A very popular post death sport of believers is to foist their beliefs upon atheists – those sexy little blank slates. In life atheists “have a faith in science! ZOMG They worship science!” but in death there are secret prayers to assign, desperate conversions to gloat over (Pandagon):
humans have invented thousands and for all we know, millions of deities. Since you have so many to pick from, and you, being a naughty atheists, aren’t beholden to the one you inherited at birth, the field is wide open. Personally, for my secret moments of desperate prayer that I supposedly have, I’m definitely not going to go with the Christian god, who is mainly characterized in the Bible as a patriarchal dick. Seriously, fuck that guy.
This reminds me of debates I used to have with Campus Navigators and such at UMass, where I’d ask “if you start from scratch, how could you know which holy book to believe in? Each claims to be the truth, none present evidence”. Without having been raised in a faith, there isn’t a compelling reason to join one outside of marriage, convenience, or intense social pressure.
For the believer, the assumption is always “oh an atheist will of course secretly believe in MY god.” There are better alternatives out there. Amanda Marcotte has chosen Tefnut – goddess of moisture, born of a holy wank, giver of sticky liquids in our times of need. A wise choice, and she asks, who would you choose? I’d like to invite fellow non-traditional-theists (like yours truly) into the fun, since doubtless true believers will speculate over our beliefs when we die – whether it is evangelical family members or celebrity religious nuts if we are lucky enough to grow famous.
I choose Zaltrog the Unbeliever – pictured above (src). Zaltrog is frankly shocked at epistemic certainty of any kind, and demands contextualist cuddles.