An Atheist Participates in Evolution: Broken Ears and Fears

The fourth of July has come and gone once again with a bit more of a bang in Michigan than usual; the legalization of airborne fireworks reducing neighborhoods to the quiet relaxing sounds of Afghanistan and Syria, not to mention rampant pet terror at what could only be “The End of Days”. All this culminating as I sat watching the Kentwood Michigan fireworks display with an uneasy feeling as to the development of my baby girl in utero and my own evolutionary failings.

 

For those of you who haven’t gathered from the above pseudonym I am fond of, Deafilosophy, I am an 85-90 percent deaf atheist with no memory of ever having full spectrum hearing.

 

The reason my handicap is important for a post about the evolution of a tiny life has to do with genetics, mutation, protein mis-folding, and bullying.  I know that last one is a bit of a stretch but, patience grasshopper, all will be tied in a neat little bow before long.

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Sex Ed Fail

It was in 4th grade: the day the girls were separated from the boys, and we watched a video about the changes our bodies were about to go through. Not much of it was news to me. I’d started my period months prior and already wore a bra. I didn’t really know why I had my period, though; the video didn’t explain that either. Just a very basic rundown of what to do when it was happening and that it meant we’d all become women.

 

The video went on to explain that now that we were becoming women, it was important to protect our purity for our future husbands. To save ourselves for our wedding nights. That failing to do so would devalue our love.

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Childhood’s End

Where are the soldiers of god for the children in need today. We hear the campaign slogans, protest chants, and Chick tract reiterations for the sanctity of life, the equality of the fetus, and the validity of all life from the moment of conception to birth… But it gets painfully quiet thereafter. The children of the state wander from desolation to squalor within the great absence of morality, permeating the impoverished family unit; mother, father and 1.5 children…

 

Events within the scope of my life and from many first person readings, now rampant within the blogosphere, I have accumulated a sense of disdain and utter chagrin towards the complexity of the broken home, with its satirical legal profitability. Having been spared the pressure of social insecurity by a family, real and complex in it’s own way, that never reached any sort of critical mass to fracture beyond repair; I have thus to relate from behind a fourth wall.
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