God poll

[mycrabface]

I know you know which God we are talking about, so don't pretend, just give me a straight answer.

[wishful thinker]

Don't Vote!!!

Its a trap 

[mycrabface]

Don't Vote!!!

Its a trap 

Noo..... I just want to see how many people believe god exists, that's why there's only a yes and no answer. Straightforward.

[wishful thinker]

I know that you have good intentions, but this is just an open invite to the "usual suspects" to argue from here to eternity again 

[mycrabface]

I know that you have good intentions, but this is just an open invite to the "usual suspects" to argue from here to eternity again 

LOL, well the usual god-talkers are welcomed to say whatever they like, but i just want to see the poll being taken.. I think your first post might have scared the world off eh..

[pianistimo]

God will still be here whether we vote him in or out.  personally, i'd rather vote for Him than any other governmental official.  but, in the end, we're the ones on the hot seat.  thankfully, our new honda accord has gotten me used to those. 

[cmg]

God will still be here whether we vote him in or out. 

Lord, mycrabface, look what you've started again.  I'm gonna have your head in a pickle barrel.

[counterpoint]

I would have voted, if there was a "I don't know"

[nicco]

Does God exist?

Indeed he does. In the heads of certain people.

[jpianoflorida]

Indeed he does. In the heads of certain people.

yes he does...in the heads, and hearts and whole body.   

[mad_max2024]

God is a perfect and omnipotent being
So he probably has no need for petty and basic human processes such as thinking
Therefore god doesn't think
So he must not exist

[[]]

[debussy symbolism]

God will still be here whether we vote him in or out.  personally, i'd rather vote for Him than any other governmental official.  but, in the end, we're the ones on the hot seat.  thankfully, our new honda accord has gotten me used to those. 

Greetings.

Can you prove it? After all of the arguments I can't believe that you still post the same thing. One thing is to believe a concept, another is to keep on posting it.

[jpianoflorida]

Greetings.

Can you prove it? After all of the arguments I can't believe that you still post the same thing. One thing is to believe a concept, another is to keep on posting it.

 can you disprove it?    that's just as much an argument as proving it!

[ramseytheii]

Thoughts of my sister came to me again last night, sitting on the soft grains of rock hammered out by the waves.  She and I would watch and listen to the ocean, but mainly I would listen to her.  It seemed the crash of the waves would soften to a whisper so they would not interrupt her voice.  I loved these moments, my sister holding me in her arms as we watched the birds and waves entwine.  Time was magically suspended, there never seemed to be any night; it was always morning with a fog that iced the waves as they crashed.  I remember the wind blowing around my face; so strong, I thought I could hold it in my hands.  ‘Look,’ I would say to my sister.  ‘I caught the wind.’ So excited I ran to her trying hard not to let the wind slip from my cupped hands.

Falling, my legs tumbled with clumps of sand, my hands parted.  The wind is gone I lost the wind.  My sister picked me up and like a mother dove softly cooed tears away.  She would say, ‘the wind is not to be trapped.  It’s like a wild pony that never wants to grow up.’ Memories, the scent of the salt and water, sea gulls crying and slapping of olds sails on forgotten boats.  When I go back to those images I, like the fog, roll through those mornings.  Clouds of rain form in my eyes.  I feel her pressure, as I’m rocked back and forth lying against her chest.

I felt so warm, so secure, and so happy.  Now, the only thought that surrounds me is, if only she were different.

The rain hitting the window roused my slumber; I opened my eyes to see a gray muted sky.  At least it’s light out.  The dark loneliness of the night has always been a fear.  At night, the moon plays its light on the walls.  Shadows begin, as they are unleashed.  Light hits the corners of the apartment.  Webs of neglected cleaning show glinted silver.  How I loathed the spider in the corner.  The whiteness of her silver was a mirror upon my life.  Air currents begin to pull at the web, its beautiful craft trembled.  I knew although the rain was drowning the city this morning; I had to be out with the light, the need to be in communion with people, a need to see their faces.  I walk down streets hungry for someone to talk to me.  Only to find words lost in my mouth, never resurfacing to the air.  The worst of it is the look of question in their eyes.  A once warm approach turned to a blackness of hard walls as a shoulder is brushed away.

Outside, water spitting at my face, it seemed as though the wind was running from the cold and found security under my skirt.  Walking towards the bus stop, I could tell I was going to have to stand.  People were pressing flesh together just waiting on the bench.  An old woman I had seen days earlier turned a glance on me that pierced like ice.  Her look pierced me deeper than the wind itself.  My face felt heated, fog mirrored my eyes.  I looked down finding security towards the pavement.  Am I, so hideous to be looked upon?  What am I lacking and not given that everyone else has?  My reflection showed in a watery blot of motor oil.  My white skin outcast in the blackness of the pavement, you could see the bones of the skeleton waiting patiently underneath.

I moved slowly onto the bus to sit next to a window.  Splats of water hit the glass, we began to move but I did not.  Stops and movement jerked my head as people got on and off the bus.  A man quickly sat down next to me; his appealing face and eyes twinkled a smile at me.  His closeness felt warm and I soaked the emotion up like a sponge.  We sat together in silence but inside of me were millions of words crushed against my skull.  The bus stopped; lazily the appealing man outstretched his long legs and rose from the seat.  I watched him from the window; his body swallowed into the crowd.

Movement of the bus showed pictures of gray and blues surrounded by water; Winter.  Thoughts of my sister entered my mind.  The weight of my heart lightened as I closed my eyes to feel her presence.  ‘Do you like the winter,’ I asked her.  ‘Yes,’ she said.  ‘It’s my favorite.’ I remembered positioned in her lap and feeling the cool wool surrounding us.  Her lips close to my ear and I could feel her warm breath blowing next to my skin, as she spoke about her winter.  ‘I miss the winter nights,’ she said ‘the smell of pine and cold air that lingers and is never quite warm.  Winter to me is hibernation never moved.  It sits in a corner like a spider and weaves silently in the dark.  Softly it turns her string and covers the corner with soft silvers of white.  Many people fear winter as death but I feel it as a nice warm hug,’ and she tugged me tighter into her sweater.  ‘That protects and gives warmth that one might feel in a bed, just awakened by the cool sun approaching a window.’ Silence was between us as we looked at the ocean.  It seemed as though the ocean had stopped its roar again listening as I was, transfixed by my sister’s presence.  But again, the thought that roars in my mind now is, if only she were different.

The brakes of the bus shrieked to a halt.  My body fell toward a woman sitting next to me.  How long had she been sitting there, I did not know.  I glanced at the street sign and pulled the cord to get off.  On the street, left with only the diesel fumes of the bus, I walked to the train station.  Crowds of people in the street began to thin, as I made my way to the park.  Couples walked along the stone path and I heard ringing of children’s laughter.  My steps quickened to the sweet song of joy.  As I approached a sandbox, I stood looking over a little girl’s shoulder, watching her as she tried to play with the soft matted sand.  My foot scuffed the cement and her head lifted to my eyes.  She smiled sweetly; my heart rejoiced.  I bent down to be close to her, ‘Terrible day to be at the park isn’t it?’ I said.  She smiled remorsefully letting sand clump to the ground.  I turned toward the movement coming upon us; the child slowly got up and approached her mother.  The mother gave the girl a scolding look, which then turned towards me.  I watched the pair fade with the grass, tears stinging my eyes.

I slipped into the sand and I tried to brace my shoulders from heaving with pain.  Alone again, I looked up and cursed the sky.  ‘Why were we created as humans never to be able to talk with one another?’ My body screaming for a voice, please be out there, where is my sister?  She’ll make me feel better, she always did.  She’ll get rid of my hurt.  I had to get to the train station today; she was going to be there.  I hastily brushed my tears and bolted with joy towards the tracks.  I was going to see her; laughter rang through my ears.  It sounded so strange to hear this voice come through me.  All the memories of her developed in my mind, her face of white silk, her hair of black moonlight but most of all, her love for me.  She loved me, a love of purity, whatever wrong doing I had done, she would still and wholly love me.  I remember times when she was quiet and I would be apologizing to her for being too loud and restless.  ‘I’m sorry,’ I would say, and she would just smile.  A smile angels must have, so gentle, so lovely, she would hold me, kiss me, and tell me that everything would be all right.

I ran down the street to the train station, I could feel the eyes of strangers look at me as I passed them by.  I didn’t care anymore, my sister was coming; my beautiful, caring sister was waiting to meet me.  And all these people just blurs to the focus of my destination.  Approaching the entrance of the terminal, its dark metal contrasted heavily against my spirit, my skin flushed from the heat of the run.  The train had not arrived; I had some time to wait for her.  A young man approached me and smiled at the reflection of my joy.  I giggled with pleasure.  I sat down on a bench and looked in the direction the train would be coming. People moved quickly in and out, never staying in one place.  Thoughts of pleasure stirred through me, the flapping of the birds brought back the sounds of the sea gulls cry.  ‘The cry of freedom’, my sister used to say.  ‘They are the only kind of animal that man can never really touch, or know of the power of their wings.’ I remembered she and I pretending we were birds.  We would fly around each other kicking up sand from our feet.  I started to laugh out loud at this thought.  People crossing in front of me looked down in question.

I could hear the train coming, streams of white, puffed into the station.  Heads moved in front of me, I could not see the train, but felt its rumblings on the tracks.  I tried to push my way closer only to find myself blinded back to where I was before.  I tried to stand on the bench but still the crowd was too great.  My exhaustion led me down once more to sit on the bench and I impatiently waited for my sister.  I heard my name called from within the crowd ‘Jane,’ the soprano voice rang.  I tried to push towards the sound.  Arms and shoulders blocked my path.  My thin body jostled back and forth, I saw a clearing through clothing.  ‘Jane,’ I heard again.  ‘I’m coming;’ I yelled ‘I’m coming.’ I pulled through the last coat and shoulder, my eyes circling the area for the voice.  ‘Jane,’ yelled with finality as a woman ran towards a young girl enfolding themselves, rejoicing in each other’s touch.  I slipped back into the crowd and sat down on the bench, to wait once more.

My sister still had not come; thoughts rose again to my head.  The smell of seaweed and salt of the water, my sister’s laughter and her presence, wishing so much that she were different but, most importantly wishing that she were real.

[mikey6]

PLEASE! Why debate the issue - don't you people know never to talk about religion and politics!

[mycrabface]

So he probably has no need for petty and basic human processes such as thinking
Therefore god doesn't think
So he must not exist

[[]]

It does not mean that when you don't think you cease to exist.

[mycrabface]

Lord, mycrabface, look what you've started again.  I'm gonna have your head in a pickle barrel.

Oooh, I dare you to..

[mycrabface]

I would have voted, if there was a "I don't know"

Too bad. If you don't know I think its a no.

PLEASE! Why debate the issue - don't you people know never to talk about religion and politics!

There's no harm in clarifying and sharing

Greetings.

Can you prove it? After all of the arguments I can't believe that you still post the same thing. One thing is to believe a concept, another is to keep on posting it.

Faith. I'm stupid? I'm wasting my life, you would say? I don't really care. Faith.

[prometheus]

God is a perfect and omnipotent being
So he probably has no need for petty and basic human processes such as thinking
Therefore god doesn't think
So he must not exist

Haha, do you realise there is actually an argument that claims that because god is perfect she must exist? Because if a 'perfect' thing does not exist it is imperfect. So perfect things must exist or they aren't perfect. And god is perfect, so she exists.

[ramseytheii]

My father belonged to the widespread family of the Campbells, and possessed a small landed property in the north of Argyll. But although of long descent and high connection, he was no richer than many a farmer of a few hundred acres. For, with the exception of a narrow belt of arable land at its foot, a bare hill formed almost the whole of his possessions. The sheep ate over it, and no doubt found it good; I bounded and climbed all over it, and thought it a kingdom. From my very childhood, I had rejoiced in being alone. The sense of room about me had been one of my greatest delights. Hence, when my thoughts go back to those old years, it is not the house, nor the family room, nor that in which I slept, that first of all rises before my inward vision, but that desolate hill, the top of which was only a wide expanse of moorland, rugged with height and hollow, and dangerous with deep, dark pools, but in many portions purple with large-belled heather, and crowded with cranberry and blaeberry plants. Most of all, I loved it in the still autumn morning, outstretched in stillness, high uplifted towards the heaven. On every stalk hung the dew in tiny drops, which, while the rising sun was low, sparkled and burned with the hues of all the gems. Here and there a bird gave a cry; no other sound awoke the silence. I never see the statue of the Roman youth, praying with outstretched arms, and open, empty, level palms, as waiting to receive and hold the blessing of the gods, but that outstretched barren heath rises before me, as if it meant the same thing as the statue-or were, at least, the fit room in the middle space of which to set the praying and expectant youth.

There was one spot upon the hill, half-way between the valley and the moorland, which was my favourite haunt. This part of the hill was covered with great blocks of stone, of all shapes and sizes-here crowded together, like the slain where the battle had been fiercest; there parting asunder from spaces of delicate green-of softest grass. In the centre of one of these green spots, on a steep part of the hill, were three huge rocks-two projecting out of the hill, rather than standing up from it, and one, likewise projecting from the hill, but lying across the tops of the two, so as to form a little cave, the back of which was the side of the hill. This was my refuge, my home within a home, my study-and, in the hot noons, often my sleeping chamber, and my house of dreams. If the wind blew cold on the hillside, a hollow of lulling warmth was there, scooped as it were out of the body of the blast, which, sweeping around, whistled keen and thin through the cracks and crannies of the rocky chaos that lay all about; in which confusion of rocks the wind plunged, and flowed, and eddied, and withdrew, as the sea-waves on the cliffy shores or the unknown rugged bottoms. Here I would often lie, as the sun went down, and watch the silent growth of another sea, which the stormy ocean of the wind could not disturb-the sea of the darkness. First it would begin to gather in the bottom of hollow places. Deep valleys, and all little pits on the hill-sides, were well-springs where it gathered, and whence it seemed to overflow, till it had buried the earth beneath its mass, and, rising high into the heavens, swept over the faces of the stars, washed the blinding day from them, and let them shine, down through the waters of the dark, to the eyes of men below. I would lie till nothing but the stars and the dim outlines of hills against the sky was to be seen, and then rise and go home, as sure of my path as if I had been descending a dark staircase in my father's house.

On the opposite side the valley, another hill lay parallel to mine; and behind it, at some miles' distance, a great mountain. As often as, in my hermit's cave, I lifted my eyes from the volume I was reading, I saw this mountain before me. Very different was its character from that of the hill on which I was seated. It was a mighty thing, a chieftain of the race, seamed and scarred, featured with chasms and precipices and over-leaning rocks, themselves huge as hills; here blackened with shade, there overspread with glory; interlaced with the silvery lines of falling streams, which, hurrying from heaven to earth, cared not how they went, so it were downwards. Fearful stories were told of the gulfs, sullen waters, and dizzy heights upon that terror-haunted mountain. In storms the wind roared like thunder in its caverns and along the jagged sides of its cliffs, but at other times that uplifted land-uplifted, yet secret and full of dismay-lay silent as a cloud on the horizon.

I had a certain peculiarity of constitution, which I have some reason to believe I inherit. It seems to have its root in an unusual delicacy of hearing, which often conveys to me sounds inaudible to those about me. This I have had many opportunities of proving. It has likewise, however, brought me sounds which I could never trace back to their origin; though they may have arisen from some natural operation which I had not perseverance or mental acuteness sufficient to discover. From this, or, it may be, from some deeper cause with which this is connected, arose a certain kind of fearfulness associated with the sense of hearing, of which I have never heard a corresponding instance. Full as my mind was of the wild and sometimes fearful tales of a Highland nursery, fear never entered my mind by the eyes, nor, when I brooded over tales of terror, and fancied new and yet more frightful embodiments of horror, did I shudder at any imaginable spectacle, or tremble lest the fancy should become fact, and from behind the whin-bush or the elder-hedge should glide forth the tall swaying form of the Boneless. When alone in bed, I used to lie awake, and look out into the room, peopling it with the forms of all the persons who had died within the scope of my memory and acquaintance. These fancied forms were vividly present to my imagination. I pictured them pale, with dark circles around their hollow eyes, visible by a light which glimmered within them; not the light of life, but a pale, greenish phosphorescence, generated by the decay of the brain inside. Their garments were white and trailing, but torn and soiled, as by trying often in vain to get up out of the buried coffin. But so far from being terrified by these imaginings, I used to delight in them; and in the long winter evenings, when I did not happen to have any book that interested me sufficiently, I used even to look forward with expectation to the hour when, laying myself straight upon my back, as if my bed were my coffin, I could call up from underground all who had passed away, and see how they fared, yea, what progress they had made towards final dissolution of form-but all the time, with my fingers pushed hard into my ears, lest the faintest sound should invade the silent citadel of my soul. If inadvertently I removed one of my fingers, the agony of terror I instantly experienced is indescribable. I can compare it to nothing but the rushing in upon my brain of a whole churchyard of spectres. The very possibility of hearing a sound, in such a mood, and at such a time, was almost enough to paralyse me. So I could scare myself in broad daylight, on the open hillside, by imagining unintelligible sounds; and my imagination was both original and fertile in the invention of such. But my mind was too active to be often subjected to such influences. Indeed life would have been hardly endurable had these moods been of more than occasional occurrence. As I grew older, I almost outgrew them. Yet sometimes one awful dread would seize me-that, perhaps, the prophetic power manifest in the gift of second sight, which, according to the testimony of my old nurse, had belonged to several of my ancestors, had been in my case transformed in kind without losing its nature, transferring its abode from the sight to the hearing, whence resulted its keenness, and my fear and suffering.

[term]

i voted for yes but i'm not christian.

I think yes, if you interprete god as something that lies within you. Most people search outside and will never find anything. I really like that interpretation of the bible and the christian belief itself.

No, if you're looking for an old man sitting on a cloud or a extremely powerful something that's anywhere out there in the universe. Nonsense (in my opinion).

Haha, do you realise there is actually an argument that claims that because god is perfect she must exist? Because if a 'perfect' thing does not exist it is imperfect. So perfect things must exist or they aren't perfect. And god is perfect, so she exists.

Afaik the argument goes as follows: if god is omnipotent (not perfect), he must exist.
It's a pretty old one as far as i know, about 16th century or something? btw, i find it stupid^^ theoretical nonsense that may be true in itself but doesn't help understanding the whole thing better.
...

Kant (=> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Immanuel_Kant) said: I know (i feel) that god exists...but i must not think about him. (translated from german, not very accurate but you get the idea).
Thats one of the best quotes I ever heard about religion. Think about it!

[cmg]

My sister still had not come; thoughts rose again to my head.  The smell of seaweed and salt of the water, my sister’s laughter and her presence, wishing so much that she were different but, most importantly wishing that she were real.

Oh, my dear, dear deluded brother!

Do you still doubt that I am "real?"  Have you forgotten that day on the beach when both of us looked up to the chalk cliffs and saw that convent?  Our Lady of Perpetual Nattering?  Do you not remember how you accompanied me to the Mother Superior's cell where she enfolded me in her arms and said:  YOU -- DEAR PIANISTIMO -- ARE NOW ONE OF US!?  Do you not remember this moment?  Do you not remember how the dear Mother Superior said that I would be exempted from the Vows of Silence, since, well -- as she put it -- not ALL miracles were possible??

Do you not remember my new name in this order:  SISTER CONFABULATA LOQUACIOUS??

OH, DEAR, DEAR WALTER!

Of course, I had to leave after oh so many years wrapped there in the mists of mystical devotion of He Who May Not Be Named.  (Those numerous immaculate conceptions rather flummoxed the dear sisters, but they, ultimately had little faith in miracles, alas!)

So, following the Light, I discovered my destiny In the Land Known as Pennsylvania.  I speak to you as always through the celestial cyber-connection known as the Piano Forum.

Do you not recognize me??

It is I, dear Walter, it is I, your sister, PIANISTIMO!!  Recalled to life!!

[pianistimo]

i think what is perfect is Love.  God is Love.  therefore, God is perfect.  if we have the same kind of love that Christ had for us - then we are 'followers of Christ.'  if we don't have love for our brother - we are in 'darkness.' 

btw, i think ramseytheii's first story (i haven't read the second yet) was quite profound.  that is actually like a parable - because we are waiting to feel that KIND of love.  the one that accepts us with all our faults and positives.  the one that has outstretched arms and greets us joyfully.  the one that hopes for our best.  and longs to share everything. '....love does not brag and is not arrogant, does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek it's own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong sufferred, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.  love never fails....'

our personal experiences can be rather tragic at times - but that does not keep God from existing - and His love from being very real.  in fact, if you experience darkness in your walk on earth - you can take hope that Jesus felt the same things.  depression.  a sadness for not being able to take care of all the things that were hurting right now.  but, that is why He allowed us to have this time.  to prove that man's ways lead to this.  God's ways are perfect and will experience perfect love and joy in His kingdom which 'is not of this world.'  adam and eve chose the 'other' tree.  not the tree of 'life.'

[cmg]

So I could scare myself in broad daylight, on the open hillside, by imagining unintelligible sounds; and my imagination was both original and fertile in the invention of such. As I grew older, I almost outgrew them. Yet sometimes one awful dread would seize me-that, perhaps, the prophetic power manifest in the gift of second sight, which, according to the testimony of my old nurse, had belonged to several of my ancestors, had been in my case transformed in kind without losing its nature, transferring its abode from the sight to the hearing, whence resulted its keenness, and my fear and suffering.

Fear not, Dearest Brother and most beloved of Charges!  For you were NEVER alone in your hauntings of the copse of furzehedge and refulgent stands of whinge-bush that grew so prolifically beneath the window of your nursery!

For it is I!  PIANISTIMO! Yes, your sister and YOUR OLD NURSE!!  I know, I know, I disguised myself to protect us both from my identity.  Each evening I would steal away from the convent, stash my habit within the gnarled hole in the ancient Elderhuckle, and slip into my Nursing Frock.  Yes, it was I!!

And worry not about those keening sounds that still haunt you!  O, worry not!  Poor dear child, you forget that you often stuffed the unripened berries of the Spenser shrub into your ears as I was vocalizing beside your tiny bed!  Oh, yes.  Remember the tunes?  "Jesus Loves Me?"  "Just as I am?" "Shake your Booty?"  And, yes, your favorite, "Casta Diva!"  You loved that one the most, Dearest One.  Remember how I would strew mistletoe about the room and you'd excitedly chant just lines and lines of our beloved Virgil and Cicero?  "O tempora!  O mores!"  I can hear your childish voice intoning those noble lines!!  How you wanted to learn the role of Pollione!

But I said, nay, nay, Dear One.  Begin with Mozart.  Yes, save Bellini for tomorrow!!

Ah, those days of serving you as your old nurse!

And, yes, it was I -- PIANISTIMO!!  O tempora!  O mores!  O, Indeed!!!!   

[johnny-boy]

Of course there's a God. Where the h***  do you think you came from? Dah...

John

[jpianoflorida]

Of course there's a God. Where the h***  do you think you came from? Dah...

John

many people on this forum think they just "happened" to be here.    the world just "happened".    it's all just science.  Everything just magically came together.      It's their right, but for me I can't buy that anymore than they can buy what we Christians believe.   

[pianistimo]

if only they knew it was FREE.  that's the biggest thing.  it's not like they even have to buy it, literally.

[mad_max2024]

Of course there's a God. Where the h***  do you think you came from? Dah...

John

I came from inside a vagina, where did you come from?

[gorbee natcase]

If God has no willy why do I have one(it seems like an unfair test)

God never had to face death only wittness it (Why)

If christianity is your salvation Why do so many die because of it

It just seems like religion was invented by man for controll and power and influence.

[thalbergmad]

I came from inside a vagina, where did you come from?

I was flown in by a stork.

Thal

[johnny-boy]

Why do all these threads have to turn into atheist threads? Darn atheists are always trying to force their beliefs on us.  

John

[mad_max2024]

According to latest results, god exists by 3 votes...
(15 to 12)

[jpianoflorida]

Why do all these threads have to turn into atheist threads? Darn atheists are always trying to force their beliefs on us.  

John

I think most of them aren't really atheists! they just like to argue, when it comes down to the end of their life(if not before) or if they have a major illness,  they will probably change their minds.   

[debussy symbolism]

I have nothing against other's beliefs, nor do I wish to stifle them. I am however aware of a certain posting of the same content even after being argued against. Atheists do not believe in God, Theists believe in God. Will there be complete Atheism? No, just as there will never be complete denial of supermodels and pop singers. People need to believe, and there is nothing wrong with that. What is bothering however, is that some people just choose to further propage their ideas to the distress of others. This poll is very flawed and in no way significant. There is no way to answer the question, especially via voting. God may exist on many levels, that may or may not be restricted to the physical realm. Does God exist in the minds of certain individuals? Definately. Does he exist in the minds of Atheists? Who knows. A thread such as this will only foul up the debate, and as we know from previous experience, those certain people cannot be persuaded, hence the incessant posting. I think it would do the forum a favor to just stop posting material that might provoke such debates and thus sour the mood further. For this reason, and for the fact that such a topic isn't restircted to a mere pole, I think it is best to leave this subject for somewhere else.

[debussy symbolism]

I think most of them aren't really atheists! they just like to argue, when it comes down to the end of their life(if not before) or if they have a major illness,  they will probably change their minds.   

Very good thought! Indeed, it is contrary to science to stop exploring. Why are there mysteries such as Loch Ness creature, Big foot, extra-terrestials, Bermuda triangle, Stonehendge, Moth-man, etc? They are the essence of curiosity and of wonder. Would be a boring world without them. Always progressing and learning and realizing is what is important.

[mad_max2024]

I think most of them aren't really atheists! they just like to argue, when it comes down to the end of their life(if not before) or if they have a major illness,  they will probably change their minds.   

I'm an atheist and I hate arguing
Wether it is better to accept the truth (or what is more probable to be like it) and live with it or to live an illusion and embrace a deity that promises you comfort is a phylosophical question worthy of a discussion of it's own
Personally, I think all of us would believe mostly anything that would give us hope when faced with total despair no matter how silly or illogical that thing is
Belief in god brings you comfort and gives you hope in desperate situations, that I think everyone agrees from the most devout to the most skeptic
Man craves the illusion of control and religion is a way to provide people with some measure of control over uncontrollable things, it gives them hope...
It's still an illusion though... Like I said, if it is worth it or not is a very interesting question with possibly no answer at all

And there I go ranting... (sigh) I gotta ease on the phylosophy

[[]]

[jpianoflorida]

I'm an atheist and I hate arguing
Wether it is better to accept the truth (or what is more probable to be like it) and live with it or to live an illusion and embrace a deity that promises you comfort is a phylosophical question worthy of a discussion of it's own
Personally, I think all of us would believe mostly anything that would give us hope when faced with total despair no matter how silly or illogical that thing is
Belief in god brings you comfort and gives you hope in desperate situations, that I think everyone agrees from the most devout to the most skeptic
Man craves the illusion of control and religion is a way to provide people with some measure of control over uncontrollable things, it gives them hope...
It's still an illusion though... Like I said, if it is worth it or not is a very interesting question with possibly no answer at all

And there I go ranting... (sigh) I gotta ease on the phylosophy

[[]]

it's an illusion to you! not to me.   to me it's fact.   

[mad_max2024]

it's an illusion to you! not to me.   to me it's fact.   

Facts shouldn't belong to anyone...

[cmg]

Most so-called atheists here are not arguing against religion, per se, but at the futile attempt to scientifically prove that God exists.  There is no need to try proving scientifically what can't be proven scientifically.

Science, as we all know, is not God, only our attempt to explain the world around us.  God eludes such proof.  Does He/She, then NOT exist?  No.  That's where faith comes in.  Does God, therefore, definitely exist?  There's no proof of that either.  There's only faith.

But you can't run civilizations on faith.  People understandably want scientific assurances, such as aerodynamics -- for one example -- that airplanes can actually fly.  Would you board one, and risk your life, solely on faith?  I doubt it.  You might board one when you see that millions have flown successfully and not been killed, but would you board one otherwise?  No.

Using this argument, then, where is the evidence of redemption and life eternal?  Have any of you gotten a fax from the "other side" proving it?  Where is the evidence that faith has averted wars, intolerance and violence?  There is next to none.  So, give atheists at least a little tolerance, if not respect.  They ask for proof which you and no one can offer.  Atheists, however, can offer proof of the horrors that faith has wrought beginning, at least, with the Crusades and its violence against the "Infidel" which continues until this very day.

  

  

[ahinton]

it was I -- PIANISTIMO!!  O tempora!  O mores!  O, Indeed!!!!   

Oh, NO! I feel another multiplicity of Pianistimi coming on...

Best,

Alistair

[ahinton]

I was flown in by a stork.

Thal

In first class, I bet...

Best,

Alistair

[preludium]

The question should be "Do you believe in God?". Asking for existence is a completely different thing. The computer on which I'm writing this post exists, because it is an object that I can interact with. The thoughts I'm trying to express don't exist in the same way the computer does. They don't have the same kind of reality - they are no objects, at least not in the same sense. I have problems to attribute any existence to thoughts, emotions, or mindsets. Does the ideal gas exist? It doesn't, i.e. it cannot be observed in nature. The ideal gas is a theoretical concept, a thought, and if I deny existence to the ideal gas I should consequently  do so with all thoughts. The term "existence" is even less suitable for something that transcends comprehension and reason. A god that doesn't do this is no god, but a projection. I could not believe in a god that exists.

[pianowelsh]

I was alwasy taught the rule ' never discuss religion and politics' was only for discussion in polite company. Its ok to do here as the company is FAR from polite - its more everyman for himself! - no holds barred.

[wishful thinker]

But you can't run civilizations on faith.  People understandably want scientific assurances, such as aerodynamics -- for one example -- that airplanes can actually fly.  Would you board one, and risk your life, solely on faith?  I doubt it.  You might board one when you see that millions have flown successfully and not been killed, but would you board one otherwise?  No.
 

Of course in the early days of aviation, there was no millions that had sucessfully flown nor a widespread understanding of aerodynamics.  So I guess that the first air travellers must have boarded the flight in a spirit more of faith than science.  Or maybe they just had faith in science.  Either way, it wasn't through experience, but being prepared to trust that it seemed more likely that the thing would fly, than certainty that it would.

[prometheus]

I was alwasy taught the rule ' never discuss religion and politics' was only for discussion in polite company.

What a stupid rule. Not discussing politics, thats anti-democratic and dangerous. That's something people like Stalin and Kim Jong Ill like.

Same with religion. Religion somehow demands respect. That's retarded as well. It's like saying everyone should respect the idea that Beethoven is the greatest composer ever; no one should dare to question if that is actually true or not. No, that's impolite.

[pianowelsh]

Unfortunately you totally miss the point prometheus. The idea of such a rule, which was a widely held one in the upper echalons of British society for generations, was to AVOID conflict which was seen as an extreme faux pas in polite civilised company. Which is why the discussion if all else failed, was to center on the state of the roads or the weather. You will also note that I am not an advocate or dedicatee of this school of thought which seems to have belonged to a much gentiler age.  Your post does however beautifully serve to amplify my formetioned reference to this site resembling a bear pit moreso than the halloed air of a respected debating chamber.  Thankyou for your contribution

[prometheus]

You do not avoid conflict by not having a discussion, let alone a debate. On the contrary.

[mad_max2024]

Of course in the early days of aviation, there was no millions that had sucessfully flown nor a widespread understanding of aerodynamics.  So I guess that the first air travellers must have boarded the flight in a spirit more of faith than science.  Or maybe they just had faith in science.  Either way, it wasn't through experience, but being prepared to trust that it seemed more likely that the thing would fly, than certainty that it would.

That IS science... we are never certain of anything
Even after we tried it
It is all a matter of probabilities

[pianistimo]

where's the light switch. 

you all obviously never read about the parting of the red sea.  that was a science experiment that would have confounded a few people here (not to mention the egyptians - who were pretty proud of their pyramid making capabilities).

[prometheus]

I have read things much more amazing. But that doesn't mean it was non-fiction.