I have just had the best week to have the worst week. I have just come home from possibly the most relaxing holiday imaginable. I was floating down a canal in Burgundy, experiencing incredible food, outstanding countryside, sumptuous luxury and extremely delightful company. The joy of such an amazing break was not overshadowed by the disasters that were occurring in my absence. In fact, the idyllic week on board La Belle Epoque pushed almost every disappointment, frustration and outrage firmly to the back of my mind. And I would like to thank every person involved in my week for that. You may not know how important you were.
I am an atheist because of many different reasons. I find the logical advancement of a species, through countless evolutionary changes and adaptations, a far more comfortable theory than a purposeful design by an unfathomable Creator. To give myself to a historically inaccurate and subjective transfer of unrecorded events seems dismissively simplistic considering the wealth of processing ability that the human brain possesses. While many of the teachings of all religions are admirable templates for a productive, socially aware and generous life, I believe that the founding principles of being a “good person” are a result of an inbuilt moral compass that is nurtured by society, but essentially a gift imbued by common sense and reasoned thought presented to, and by, the vast majority of all human beings. But these are not the strongest and most polarising reasons why I am an atheist.
I have never played golf. Not proper golf. I have flailed around like a hurricane embattled windmill on a seaside pitch and putt on a few occasions. I’ve also wondered how many real golf courses have to contend with negotiating a laughing pirate’s chomping jaws as I have on crazy golf, but I have never been to a real golf course to “play a round”.
I don’t usually try to be controversial. The fact that I am considered to be argumentative is primarily down to the fact that the people with whom I am conversing are predominantly wrong. In fact, in a “discussion” with a boss in the not so distant past, I saw his frustration in being wrong, manifest itself in a rather amusing lip twitch which I couldn’t help but stare at. This didn’t help him resolve the issue of his wrongness. In fact I think it may have magnified his ire, especially when I started to mimic it. Like two disproportionate Elvis’s (plural Elvi?) sneering at one another from non-confrontationally positioned office chairs. Incidentally, my dictionary has just told me that “confrontationally” is not a word. I disagree. The “Wrong-Boss” refused to accept that I was always right, but had to concede that in that particular occasion, I was. And on all other previous occasions.
My previous post is an apology. Having spent lots of time promoting the articles that I wrote for Eve Magazine, I suddenly stopped. In fact, the last article that I posted was supposed to be published in Eve Magazine. It wasn’t.