The Mind of the Irreligious
I have to stuff envelopes for my boss’s Christmas cards today, so why don’t you all read this, which is a piece I wrote for a friend of mine about what it means for me to be an atheist.
My parents made a decision, before I was born, that they would not push me towards one religion or another, but rather let me read about as many different religions as I liked. When I was fourteen, I could pick one. The problem with looking at all religions without having any kind of background in this one or that one is that, equidistant from all points, they kind of all look the same.