Author Topic: Just me  (Read 629 times)

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Offline Loke

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Just me
« on: July 09, 2010, 08:41:38 PM »
I spent some hours reading the testimonies lately and decided to contribute my story for what is worth. There was the terrible account from Str82Hell that inspired me, as I share some of his experiences albeit in almost benign ways, so here it goes.

This story involves 3 generations and set in the border area of Denmark and Germany. There are both Danish and German minorities on either side of the border and they are/where very active on asserting their own national identity. Funnily the “cultural” divide is only about language and passport, the difference of those people are minute compared to the difference of their respective “living in the capital population”.

Being born was not of my free own will, me - I would probably stayed were I was, but then I was pushed out and luckily having no memories of this at all, I somehow accept that as a fact. Now the first real facts appear on paper are certificates of being born and have had my hair/scalp wetted by a priest (Am I now a christian and where I atheist before?).

Continuing with my complete ignorance of life/memory in an selfish universe, my universe, consisting of boobs, attention and care and I somehow fulfilled my mamas expectations/desires which were littered with soiled diapers, auditive annoyances and some laughter.

My first memories are of little importance in this matter, therefore I open up with my first direct contact with religion that I remember. Its crude, its my mother who is my first and 3. grade “knowledge of christianty” teacher in school and she tries really hard to teach acceptable/moral/ethical passages from the bible, I have no idea why she picked some from the OT, (maybe it was hard to find anything worthy in the NT), but she did. It was about a king judging two mothers, one had lost her child and the one living was fought about. You know the story and I was flabbergasted to hear the moral of this story or more rightly the justification of this ruse. This king was portrayed as wise – an example to other men to threaten with unthinkable deeds. I had the privilege to ask my mama question outside school, so I learned more about the bible and what her thoughts where on it and what her own mothers appreciation was of it too. My grandma was a tough cookie, rational, in control and up to a certain time working the church organ. Maybe I should inform you that all my ancestors on my mothers side were teachers within the aforementioned 3 generations or at least two of them. My grandma set forth to read the bible in an age of 16-17 and got bogged down early on her cover to cover quest, she played the part of the believer and even supplied the music.

5. grade was an awakening to me, new school and the headmaster dishing out chistianity on me and others. No questions – only reciting or learning by heart or whatever. These where without doubt the most boring hours of my life, he learned me to hate religion and to cheat. First brake/pause/orwhatever each day included him reciting the jesuspledge and us singing a sycophantic hymn to a something that doesn't exist. I fainted on one occasion and this did make up for the pocketknives and firecrackers this clown confiscated or I like to think so. In my mind the only thing I can be proud of is fainting – I was a meek, distant, different child that got unwanted attention and not only from this creepy idiot headmaster. But there were of course nicer parts and they had nothing to do with religion – I love history and learned that religion managed to fuck up history as well, well my interest then goes up to about 1100 and resumes at 1900. Later I revised my stand on that, don't be alarmed, I'm catching up or its in progress.

Communion is a strange thing, my elder sister did it and I blindly followed suit, not blindly maybe, my choice was about another year with the hated headmaster or a faroese priest without breaking the tradition. So I was partially aware that I lied under communion. I cant really descripe my mind as a 13-14 year old, the one thing I remember is the refusal to intertwine my hands and be humble even if I bowed my head at said communion.

After my communion I gave it very little thought, my rebellion against my parents, mostly against my father had no religious connotations and the farther was absent and divorced, lucky lucky me.

Then I got too “old” to argue about religion and thankfully it did not reach out for me at all. I was spared the goodwill of those who know it all and let you in on their secrets step by step.

Lets go back in my narrative look at some cold facts, my farther behaved like an idiot and he quit church(nice), but then took up stupidities like homoeopathy, astrology and what can be translated as earth radiation, crap that made him feel esoteric and sooo fucking special. A committed nazi, communist or esoteric are religious people too in my mind. Isn't all about being special, chosen and keeper of ancient truth, being better than your fellow man or woman?

More than 80% in my country are members of the statechurch. All of my nearest are too and it saddens me as they only are superficial religious, the near death part (80+) are very unsettled by my words. The complete irony is that my own mother holds on to her “cultural christianity” and thinks that the traditions are the superglue of relationship and that christianity is a part of it. An enlightened person that at midsummer will join the mock burning of a witch with joy of tradition. Just once there should be a priest on that pyre or just all of them.

So I ranted forth and forgot about my initial concept at best I related half of what was on heart.


Cogito ergo impius