The Atheist Hell House

Fears of war and pestilence.

Fear of loss and failure.

Fear the hate of your enemy.

Fear your god and savior.

Savior? Failure.

What do you fear?

Fear is your god.



Deep and insidious, beneath your consciousness, and just beyond your peripheral vision the horror of sin lies.  The most base human fears, materialized with an agenda, and aimed at the young and vulnerable.  Instincts derived from over a hundred thousand years of life in hominid form and millions of years before to the origin of species, have been carved by nature to protect the self and the genes from destruction.  When weaponized, as proven time and time again, fear truly is: “the mindkiller”.


The agenda I spoke of a moment ago can be seen in any form of human coercion and control, dating back to the first instances of human social structures.  Beyond the alpha or group leader, the first to employ this fear systematically was religion in a theocratic symbiosis of power.  The wrath of the gods were physically incurred; animalistic at first, then taking human forms, and finally dispersing beyond the heavens as the mind of man outgrew its primitive ignorance.  But, one important thing remained, the instinctive fight or flight, the reptilian brain dominance.


Cue modern day indoctrination and conversion; the fear campaign waged by those that would control.  Hell houses across the country grow from the blood sweat and lies of yesteryear; they assault the mind and senses accordingly, with scenes of fake abortions (complete with ground meat and fake blood tossed to the floor), suicides (conveniently in school classrooms for the children of course), and infuriatingly the exaggerated and mutilation rich homosexual death by AIDS.


This is disgusting propaganda of the lowest order, a base appeal to the animal inside us all, and a devolution of the human character to the point of dismay.  Is this fear truly unbeatable, can we do nothing but appeal to the educated skeptic in the face of bloody female anatomy?  I am here to propose a solution or at least see if we can use fear as a tool to the betterment of humanity.


This year I propose we fight fire with fire on April 13th (in honor of a grand inquisitor, Christopher Hitchens).



Walking into the first of seven rooms, each a specific color and theme keeping with the Christian inspiration. An Edgar Allen Poe like “Masque of the Red Earth” facility, in which you would first be treated to a green room.  This first space, filled with humid air and mosquito sounds would feature malaria stricken Americans littering the floor, a global warming not-so-slippery slope as hotter climes perpetuate the flying bloody menace. These wings bringing with them Malaria, Chikungunya, Dengue, Yellow Fever, Eastern Equine Encephalitis, St. Louis Encephalitis, LaCrosse Encephalitis, Western Equine Encephalitis, and West Nile Virus


The people, looking just like you, would be strewn on the floor displaying many symptoms ranging from intense sweat, nausea, violent diuretic and diarrheal episodes, skin rashes, irritation, open festering sores, as well as but not limited to intense and agonizing joint and muscle pain.



Stepping over the wheezing bodies into the second area, a yellow room, reeking of gauze and rotting flesh.  Once again the sensory assault would be overwhelming, but this time not from the heat or sounds but from the olfactory receptors in your nose combining with the scent of second and third world medicine.  Measles, Mumps, Polio, Tuberculosis, and many more plagues of the old world would be clearly represented in all their horrific glory.  Open sores and crooked bodies writhing on dirty hospital beds with more people on the floor showing the lack of treatments and the inadequacy of the number of cots available to those who are in need.


Quickly shuffling from that slippery horror into the grey room, your eyes would instantly be inundated by fine powder, the ashes carried in the windy room howling to the fallout of war.  The irradiation of earth and searing of all life would be shown as a moonscape silhouetted by the shadows of still standing holy structures, moments from their final tumble to the sad, silent, godless earth.  The floor vibrating and low frequency speakers would attack your mind, representing radiation that would guarantee the death of all exposed and even beneath the surface.  The apocalypse garnered and praised by the pious would not be succeeded by an era of sublime happiness but one of quiet tumbling, yet another lifeless stone in orbit around a medium sized yellow sun  in an uninteresting part of the vast cosmic darkness.



Wiping your eyes and shaking off the dust, your skin would jump in the wave of heat of the next room, red as the fire of Hades but not quite as hot.  The oven like chamber, floor littered with black steaming volcanic stones under-lit by an allusion to molten rock, would convey a possible mega extinction event: a ring of fire chain reaction.  The long known history of plate tectonics show events of such scale as to demand the predictive nature of scientific understanding.  A foretelling hope to anticipate and even prevent the obliteration of complex life as you know it.  The charred skeletal remains of animal and human alike scattered like logs in a forest fire, mouths open, beg for your pity as you turn from their black carbon shadows thinking of a young earth perfectly designed for humanity.


In the next doorway, blue as the daytime sky, your breathing quickens as your sweat freezes, steam rising from your 97.8*F or 37*C flesh.  Your feet slip and you grab onto the only thing within reach, an internal combustion engine driven car, driver still inside, blue and open eyed.  The corners of the room showing the first movement you have seen in a while as you see fur covered humans surrounded by wolves, snarling and barking, steam bursting from their breath as their first warm meal in weeks is seemingly in view.  Frostbit blackened fingers and toes jut from the layers of life giving cloaks as the humans raise guns with no ammunition to fend off the predators.  Great coal plants linger in the distance as one of the elderly is dragged away from the huddle and into the pack.  Turning your gaze in horror is followed by sickening wet chewing sounds as “Life finds a way



Shivering and holding your arms close to your core the next room, white, sterile, emotionless, and empty, you are greeted by the eyes of they who would rule.  The poster with two eyes and the word “SUBMISSION” is the only thing seen on the 6 walls of this whitewashed room.  There are three people chained to the wall, emaciation, bruises, and filth cake their wiry frames as masked overseers hold whips in one hand and a holy book in the other. Totalitarian freedom has finally deduced the only two classes of people possible, the few with divine right and those that serve.  The rations divided equally 90-10 as per the commands of the one truth.  Teeth crack and tears stream as the gradient of white, to brown, to dark brown pigmented humans equally lament their outgroup status and the sins of their forebears, the ones they have been told set their future of slavery long ago.


Stumbling to the last room, shaking your head at the desolate future of a mindless, unscientific, and egocentric human race, you look up to see a clear room.  The walls see through and plastic it would seem, a timer in the corner above the exit sign. Coughing noises and bubbling sputum would assault your ears as you glance further and see the new and more powerful strains of superbugs working in tandem with seasoned society killers such as Ebola and the Bubonic Plague.  You would see the reversal of human health and the full effects of overpopulation amplified by an anti-science anti-vax world psychology.  A Landscape littered with prayer rugs and candles never answered as pus laden blood seeps through to the lowest point in the floor.



The timer counting down with a small sign next to it.  You slowly wander to the final door and read the sign: “Countdown to worldwide saturation, the disease and overpopulation tipping point to which humanity could no longer sustain itself.” As you walk out the door, the timer would simply “Ding”.

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