After the quote, Laura comments:

The words in bold appear on the Jefferson memorial and are used by many Christians in an attempt to deny his adamant opposition to organized religion and in particular to Christianity.

My initial reaction was one of horror. "You don't want to say anything that strong. You'll only offend people." It was rather a conditioned response. We live in a curious age. Our society, for all of its hedonistic excesses, has enormous fear of IDEAS. It is though we are all composed of straw, and any idea which even in the slight may oppose someone else's pet theory (loosely so termed) may blow them away, and the world will be a flurry of straw in flight.

One thing Laura's research into the published words of various atheists and skeptics has shown is just how boldly people in political positions once expressed their opinions. They were not the two-faced, two-mouthed spineless examples of human mediocrity we are blessed with today. The thin veneer of civility is false and hides something much worse. It accords to IDEAS even more power than they already have, and accordingly takes away from human beings their own power. For so long as human beings are free to ponder a idea, to turn it around in their minds and really examine it, the idea is the servant of the human, rather than the human being held helpless captive by an idea.

But so many people don't think we can be that powerful. Several events in the news and the comments they generated prove that. Starnet's story of a prisoner in Arizona clearly shows the reporter's bias:

PHOENIX AP) - After five years of waiting, a self-proclaimed satanist and state prison inmate got his day in federal court yesterday to accuse prison officials he's being unfairly persecuted for his religious beliefs.

Jason Paul Doty, arriving in prison blues and leg shackles, took the stand in U.S. District Court to proclaim he has a constitutional right to worship Satan behind bars and to employ the necessary religious items so he can elicit the powers of underworld demons and gods.

The items in dispute include black and white candles, incense, a tapestry rug depicting a goat's head and spell-casting books like the satanic bible and Necronomicon - books that glory selfishness, brutality and human sacrifice.

``Plaintiff cannot engage in his religious exercise without these items,'' said Doty, acting as his own attorney.

A state prison warden, called to the stand by an attorney for the Arizona Department of Corrections, said the paraphernalia would pose a serious security risk for prison staff and other inmates.

Darla Elliott, warden of a state prison in Winslow, said candles can be used to start fires, incense can mask illegal drug use or confuse narcotic-sniffing dogs and tapestries or rugs can be used to hide things.

And the two devil-worshiping books teach a Darwinian, inhuman philosophy that clearly would undermine the state's rehabilitation efforts, Elliott said, after reading excerpts from the books.

Given these concerns, Elliott said it would be foolish to allow some like Doty to have access to the books and religious items. The books and the rituals would make him meaner and the spell-casting would enable him to manipulate other inmates.

Doty, 25, is serving an eight-year sentence for burglary and theft in Pima and Cochise counties that began in 1991. He sued the department over the religious freedom issue a year later.

Doty is in lockdown 23 hours a day at the state's highest security prison in Florence. In court, prison officials said Doty has been cited 31 times since 1992 for possessing makeshift weapons, fighting and disregarding authority.

Burn him at the stake

By Sue Dye

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Satanism is a modern revival of the tortures of the 15th through 18th centuries when people, mostly women, were accused of witchcraft. A lot of men really got it off by seeing women tortured, same way they do in the pornography films today. Satanism imitates what the religious pundits SAID people did, in order to have an excuse for torturing them. Millions of people were killed in Germany and Switzerland, a bunch more in England, although I'm told England forbade torture, and a few in Salem, Mass., here in the states. People practicing satanism are using it as an excuse to torture animals and people. It should be outlawed. If the law can throw people in jail for using peyote in a religious ceremony, it can certainly throw them in jail for using religious symbols that represent the torture of other people.

Satan worshipper shouldn't be allowed his "tools"...

By Joan Lansberry

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I wouldn't go as far as Sue and outlaw Satanism. But certainly prisoners shouldn't be allowed it. They've proven by their actions that their worship of power and selfishness have made them unfit for society. Whether or not Satanism is used as encouragement for acts of brutality remains to be seen. But I have seen their websites, and they do glorify power-seeking and selfishness. Judge them by their deeds.

Peter Vokac, one of the CFP's resident skeptics, had this to say to me:

Millionaire preachers do a LOT of damage. Doty is nothing,

By Peter Vokac

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relatively speaking. A little burglary and theft doesn't compare to ripping off hundreds of old ladies' retirement benefits. Joan I think you went off half cocked on that one, and I think you agree with me on this.

Uncle Bill figures in one of my very earliest memories. I am three years old. It is night, and I am in a large truck with a man I do not know. I didn't fully understand what was going on. But the awe of the situation impressed itself very clearly on my young mind. I knew this night was significant and important. I studied the man with his hands at the wheel. "Who are you?", I blurted, for my curiosity would hold no longer. "Why you should know ME, I'm your Uncle Bill!", he replied in a baritone voice. Oddly I felt guilt feelings. " I should know him, yet I do not." This mystery bore itself into me, and it is perhaps the intensity of it that wedged itself into memory.

Uncle Bill is now a thin man with a distinguished looking gray beard, very much the gentlemen, but with a quiet fire. That he could be impassioned was evidenced one day when I was quite young, perhaps seven or eight. I was over their house one day, perhaps for a piano lesson. My cousin Renée taught me the piano. Only this day, other things were going on. Uncle Bill and Renée were having an argument. I don't recall the specifics of it. Renée had made some choice he didn't like. But, oh, the screaming, wailing and gnashing of teeth! I had never seen anything like it. My parents had not yet begun to argue. Their arguments would be mostly ideological in nature. No, the only thing in early family life that would ever approach this in dramatic tension was The Day My Mother Threw The Bible On The Floor.

Approach it, but never reach it, for I was well bewildered. Sister Sharmon gently suggested I go home, a short three block walk, explaining "These things even happen in Christian families."

That day was really quite the exception, though. Most often the house had a peaceful air to it. It was White House décor elegant, with every thing in its place, carefully chosen for total effect.

Aunt June, too, seems like the perfect "First Lady", with impeccably tailored suits, worn even for a simple trip to the shopping mall.

I'll always remember the Christmas feasts at their house. The tall tree densely packed with decorations reached to the ceiling. The whole house was decorated with lights, glittering angels, silver bells, tiny reindeer; everywhere you looked had the special touch. And the food was gourmet. Christmas Eve featured a buffet with all sorts of delicacies. My favorite was a crab and cheese soup in tiny bowls of toast. The memory of dozens of varieties of fancy rich cookies all made by Aunt June still makes my mouth water. She'd make huge quantities and freeze the remainder. They would be parceled out at each dinner, two to a person. This treat lasted until March. Christmas Eve everyone opened their presents. They would be passed out one at a time, and each person would open theirs with all as audience, oohing and ahing. It would get quite late at night, especially the more children there were as my cousins' families grew. Christmas day was not neglected either. The tradition was a dinner feast with standing pork crown.

We did share some special times. I remember when Aunt June told me about her first memory, an image of her mother washing her long red hair. She told me how Gramma told her how babies were made. She pointed to some rabbits that were in the yard, and tersely said "like rabbits do".

Aunt June helped to awaken my young imagination. She and Sharmon explained a way to relax by imagining things. Sharmon said she would visualize a boy she liked. I did experiment and found I could indeed, imagine all sorts of things. It set me on an imaginative path that often soothes my mind.

They tried to educate me in feminine matters. I remember being told, when I donned my first bra, about the proper care of such garments. "Never wear it more than twice before washing, otherwise it will get gray." A book called "Fascinating Womanhood" which they gave me to read rather perplexed me. It told all about the special ways a lady should behave. I never followed the advice of the book. I always sat in any manner I chose, to Gramma's and Aunt June's displeasure. It was only a hint of my later "rebellion".

While I am certain my life choices have horrified them, I know they love me as best they can. I'll always remember when I fell sick at college, how much they helped me. Aunt June advised against running to doctors, believing the natural way best. She gave me a beading kit for making Christmas ornaments. It was good therapy for nervous hands and mind. When I got so discouraged at the restaurant job I had taken in my father's small town, Aunt June encouraged me to stay with it. Wisely so, for she knew that the mastering of the job skills would do much to improve my self-esteem and banish the depression that haunted me.

We went to many "Concerts on the Hill", a local talent show that went on every Thursday at the Bicentennial Park. The outdoors concerts were fun. I looked forward to every Wednesday during summer vacation. When I lived with Gramma, I went with them on the Wednesday outing to various malls in the Chicago suburbs. We'd have a good meal, and then each would go their own way to explore, agreeing to meet at a specific place. We even went into Chicago a few times. I remember seeing "Annie". When we were thirteen, Aunt June and Gramma took my friend Debbie and I to the big Marshall Field's, where we dined in the Waldorf Room and had Frango Mint pie.

Now Aunt June is 75 years old. She's been taking care of Gramma for two years now. It isn't easy taking care of a Mother who gets easily confused. If her garments aren't laid out in the order they should be put on, Gramma will end up with her bra over her blouse. But she does it well, making sure Gramma retains all the dignity she can.

Aunt June's days are also filled with many visits from grandchildren. She and Uncle Bill help them with all their projects. I wonder what I will be like when I am seventy-five. I hope to have as full a life.