I'm My Own Atheist

Alright, kids! I’ve been seeing a few things on the old Facebook news-feed that have been pissing me off, lately. As much as I’d like to delete my profile and flip everyone the bird, I’m stuck. Unfortunately, being an actor does require one to maintain a certain element of two-facedness. I’m not even remotely famous enough yet to where I can get away with expressing too much bile and hatred without being black-balled from the artistic community altogether. That’s why I keep this blog. It’s separate from my FB profile entirely, and so far it seems no one reads it. This obviously serves as a kind of double-edged sword. I've no one to stroke my extremely needy ego, but I’m also safe to spew off as much hate as may tickle my fancy without fear of repercussion from any casting directors that might have their prying eyes on my Facebook status and latest tweets. So, here’s goes.

As the title of this article suggests, I am indeed an atheist. I've been one for some time. I won’t bore you with the tiny details. Just suffice to say it works for me, and I’m happy with my discovery. As most of you know an atheist essentially does not believe in the existence of a supreme being, and more often than not it follows that said person does not practice any kind of religion whatsoever. That’s not to say that I am not indeed spiritual. I have a passion for my art, and all the ritualistic practices that go with it.

Having said that, I’m not just ANY atheist.  I’m my own Atheist. By that I mean I still hold onto my principals. I’m polite, respectful, courteous, and I can coexist with my religious neighbors. To me that is what a true atheist is. That is, someone who truly realizes in the strictest sense that no religious stimuli from any source can possibly affect them. Why? Because it’s just fantasy, that’s why.

In other words, just because you are atheist doesn't mean you have to get in the faces of god fearing people and tell them they need to get a fucking life or blow it out their ass. Atheists don’t need to bellyache and whine about the Ten Commandments being displayed in a courthouse. Atheists don’t need to constantly shoot their damn mouths off about war memorials that feature Stars of David, and Crucifixes. It doesn’t affect us. No atheist with any common sense is going to waste their time starting a campaign to have large crosses removed from freeway hillsides because it “infringes upon their own civil liberties,” and makes them feel “uncomfortable.” Again, crosses don’t affect us. It's just an object. 

Constantly second-guessing other people who have developed a long standing belief-system based on upbringing, or years of personal experience is not being an atheist. That’s just being an ASSHOLE! Plain and simple. You have atheism, and then you have ASSHOLISM. Unfortunately, most celebrity atheists fall into this latter lunatic fringe of the atheist community.

Listen, if you are a school teacher that also happens to be an atheist, then you are at an advantage. Good for you. Your job should be easier. You are not allowed to talk about god at work, and that’s fine, because you would never want to anyway.

However, you do not have the right to walk up to students who are giving a prayer of thanks over their lunch in the cafeteria and say to them “Hey, quit that. This is a public school.” You can’t do that. If a student pulls out a tiny bible during reading period and begins to leaf through it you cannot say to that student, “Put that away, I don’t wanna see it.” You are not allowed to do that, either. It’s against the law, and it’s downright rude. That student is protected by the first amendment. That is freedom of religion. You may think, “Well, isn't that a double standard?” Nah, it’s not. I’ll explain why. You are being paid to be there. They are not. The law requires that they be there. No truant officers are going to come knocking on your door if you someday decide to quit being a teacher. That’s your prerogative. Students don’t have that option. They are there because the state says they have to be there. Let them have their little alone time with their little comic book that’s got a cross on the cover, and get on with your work. Once again, this does not affect you.

If you hand out a writing assignment to your students asking them to write about a “hero” in their lives, and an eight year old girl picks Jesus Christ, more power to her. It’s not your place to grade her based on her opinions and her religious beliefs. Separation of Church and State, remember? That means you can’t discuss religion with the kids AT ALL, regardless of whether it’s favorable, or NEGATIVE. If the kid writes about Jesus, then the kid writes about Jesus. That is that. Here’s what you look for as a teacher. You look for spelling errors. You check for good grammar, punctuation, capitalization, and sentence structure. See if the narrative flows smoothly. Then if there’s time you see if she put her name and the date in the top right hand corner of the page. If that is said and done then you are good to go. You give a decent grade and you move along to the next student. You don’t write in BIG FUCKING RED LETTERS at the top of page “Don’t talk about Jesus.” You don’t demean, humiliate, undervalue, and objectify a child like that. You just don’t do it. If any teacher reading this does not share this view then that teacher has no business being in a classroom. They have no business around children at all for that matter. That is a cold, calculating, condescending, and narrow-minded individual that would probably be much better suited to making pretzels for a living. Pretzels don’t have feelings, unless of course you feel like you are playing God when you make them. That might be different.

Anyway the point is that a true atheist should be just that. An atheist and that’s it. It should only apply to you and you alone. Leave everybody else the fuck out of it. Unless they ask you for an opinion, then by all means open your trap and fire away. That’s my system. Assholism is an entirely different thing. It’s when not only do you not believe a God exists, but you hate the concept of worshiping a God SO much that you hate everybody who does worship God. Not only are you an atheist, but you spend your every waking moment trying to turn everyone else into an atheist also. You are combative, arrogant, and egotistical. You are insulting. You are vicious to people. You make veiled threats. In behaving that way you have become your own worst enemy. You are demonstrating all of the worst qualities of the very kinds of people you are fighting against. It’s like saying “keep that religion shit out of my face. Now, you better not believe in ANY of that mumbo jumbo on MY watch or I’ll burn you at the stake. Here’s a copy of National Geographic. There’s an article in there about evolution. READ THAT INSTEAD, OR I’LL BOX YOUR EARS.” You are now the shining and glowing example of everything that is wrong with organized religion. Congratulations! Want a statue? Here’s an Academy Award. That should suffice.

Alls I’m saying is try to honor the very essence of why atheists exist. We beg, and we plead the nut-balls that pound on our doors and shove copies of Watch Tower in our hands at the bus stops each day to please keep it to themselves. Why should we sink to their standards?

What makes us any better? Just be courteous. If you’re like me, and you don’t believe there is a God, good for you, but unless you’re provoked, keep it to yourself.

Barack Obama continuously compared to Hitler on FB, Twatter, and other social networks. What is wrong with this picture?

Okay, you fucks. I've kept my silence about this for long enough. Last time I checked, Barack Obama did not kill six million Jews. There also doesn't seem to be any evidence that he wiped out 1.8 to 1.9 million non-Jews from Poland. Furthermore, I haven't been able to locate any information that proves he's murdered around 500,000 to 1.2 million Serbs. To my knowledge, there also aren't any leads supposing that he is responsible for the deaths of about 800,000 Roma & Sinti, 300,000 handicapped people, approximately 200,000 Freemasons, 100,000 communists, between 10,000 and 25,000 homosexuals, or 2,000 Jehovah's Witnesses, either. Trust me, I've looked. Sorry, my conservative pig friends, but the information just isn't there. Go ahead and look for it yourself if you don't believe me. I defy you to find facts that our current President did any of these things. If you've got something show it to me. I'll eat my words.

Yet these idiots. These knuckle dragging dip-shits. These fuckwads who have obviously not read a single book in their entire god damned lives. These kindergarten drop-outs. These freaks who got straight D minuses in all of their history classes through school if they were lucky. They continue to post these psychotic memes on FB, and Twitter issuing "warnings" about Obama. I keep seeing these insane Photoshop images with Barack having a tiny black mustache. People shouting and screaming in front of Post Offices saying things like "He's Hitler. He's Hitler. He's a Dictator. Genocide, ruthless, totalitarian regime, police state" blah blah blah, yadda yadda yadda, bellyache bellyache bellyache.

HEY, IF YOU'RE DOING THAT, FUCK YOU!!!

THAT SHIT HAS GOT TO STOP. IT'S NOT FUCKING FUNNY, OKAY?

People were saying this about Bush too. I didn't like it then, either. It's offensive, and IT'S BULLSHIT. Plain and simple! I don't want to see it on my newsfeed, and I sure as FUCK don't want it on my wall. I will immediately unfriend and BLOCK anybody that puts something like that on my Facebook page. And mark me. If I see you on the street-I WILL BEAT THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF YOU, because you are an ignorant FUCKTARD and you are unfit to breath. Is that clear enough for you? Maybe that's being too dictator-like. I wouldn't want to come off as a Hitler, or anything like that.

The END!!!

1 – 26 – 2013 THE DIGITAL NO-MAN’S LAND

I truly get a kick out of scrolling the news feed on Fart Book. It’s like that comic strip Doonesbury. Everyone is busting heads about politics, religion, immigration, gay-marriage, gun control, terrorism, True Blood, American Idol, who in the Twilight series has the best ass. Nearly gives me appendicitis from laughing so damn hard.

               
            People truly are ludicrous. They don’t realize that the best reality show that exists is for a person like me to sit on the side-lines watching them go back and forth over who has the better opinion. I could record a one-person laugh track from all the combined guffaws I've had just this year, and it would sound a whole lot more convincing than that shit they use on “The Big Bang Theory.”

               
            It must have been nice living in the old days. That is, a day when you had heroes such as John Wayne, Robert Mitchum, Ernest Hemingway  John Huston, Sam Peckinpah, DiMaggio, etc. You pick a word fight with guys like that and they’d lay you out at the foot of the bar. Ah, good times. Nowadays people are all talk. They never follow through with anything. The default response is always, “Well, I’ll sue you.” Fuck off, I don’t give a shit. My credit is already in the toilet.

             
            People think they are these big god-damn heroes, just because they can demean someone from their computer. “I’m so brave. I can type filth on my keyboard, and transmit it to the world within seconds.” Let me ask you people something. What makes you any different from the tyrannical Military mind who presses the button in his own country, launching the missiles to another country full of brown people several thousand miles away? Not a fuckin’ thing. Your actions are just as damaging to the human psyche, and the societal impact is even more devastating, because it has longevity.

               
           If any of you had any balls you’d give up typing hate from that keyboard, and actually leave the house, and use it to smash someone’s skull. That would be more civilized, and productive I think than what you do already, which is sit in a dark living room, plunking out letters to your inferiors all the way on the other side of the world, safely sealed away within the confines of your vast digital solar-system, hiding behind a user-name, and free from any repercussion or retribution. Even if someone does say something right away that hurts your feelings, you can always find things to cheer you up quick. You've got porn just a few clicks away, after all.

I guess it’s the longevity of your actions that speaks volumes of your character. You must know at least on some deep subconscious level that what you print on the web will never disappear. You want that staying power. You lust after that so-called greatness of being able to leave your permanent shit-stain smeared all over the unsuspecting internet community. “See, I did that? That was me. My beautiful words are magnificent aren't they?” The words were never yours to begin with. You just vomited them out of your fingers in a different order from what they were in when they went into your ear.

The truth of the matter is, we are all going to be held accountable in some way. Whether by the law, karma, society, or America’s Got Talent is something that only time can tell. More often than not it will be the one true Supreme Being. That omnipresent God of Logic that we all know is there, because he exists right within the center of your own otherwise foolish heads. Him, her, it … whatever is always there acting upon your instinctual consciences impulses to tell you … “Um, you are a GOD DAMNED COWARD, and you are also completely full of shit.”

Some teacher once said “The only stupid question is the one you don’t ask.” Where is the god damn logic in that? How can it be a stupid question if there HAS BEEN no question? You all have the answer already. The more I watch humanity’s intellect dissolve into a real-life rendition of Brave New World, the more I realize that a person truly does learn a hell of a lot more by simply watching, remembering, and keeping their damn mouth SHUT. LEARN from the stupidity you see. Don’t copy it. Whether life imitates art, or it’s the other way around, I think we can all agree that most of the time the result is the same. Shit and shit both attract the same thing:  a whole lot of diseased flies.

I am by no means an innocent bystander here. I've been guilty of just as much self-inflicted character assassination as the next person. I know exactly what is going to destroy me someday, and it would accomplish nothing to sit and brood over it. I may as well continue to accomplish my goals while I wait. Once that destructive force arrives to block my path, by driving that proverbial Hemingway solution into my mouth, I’ll deal with it. But there’s no point in wasting however many years I have left on this filthy latrine of a world building myself a psychological bomb-shelter in the basement of my mind. When it happens, it happens, and no preparation will make it any less distasteful.

It just occurred to me in recent years that each and every person truly has their own judge and jury that will destroy them someday. There is one for every living human, and most people have several. The truth of the matter is, however, that no matter how many trillions of muses there are to condemn each and every person, all of us have three in common.

First there is the person that judges us from within. He is the harshest, and least merciful. “We are our own worst critics,” as the saying goes. That person is the monkey on our back from the day we are born, and he never leaves, since his claws are embedded within our soul and our psyche,’ and rightfully so. Who wants to go outside, after all, wearing a tie and coat that don’t match?

Next is the law. Not that the law serves much purpose anymore. It’s more of just a formality I think. It seems holding people accountable for anything, whether they are guilty of it, or not went out of style with the birth of Freudian psychology, The American Civil Liberties Union, and the phenomenon of waiting in line two and half fucking hours to sing Brittany Spears at “karaoke.” By that I mean that the law is a broken system of judgment, about as powerfully relevant to someone’s overall livelihood as is The Queen of England. It is a figure-head of menace, and nothing more. Just so long as you've got a slippery enough lawyer in your back pocket, one that kisses the asses of the correct special interest groups, and you live in the state of Florida. You’ll get away with it every time. Just ask Casey Anthony.

The next judge is society. These are the bystanders like me, who sit on the sidelines, enjoying the show while you go up in flames. These judges need no jury, and they've bypassed the appeals process entirely. Their justice system moves swiftly. They are your doctors, your teachers, your neighbors, your priests, your so-called fans, and even your family and friends. These folks are the quickest to rake you over the coals, and they don’t even need evidence. They won’t be confused with the facts, and unlike The American Bill of Rights, cruel and unusual punishment is their stock and trade. It was society that convicted Jesus, Joan of Arc, Joseph Hauptmann, Lee Harvey Oswald, James Earl Ray, OJ Simpson, Michael Jackson, and so on. The repercussions of their judgments are the worst kind. You wouldn't even need to be incarcerated to feel the heat of that kind of scrutiny, and you can often times wind up becoming a prisoner of your own shame. You can’t find work. You can’t create, or do things that are meaningful to you. Oftentimes death is the only solution, and sometimes not even that is an escape. For the residue of your personae will be left behind to continue experiencing that everlasting torment … and it will spread to those few that stood by you as well, creating snowballs of hate.

I’m sure I've outlined nothing new here. I firmly believe that this kind of insight is implanted deep within everyone’s brains from the moment they are born. Whether or not it gets activated and launched into your conscious is another story, however. You need the right code, and for some it never occurs. The only way that is ever going to change I suppose is when states finally start offering teaching credentials for Common Sense Courses in public school. That will never happen. Like Scatman Crothers said in the film “The Shinning.” “Some places are like people. Some shine, and some don’t.” Well, I think when it comes to common sense, some minds are like characters from “Twilight.” Some shine … most don’t. At least not anymore.

Pleasant dreams

T. Wilson

                

John Lynd's Scenes in Vacancy: A film by Steve Hosford

Dearly Departed Depicts Delightfully Delirious Death Debacle (I so love my Alliteration)

A key New Year’s Resolution for this glorious apocalyptic year has been to generally maintain a better attitude about things. More specifically, I intend to live by that age-old credo that when you have nothing positive to say, keep your fat stupid-looking trap shut, or in this case, do not extend your typing fingers. Rather, close them into fists, and step away from your computer. This will serve two purposes. First, it will prevent your hateful, bile-infested words from becoming visible to an unsuspecting world. Second, it will place you at the ready, should you feel the urge to find the nearest wall, and begin pounding your fists against it repeatedly until your knuckles are sore and bloody, while you rant and rave at the skies above, cursing the very essence of your pitiful existence and the nature of your own corrupted soul… but enough about my failed relationships.

No, instead let’s talk about something positive: Namely, a show about death. Dearly Departed at Chino Community Theatre is so much more, though. I am quite pleased and relieved to announce that none of my statements from the previous paragraph need apply here. I was delighted by this production. Indeed, if anything negative need to said, it’s a note that the programs lack a Surgeon General’s Warning alerting those who view it to the affect that they may laugh so hard at these characters that it may complicate pregnancy … even in the men. Indeed, I feel sterile after seeing this show (that’s a compliment).

Never before have I seen such a fascinating group of delightfully hateful characters portrayed so well by an ensemble cast. There is something for everyone in this show. That is to say, everyone who sees it will view a member of their own family up on that stage … whether they wish to own up to it, or not. The truth may be painful, but as New Orleans DA Jim Garrison once said, “Let the truth be told, though he Heavens fall.” The script, quite frankly, is brilliant in its own simple, vulgar and reptilian way. It appears as if the playwright took the heart and soul of every dysfunctional American family (which if, of course EVERY American family), and then vomited them up onto the page, so that the very essence of that regurgitation could be smeared onto any stage in the land to the director, and each corresponding actor’s content. Indeed, art imitates the human digestive system.

In a nutshell, the story centers on the Turpin family. They are a rather large Southern Baptist family who must assemble themselves despite adversity and the road-blocks resulting from the very train wreck that is their own lives to hold a funeral for their recently deceased father Bud Turpin (Steven Sotelo). Needless to say, each member's own failed aspirations and closeted skeletons manifest themselves in short-order, overshadowing this somber gathering, and hilarious pandemonium ensues.

Steven Sotelo (Bud Turpin/Junior) is a rare talent in that he already possesses the skill of a seasoned physical performer, which gives him the ability to simply step onto a stage and without even having to speak a word his facial expression and body posture alone are sufficient cause for one to collapse into violent fits of hysterical laughter tantamount to coughing spasms that often result from convulsions that are often associated with symptoms of tuberculosis (and I play Edgar Allan Poe, so I know exactly what that is). His skill was equally apparent last summer when I saw him in The Boys Next Door. In just a few years I see this kid becoming a skilled character actor equivalent in expertise to a 9^th degree black-belt in Jujitsu. He is definitely far more advanced than I was at his age… and I hate him for it.

Cyndi East portrays Raynelle, the matriarch/widower of the Turpin family and as always it is a delight to watch her work in such cantankerously close quarters with a collection of souls who quite frankly would probably find the harbors shut to them even at the Island of Misfit Toys. The defeatist cynicism she displays here grows on the viewer rather quickly; kind of like a fungus (again, that’s a compliment).

Lisa Lanier plays Marguerite, sister of the late Bud Turpin. What can I say? She embodies that bitter, holier-than-thou God freak persona with a humorous, but menacing foreboding so much so that it was all I could do to keep from falling out of my chair gut-laughing every time she entered with that terminal scowl tattooed on her face, as she began spewing those hateful Bible verses at her good-for-nothing son.

Which brings us to Tom Lively (Royce: Marguerite’s Son). Royce probably represents the biggest failure of the entire Turpin lot in that he not only has no money or job, but not even a hooker to pass off as his girlfriend. Ironically, I took him to be probably the most rational character in the story, and Mr. Lively hit all the marks without fail.

Bruce Hutchins (Ray Bud) as always is money in the bank. That is to say, he would be money in the bank in a perfect world. Specifically, a world where talented actors who captivate their audiences from the footlights are properly compensated for delivering the goods consistently, as opposed to this Hollywood World where it seems certain mental-rutabagas can easily be rewarded with million dollar lawsuit settlements from networks just for getting fired from their starring roles in their respective TV Sit-Coms due to their lack of skill in prioritizing their lives and sick-and twisted vices. But again, I fall into my old habits. Besides, that may be a run-on sentence. (Give me a break, I’m best known for acting talent, not prized grammar).

Paige Gulck (Suzanne). Ah, Paige Gulck! I have no shortage of affection for this woman’s talent and beauty. I fear, however, I must make this quick in the (unlikely) event that she reads this and gets the impression that I might be delving into “stalker-mode.” Suffice to say she has that multifaceted finesse for pretty, but ditsy femme fatales, as well as the scorned, and determined woman that we see here. I know she’s very bright, because I’ve had the good fortune of working with her regularly in John Lynd’s Dinner Theatre Murder Mystery Shows. This opportunity has also given me the luxury of uncovering the fact that not only do her and I share the same age, but the same birthday as well. I think it’s an omen … but again … I promised I wouldn't fall into stalker babblings. Unfortunately we live in an age where jokes are becoming obsolete. They have been replaced instead by lawsuits, and Homeland Security. Besides, I do have to work with her in The HMO Murders at the Sycamore Inn on February 15^th @ 7pm (that’s not too shameless a plug is it?). Yes, having her file a restraining order against me before then might complicate the stage blocking.

It goes without saying that director John Lynd’s skill for fine-tuning such cartoony and insane roles as these to such precision that their charm rivals even the most over-the-top Looney Tunes characters is unparalleled in the Inland Valley.

I wish I had more time and space to praise everyone in this show. Alas, this is after all my first review on this page, and I may have already overstayed my welcome with my obscene, and bitter rants on the general hypocrisies of human existence. I’ll simply close by stating the obvious. Though Dearly Departed may in fact be a show about death, it does, however depict that talent in the Inland Empire theatre community is very much alive, kicking, twitching, and spasming. We only need to feed it, cultivate it, and insure that is be given the proper fertilizer. Just so long as we prevent Jersey Shore from getting a spinoff in Chino, that shouldn’t be a problem.

Dearly Departed plays for two more weekends, Friday January 27th,   and February 3rd @ 8pm, Saturday the January 28th, and February 4th @ 8pm, and Sunday January 29th @ 2:30pm at the Chino Community Theatre, 13123 Seventh Street, Chino, CA 91710. Call the box office at 951-590-1149 for reservations. 

Travis Rhett Wilson (Corona’s Mr. Poe)
Sunday, January 22^th, 2012