I went to my first humanist funeral yesterday. It was pleasant enough, just a bit naff. But at least god wasn't splashed about all over the place like it was ok for my mate to die because, well, godidit.
In god's place as the panacea for death we had love, family, friendship and memories etc.
As a service of remembrance it worked ok, but personally the last thing I want is all that miserable malarky pretending that the deceased was perfect.
I'm straight off to the crem - on my own - and then delivered in a bottle to the local pub where I'll be buying everyone drinks. My kids are going to put me in a firework and blow me up over the sea at midnight whilst playing Pink Floyd.
All this angst Phat. All this searching for "truth" in other people's daft writings and beliefs. It's not doing you any good. It seems to me that you're driving yourself mad with this hopeless quest of yours.
Je suis Charlie. Je suis Ahmed. Je suis Juif. Je suis Parisien. I am Mancunian. I am Brum. I am London.I am Finland. Soy Barcelona
"Life, don't talk to me about life" - Marvin the Paranoid Android
"Science adjusts it's views based on what's observed.
Faith is the denial of observation so that Belief can be preserved."
- Tim Minchin, in his beat poem, Storm.