their lives. x Babies. Whenever I hear a story about some guy who raped a baby, I laugh my ass off. x Women who say things like, “Who cares what Paris Hilton is doing! This isn’t news!” and then watch two hours of Paris Hilton coverage. x People who spout uncourageous and uncontroversial opinions as if they were cutting edge. “I don’t mean to be offensive, but I don’t like Terrorists.” Wow. What a brave fucking stance on the issue. I’ll be impressed the day that someone says to me, “I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks, I like Osama Bin Laden. He just seems like the kind of guy I’d have a beer with.” In The Media x Princess Di. A spoiled bitch went splat because she couldn’t handle the strain of being photographed on her way back to her mansion. She’s not worth the salt of the

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tears wasted on her. I could have sprinkled that shit on my eggs, you wasteful bastards. x

Fox News has a conservative slant. Fine. That’s obvious. Quit pointing it out as if you’re Noam fucking Chomsky just for being smart enough to notice.

x Nancy Grace is worse than every child molester she demonizes. Her face is like a sack of moldy prunes that someone puked on. Her voice is like the contents of a spittoon

being

lapped

up

by

a

dozen

starving

Chihuahuas. If someone put lipstick on a rattlesnake and gave me a choice between kissing Nancy Grace or the rattlesnake, I’d tell the EMT to have some antivenom standing by. x Bill O’Reilly’s ratings are only as high as they are because people watch him as a comedy show, so quit shitting yourselves liberals. x Al Franken isn’t funny. And I don’t mean Bob Saget not funny or Andrew Dice Clay not funny. Al Franken is staring at a beige wall not funny. Why is this guy called a comedian? That’s like calling a dog that laps up it’s own sick a chef.

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x Fuck the Anniversary of some shit that happened once. Do you mean to tell me that nothing else happens on September 11th but the anniversary of some planes crashing into a few buildings and offing a k’s worth of homo sapiens? That’s old news. We all it. Those of us who don’t are either stupid or Alzheimer’s patients. Light a candle. Sing a song. Then get back to the real items of the day. You know, important stuff like Paris Hilton’s latest public display of gross insipience. In The Bedroom x Dommes with delusions of grandeur. You spank my ass for one reason and one reason only, bitch—because that’s what I want from you. Nature has seen to it that I could smack you in the face and tell you to piss off if I so chose. Too often I’ll go on the internet and visit the websites of dommes who think that they’re going to set up a matriarchal utopia where men are their servants. You provide a service. That’s all. Supply and demand, bitch. Look it up. x Toothy blowjobs. What the hell? My dick is tiny. It’s not like it’s an explosion of flesh in your mouth—you should be able to keep the teeth off of it. x Not having had enough sex in my life to actually make this list a decent length.

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AMUSING ALTERNATIVES TO ABORTION For some reason, Christians have gotten it in their heads that God doesn’t want us vacuuming fetuses right out of the womb before they have a chance to drive everyone batshit with their unending chorus of high-pitched mewling. Luckily for us, the moral majority doesn’t care what happens to people after they’re out of the womb, so here are some fun uses for those unaborted babies guaranteed not to rile any religious zealots with their gears stuck in the 12th century.

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THANKSGIVING DINNER In case you haven’t noticed (and who hasn’t, honestly?) babies are roughly the same size as Thanksgiving turkeys. Those unwanted November tots, properly trussed, can make a delicious meal for you and your family. That’s good eatin’! FOOTBALL This gives a whole new meaning to playing catch with your son! Though heavier and less wieldy than the old pig skin, an otherwise typical game of drunken backyard football with the guys can be livened up considerably by substituting Junior for the ball. Play until the ball gets limp, stops crying and is cold to the touch. SHOT PUT The premise of the game is exceedingly simple—you just throw the shot (usually a small metal ball weighing around 8 lbs.) as far as you can. Normally, this game is played on a wide, grassy field. However, when using a brat for your shot, I recommend a debris-strewed alleyway—the rats and pigeons will take care of cleanup. SNAKE FOOD If it can eat a bunny, it can eat a baby.

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PENNY You could drop a penny off the empire state building, sure. But why waste money? With gas prices how they are and the stock market’s recent instability, can you really afford to be tossing pennies off skyscrapers or into wishing wells like you used to? The solution is obvious—babies instead of pennies—everyone loves that delightful SPLAT! they make. DECORATIONS Take little Sally on a trip to the taxidermist! Trust me, she’ll be better off as a cup holder than a stripper (you’re a shitty parent—all your kids will wind up in sex industry jobs if you let them grow up). Besides, if you ever decide to keep a kid for some reason, seeing that their older sibling wound up a cherub on the mantle will get them to bite their insolent little tongues. If you are offended by this list, then allow me to remind you that babies are nothing but bug-eyed little doughy sacks of perpetually leaking piss and shit that adults have tricked themselves into finding adorable. “But, Amazing Atheist, they’re human beings!” So were the Nazis. Are you pro-Nazi? Racist.

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I WANT TO KILL MYSELF WHEN I GROW UP Hunter S. Thompson blew his brains out on my birthday, which is also Kurt Cobain's birthday. It's odd, because sometimes I feel like I'm somewhere in between the two—part brooding loner, part raging truth-seeker. My writing lacks the fire of Thompson's, and it lacks the poetry and irony of Cobain's, but it's naked and self-revealing in the same way theirs were. I feel like I'm the heir to that throne sometimes—the suicide genius, the man who loves the whole world by hating himself.

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Can one declare them self such a thing, or is that for the people to decide? I’d hate to think that it's in the hands of such a small-minded bunch of miserable cretins. But, the idea that it's in my hands is even worse in many ways. This is such livejournal shit. I bet you feel stupid for paying 20 dollars for this. Fucking idiots! Eh, cheer up! It's all good, right? What the fuck does it matter in the long run? We're all just biding our time until the day we become corpses. Everything we do from the cradle forth is just a distraction from the grave, a way of denying how fragile our lives are, how death is getting nearer and nearer. It's a cruelty of nature that a being should have to understand the concept of death. We have so long fought against it with fanciful notions of an afterlife that is far better than our small lives here on earth. "This is all you get," are the most hopeless words that could ever be spoken in the ears of most people. Death is not “far away.” It isn’t “just a transition.” It’s close, and it’s forever.

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SCVMBAG: The final musing

I am the scum of the earth, and if you've gotten this far then so are you. We laugh about dead babies, hate our fellow man, view the majority of people as insects who are ruining the world for superior beings like us. We're like comic book super villains, sans all those nifty superpowers. It’s

lonely

here,

isn’t

it?

Dark.

Cold.

Almost

uninhabitable. Our only joys are sadistic. They take as much out of us as they give us. When we love, it’s not with purity, not with a new lightness in our steps. We love heavy. We love like tar and broken glass glinting in the light of a bloody moon. People often tell me that I’m full of hate. They tell me that I don’t love anything. Do people say that to you? Do you similarly think about them dying horribly for their stupidity? I love a great many things. I love the sound leaves make when they are blown across the pavement in autumn.

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I love the smell of gasoline, all thick and intoxicating with undercurrents of masculine cruelty. I love to watch a girl put on gloves. She has to do it just right—with that little tug at the end to make sure they’re tight against her fingers. I love to see two people who truly love one another, holding one another, oblivious to the world and its litany of woes. It makes me sad, because I know that I don’t have the capacity for love like that—but my sadness is another thing that I love. I love dirty jokes. They make me feel like such an antichrist, so callous—the illusion of invulnerability. I love an ass that’s too big for the girl it belongs to; one that juts out like a balloon. I want to stick my face in it and worship with every ounce of unspent religious fervor in my cobweb-laden soul. And I love hate. Believe it or not, this book started off as a suicide note. I wanted to die (the reasons aren’t important), but first I wanted to capture everything I was into a book. I wanted to encapsulate myself in paper and ink. But the more I wrote, the more I realized the strangest of all truths, the strangest of all loves. I realized that, for all my faults, I love myself. I love being a dirty, foul-mouthed, hypocritical, lying, cheating, manipulating sleaze ball who walks around with an air of tactless conceit. I like that fact that I’m lazy and that I’m probably quite stupid when you get right down to it.

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I love being a scumbag. I hope that this book has made your love being a scumbag too. The Amazing Atheist, September 13th, 2007

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To TJ, For sharing his head with me, Terroja, for 10 years now.

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Illustrators: Front & Back Cover By: Cody Weber & The Amazing Atheist Pages 17, 45, 69, 89, 99, 115 by Ben McCarty – http://ben-m.deviantart.com/ Page 12 by the unreachable Lisa Sutton Page 23 by Studio7Manga – http://www.studio7manga.com Pages 29, 51 by Ann Brown Page 56 by ???? (if you drew the fucking thing, let me know and I’ll credit you in the next edition) Page 70,135 by http://banyah87.deviantart.com/ Page 94 Budhag Rizzo http://.aol.com/BudhagArt/art.html Pages 100, 130 by Sveinung Sveinungsen AKA Dendrophilian http://youtube.com/profile?=dendrophilian Page 133 by Daniel Trujillo myspace.com/thejoybrigade 141 by Sl Bauer

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I hope you enjoyed the book. Send reviews or point out typos at: [email protected]

PEACE THE FUCK OUT. - 141 -