Blasphemy

Irish atheists are set to challenge the new blasphemy law in court, if necessary. It's going to be interesting.

If I were to tell you that I sincerely believe that my invisible, all-seeing, everywhere-at-once friend (the one who takes a benign interest in everything I do) is real, would you believe me? Maybe you would, but maybe you wouldn’t believe he or she is real, only that I believe he or she is real. You might humour me, for the sake of a friendship or a quiet life, as long as this imaginary friend didn’t start interfering in your life. When I say “interfering”, of course an imaginary friend can’t do anything, but I might try to interfere in your life because (as I might tell you, for your own good) I care about you, and my imaginary friend would like to be your friend too, if you could believe in him, her or it.

You might think I was bonkers if this imaginary friend started dictating my behaviour. Lonely children have imaginary friends, but they usually grow out of them. If adults have invisible friends like Chief Sitting Bull, the spirit guide who attends séances, you might think that there’s some trickery involved – there’s usually a fee for séances. If adults hear voices, it’s usually because they’re mentally ill, and with the right medication, the voices are hushed. Most people who have an imaginary friend never actually hear or see him, her or it. Other people, the enlightened ones with the fancy dress, will tell them about this invisible deity:

Immortal, invisible, God only wise
In light inaccessible hid from our eyes,
Most blessèd, most glorious, the Ancient of Days,
Almighty, victorious, thy great Name we praise.

“God only wise”? Sounds like Walter Smith had trouble getting his hymn to rhyme.

Today is Blasphemy Day, a day to promote free speech and to stand up in a show of solidarity for the freedom to challenge, criticise, and satirise religion without fear of murder, litigation, or reprisal. Find out more on the New Humanist Blog, then blaspheme away!