Episode 43 – Partial Transcript
Oh, were you stopping by for the Stitcher Award Nomination Link? CLICK HERE… (and thanks)
by Heath Enwright and Lucinda&Noah Lugeons
(Note: Transcript contains elements that were edited from the episode due to time constraints)
Warning: This podcast contains adult language including two shits, a fuck, a piss, another fuck, dick, jizz, another fuck, motherfucker, bitch, two more shits, cunt, cock, fucktard, fuck-nozzle, several assholes, more fucks…
Today’s episode of the Scathing Atheist is brought to you by the new chain of pre-apocalyptic rapture supply outlets; Genesis 7-11. Because now that they’re letting the queers get married, you know god’s judgment can’t be far off. Mention this ad and get a free set of swimmies with any purchase over twenty dollars.
Genesis 7-11: Thank you Jesus, come again.
And now, the Scathing Atheist…
It’s December 12th
And my ass is less of a J-Lo, and more of a Cee Lo
I’m Noah Lugeons,
I’m Heath Enwright,
And from coniferous New York, New York, this is the Scathing Atheist
In this week’s episode,
We’ll learn that it’s hard to roll R’s with a dick in your mouth.
We’ll find out that everyone has an equal right to discriminate against gays.
And the perfect, plump roundness of Rush Limbaugh’s face is related to pi.
But first, the diatribe…
If Tennessee is the buckle of the bible belt, South Georgia is the taint. Which works out well because clearly the Florida panhandle is the scrotum. So unless you consider the Mississippi delta to be the asshole, in which case coastal Alabama is the taint, South Georgia is the de facto Bible taint.
And boy what a taint it is. I should know. I spent a big chunk of my childhood there. I spent six formative years of my life living in a place where the two accepted religious affiliations were Baptist and Devil-Worshipper. Where you had to drive to a theater two towns away to see blasphemous films like, I shit you not, Wayne’s World. Where church groups organized dozens of people to protest a comic book shop because they were promoting, I continue to shit you not, Dungeons and Dragons.
My first job was washing dishes at a local pizzeria where I was dismissed as “the guy who thinks we came from monkeys”. The principle at my high school led the students in prayer during the morning announcements and before each football game. My 10th grade English teacher once spent an entire hour telling us about the dangers of Satanism and my 9th grade science teacher once told the class that gays were an abomination against god and should be dragged into the street and shot.
Religion was everywhere. It was in the school, it was at the mall, it was protesting in front of the movie theater, it was showing up uninvited at my house, it was scolding me from every church sign, it was staring at me from the bumper of every pickup, it was blessing me from every cash register, it was blockading my girlfriend’s vagina. It was inescapable, in charge and insane.
And the stories they believed weren’t just crazy, they were fucking silly. I couldn’t comprehend how anyone took them seriously. I remember walking past church services and wondering if it was all an elaborate hoax that everyone was in on but me. It felt like I was the only sane person on the planet.
I wanted to grab people as they came out of church and say, “can’t we at least agree that this is exactly what religion would look like if it was just made up out of whole cloth to oppress people? Can’t we at least agree that if a ten year old was lying about his invisible pet alien he would use the exact same debate tactics that you guys use? Can’t we at least agree that taking this book about dragons and talking donkeys and resurrected Jews seriously without asking for a shred of tangible evidence is functionally indistinguishable from clinical nincompoopery?”
I couldn’t understand it. Many of these people were reasonable and far more intelligent than me when we weren’t talking about resurrected Jewish messiahs, but as soon as that subject came up an otherwise rational human being would start spouting proofs that they’d never accept in any non-religious circumstance. All of a sudden basic moral precepts like “burning people for eternity is wrong” and “babies aren’t evil sinners” fly out the fucking window.
And for years I just wrote those folks off as stupid. And it’s damned tempting. It’s damn tempting to laugh off the Chicken Little campaigns against Harry Potter books and World of Warcraft and say that they’re the products of misguided, uniformed, paranoid minds. But if you leave it there, you’re underestimating them and you’re underestimating the consequences of growing up in a town that was willing to rise up as one to keep the scourge of Wayne’s World from the local youth.
Religion can only survive on ignorance. Information is the achilles heel of faith and unless they control everything a person watches or plays or reads or learns, nobody’s ever gonna buy into their bullshit. They won’t be able to shut the critical parts of their brain down in those critical moments. They have to fight against everything because it takes a lot of work to make people continue to believe in demonic snakes and octa-centurion ark builders.
But there was no internet back then. There was no way to fact-check them when they controlled the bookstores and the library and the schools. A kid could feel like he or she was the only person in the world with a fully functional brain. There was no internet and there were no forums or wikis or podcasts or blogs.
And maybe when you strip away all the post-hoc justifications, that’s the real reason I do this show. Just to know that when religion dies, I’ll have been a small contributor to the murder weapon.
Joining me for headlines tonight is fellow brain in a jar Heath Enwright. Heath, are you ready to dismiss hard solipsism due to it’s lack of functional consequence?
Well there you go then.
In our lead story tonight, Al Azhar – a prestigious Islamic university in Cairo – released a study last month examining the fatwas issued by Islamic theocrats in Egypt during the one-year reign of Mohamed Morsi that ended in July of this year. And if you’re anything like me, and you worry about your 10-year-old wife’s tiny vagina being torn to shreds by something other than your adult male penis, the rules all make perfect sense.
So we’re just shredding 10 year old vaginas right up front, huh? Just gonna show up for the blind date with dick in hand. No, that’s fine…
For example, common sense stuff like: “Avoid creating a comfortable rape environment by turning off the air conditioner when you expect your heat-sensitive rapist neighbor might stop by.”
And as much as I wish you made that up, no, that’s a real fatwa. Better your wife spend her days in an un-air-conditioned house in a country with an average high temperature over 90 degrees.
There was another decree that prohibited women from handling bananas, cucumbers, and other phallic flora … that they might shove inside themselves in rabid seizures of uncontrollable female desire. Lesbians were also banned from buying almonds, curtains, and modern art … and from existing in the country.
There was also a fatwa against having sex naked, though, so you never have to know exactly which gender you’re fucking.
My favorite fatwa was issued in response to a clever group of Muslim adulteresses, who were cheating on their husbands with salt water. Turns out the word for “ocean” is a masculine noun, and if the wrong arbitrary linguistic gender assignment touches your wife’s vagina, it’s adultery. But for some reason, it’s perfectly normal for men to swim in a sea of dicks.
Just don’t swallow. It’s salty as fuck.
The Muslim Brotherhood showcased a surprisingly good string of puns when they released the following headline in conjunction with the Adultery Swim Fatwa . . . (quote) “Buoys on the Tide: Sticky situation in the Perversion Gulf as married women swim in gland shark infested waters seeking salt water staffy and motion in the brocean.” (end quote)
I’m adding the Adultery Swim channel’s existence to Jet Pack and the Darth Vader butt plug in case Santa is listening.
But here’s the problem . . . The Arabic word for “nothing” is also masculine, which means she’s gotta put something in there, but only about half the things are eligible, so it gets tricky. Book, but not page. Finger, but not knuckle. Shaft, but not tip. And again, no veggies, so what’s a girl to do?!?
Fatwa: Women who swim in the ocean are committing adultery: http://www.richarddawkins.net/news_articles/2013/12/1/-fatwa-women-who-swim-in-the-sea-commit-adultery-should-be-punished <<also>> http://indiatoday.intoday.in/story/fatwa-al-azhar-university-cairo-women-swimming-in-sea-adultresses/1/326883.html
And in “Satan debatin’” news tonight; devil’s advocate, posthumous lesbianator and head of the New York based Satanic Temple Lucien Greaves has made it back into the news this week by filing a request to place a Satanic monument on the steps of the Oklahoma Statehouse… right next to the one with the ten commandments on it. Greaves argues that if that space is reserved for religious displays, his religion has as much right to it as any other and unfortunately for Oklahoma theocrats, the stupid laws they recently enacted accidentally agree with him.
This is the great playground moment. That asshole kid makes up a shitty new rule about the endzone boundary, and the very next play he’s past the hydrant, so it’s out of bounds.
When asked about the possibility of a Satanic monument, representative Bobby Cleveland dismissed the idea and the Satanists behind it as falling under (quote) “the nut category”. And not because believing in a giant red monster with a pitchfork that tempts humanity and runs the HR department in Hades is nutty.
So the notion that Lex Luthor exists is ridiculous … but Superman’s obviously real!!!
The Temple says they’re considering a number of designs none of which, unfortunately, involve Jesus and sodomy. And I’d put 30 seconds on the clock here for Jesus Butt-Rape porn titles, but something tells me we’re gonna need that 30 seconds later.
But if anybody wants to chime in with a few, it’s been way too long since (hashtag) Butt Raping Jesus was trending on Twitter . . . I’ll get things rolling . . . Ass-Holy Communion: Receiving the Body of Christ . . .
Satanist seek to put up monument in Oklahoma courthouse: http://www.foxnews.com/us/2013/12/08/satanists-seek-spot-next-to-ten-commandments-monument-on-steps-oklahoma/
And from the “Popes Parting Velvet Ropes” file, Catholicism’s Rico Chart-Topper told Italian churchgoers that he gained valuable experience as a bouncer at a nightclub in Argentina, where it was also very important to correctly identify the age of a minor, no matter what kind of tip they offered. His only regret was jumping right into the priesthood, before he got more experience working the rear entrance.
I wonder how the Union of Argentinian Bouncers is taking this news. On the one hand they might be thinking of using it in their advertising; you know, bounce today, pontificate tomorrow; but on the other hand it’s gotta knock your badass image down three or four spots when people know your job could be done by the elderly hybridization of Woody Allen and Droopy Dog.
To bolster his reputation as the “people’s” supreme pontiff, Pope Frangioplasty made sure to mention that before he was even known as Reverend Whore-Gay Beer Goggles, he was just a normal blue-collar guy, checking fugitive Nazi ID’s, sweeping floors, and figuring out how to become humanity’s conduit to the implied omnipotent watch-maker of the universe.
Pope admits he used to work as a bouncer: http://religion.blogs.cnn.com/2013/12/03/pope-i-was-once-a-bar-bouncer/
And in the “Who Would Jesus Shitcan?” file tonight, we have the story of Michael Griffin, a former teacher at the Holy Ghost Preparatory school in Bensalem, Pennsylvania, who was a current teacher at the Holy Ghost Preparatory school in Bensalem, Pennsylvania until administrators recently found evidence that he was trying to marry a dude.
It’s weird that they find the ‘attempt to marry’ more offensive than the pre-marital butt sex.
And because US law somehow protects the rights of Catholic institutions to write in “no sucking off dudes” clauses into employment contracts, this bullshit is legal. When asked how being gay-married could possibly affect the performance of Spanish and French teacher, an imaginary representative of the school explained that (quote) “being a homosexual probably helps you with French but he has to teach Spanish, too.”
Gay Catholic School teacher fired for applying for marriage lisence: http://www.theguardian.com/society/2013/dec/08/us-catholic-school-fires-gay-teacher-marriage
And in “Rush versus The Holy Triumverate” news, Rush Limbaugh is furious at Pope Franno Domini for endangering the Republican Party’s delicate Christianity hijack mission, by reminding Catholics that Jesus – as well as Kindergarten – both teach that “sharing is nice”. Limbaugh believes the Pope is just bitter over losing to him in a “Jowl Roundness Contest”.
I’m dying to know how that thing was judged: I’m picturing them both holding one of those little Japanese drums from Karate Kid Two under their chins, flopping their heads back and forth. Next up, in the acorn hoarding round…
The Octo-Chinned Conservative Casey Kasem – who labeled the Pope’s sharing remarks as (quote) “pure Marxism” – became an expert economist while failing to graduate from Southeast Missouri State. In fairness, for all we know he could have breezed through at his safety school, which was West Northwest Southeast Missouri A&M.
Limbaugh released a segment called, “It’s Sad How Wrong Pope Francis Is [parentheses] (Unless It’s a Deliberate Mistranslation By Leftists)” . . . So built into his title – in parentheses! … as if almost tacitly understood! – is the claim that liberal spies have likely infiltrated the English translation department at the Vatican, for the purposes of sneaking references to “Das Kapital” into the Pope’s translated speeches, thus undermining American capitalism.
He’s not the best in the business for nothin’. Glenn Beck would have needed 10 minutes and a chalkboard to connect all that shit and Rush does it 14 words and some brackets.
In honor of shitty Christian commentators, as well as yellow and brown journalists everywhere, let’s put 30 seconds on the clock . . . Christian Assholes as Shit Porn Stars – GO!!!
And I’m adding the 30 seconds I didn’t use earlier because that’s fucking awesome. So now go.
I’ll start it out with a topical Flush Limbaugh … just as a courtesy.
Bowel O’Steen? Wait… that sounded better before I said it… um… Joel O’Stain?
Maybe Bowl Osteen? . . . No- Bowel Sharpton.
Or Bowely Graham, maybe?
Speaking of stretching the bowels: Bran Coulter?
Dick Santorum’s too easy . . . Wolf Shitzer?
Cardinal Timothy Colon
Fanny Crosby? That’s only funny if you’re a fan of late 17th century hymns, I guess. How about Pope Fran-Cesspool?
L Ron Buggered
No fair using Scientologists. My first thought was Shit Romney, but I didn’t use him, because Mormonism is a cult.
Rush v. the Holy Triumverate: http://religion.blogs.cnn.com/2013/12/02/rush-limbaugh-vs-the-pope/
Well, I hate to pinch off the poop puns early, but we’re outta time. Heath, thanks for hanging out.
And when we return, Lucinda will join us to ruin her chances at a future political career.
One Kings in Rhyme
I suppose that if I was a deity, who fashioned the earth and the seas,
Then covered all up in creatures and made some subordinate mes,
And I had a message I wanted to send them, something that I thought was vital,
I’d probably write them a list of instructions, or at least divinely inspire a bible.
It would be hard to decide what to tell them, though, since the book could be only so long,
I’d want them to know there was purpose, and to know the right path from the wrong.
And I’d stress over what I’d include there, and I’d stress over what to omit,
After all there’s a lot more to say than the space of one single book would permit.
See, I’d want to impart on them knowledge, and show them the value of peace,
And I’d probably want to include something in it, about the nature of germs and disease.
Should I remind them not to rape women? Or not to make people work without pay?
Should I tell them they can’t beat their children? Or beat off more than four times a day?
Should I explain that the sun’s in the center? Or the value of washing with soap?
Should I explain in unmistakable terms that there’s always a reason to hope?
Well, according to god the most wise course of action, is to leave out all of those things,
And make sure there’s plenty of space that’s left over, for a long list of Israel’s kings.
But I guess that’s why I don’t write bibles, and am just some anonymous tit,
And he’s the all-knowing creator of all, and the alpha, omega and shit.
If you read my book you’d know to be thoughtful, and to let people love who they choose,
But I’d fuck up and leave out important details, like who led the sixth century BCE jews.
I’d have skipped all the stuff about Solomon, and the temple he built for the Lord,
And instead I’ve had told them how telescopes work and what wonders they might point them toward.
I’d have droned on and on about hygiene, wasted time on nutritional facts,
And forgotten to mention who was leading the Jews when the Philistine army attacks.
I’d have pissed away pages on problems they would face as their populace grows,
And I’d have probably put is some stuff I can’t fathom that only a deity knows.
I’d have wasted a couple of chapters on the equality of genders and races,
And I’d have forgotten to smite them and punish their children for pillar and poles in high places.
I suppose that if I were to write it, you’d have questions at the end of the tome.
Like, “How long did it take for the third king of Israel to finish building his solid gold home?”
So I’ll submit that as I’m just a mortal, I can’t fathom a deity’s ways,
But from my perspective it’s fair to conclude that he sure writes in mysterious phrase.
Babble (One Kings)
One Kings; because god knows that you can never get enough mythologized Jewish history. This book babbles endlessly about a series of Israel’s kings as though it’s daring you to keep reading.
And I think the singular is pronounced “king”.
So joining Heath and me to celebrate being one sixth of the way through this book is my beautiful wife Lucinda, Lucinda, welcome back.
Always happy to be here.
The books are pretty linear at this point, so no need to set anything up; this basically starts right where Two Samuel ends.
Now King David is old and sick and we have to decide who gets to be the next king.
But before we get to all that, we have to tell you about the king’s new hooker, who he wasn’t fucking.
No, she was just keeping him warm.
“She wasn’t jerking me off! She was trying to start a fire with my cock.”
Yeah, King David was cold so his doctor prescribed a new virgin. And also Solomon became king and his bro Adonijah was more than a little pissed about it.”
The talent pool in the desert must have been running dry, considering the most attractive woman in the land is named “Abishag the Shunammite” . . . Sounds more like an orc general from Lord of the Rings.
Then we get this touching bit where David takes Solomon aside and offers his final words. And it’s basically a list of people he wants Solomon to kill.
Including Shimei, the dude that David promised not to kill in the previous chapter. He says, “All I said was I wouldn’t kill him. I never said anything about you, or other hired assassins. That wasn’t in the contract.”
And then Adonijah says, “Hey bro, since you got the whole kingdom and everything, you think I could have dad’s new hooker?” Solomon says “no” and then kills him for asking.
And then Solomon proves he’s wise by threatening to cut a baby in half.
This is actually a pretty fucked up story. Two women are accusing each other of killing their baby and swapping him out for a living one, which is fucked up enough before David starts threatening to split the baby down the middle.
So naturally the real mom says, “No, don’t chop the baby in half you fucking psycho!” but the other lady says, “Yeah, that makes sense. I’ll take half a baby. It’s enough for a stew.”
And this is Solomon’s tagline moment . . . His “Yippie Ki-Yay Mother Truckers!” His defining biblical event is an episode of Judge Judah, when he settles a maternity dispute between a murderous whore and a regular whore. Also, since when are single mother whores trying to keep their babies?!? I guess the name Johnson had to start somewhere.
And then chapter 4 is basically a list of Solomon’s cabinet, a list of what he eats and a list of people he was smarter than.
They make very sure to mention that he spake 3000 proverbs, and wrote one thousand … five … songs … Which is clearly bullshit. Those are the most obviously “made-up numbers” I’ve ever heard. There’s no way he hits EXACTLY 3000 proverbs and EXACTLY 1000 songs, but can’t resist writing 5 extra jingles.
And then Solomon gets the wheels turning on his new temple. And let me tell ya it’s gonna be one bitchin’ ass temple.
And in case you were wondering, say, how many cubits wide the nave was or how many sides the door posts have, it’s all spelled out in chapter six.
Yeah, and god has the same interior design sense as Jay-Z apparently.
HaShemTV Cribs . . . Sons of Joshua Cribs
And then we get all the important details about Solomon’s palace, including the latticework, the dishes, candle snuffers and spittoons. Really important shit going on here.
“I know I’m just a slave laborer helping you build a palace, but do you guys think it’s the best idea to put all the gold, and the god box, all in one place?!? I think we’re overdoing it a little. I’m literally carrying a single basket of golden eggs.”
And then he has a house party…
And for all his help building the temple and shit, Solomon gives Hiram 20 cities, but apparently they were his 20 crappiest cities.
This book of the bible is like a first date with a rich douche. Every few sentences we’re hearing about Solomon’s throne or his golden vessels or his fleets or his platinum butt plug.
I think we call this a … ‘teachable moment’ … Jews should only put the rarest of metals in their palace, and in their ass. “But hold on – Stop making golden calves. You guys always go straight to that!”
And in chapter 10 I’m pretty sure it brags about him fucking the Queen of Sheba, too.
I believe it said he gave her everything she desired, and a taste of the royal bounty on top. So I’m pretty sure they fucked, and it sounds like they even got a milk and honey shot in there.
And in case you were wondering what kind of mileage he’s getting with that dick of his, Chapter 11 actually starts with the words, “Solomon loved many foreign women” and went on to describe his harem of more than a thousand wives..
This guy spread more STDs to minorities than the Tuskeegee Experiments.
And if I’ve learned anything from this book, when vaginas show up, trouble can’t be far behind. So, of course, his wives talk him into turning against god and offering burnt offerings to other gods so real god concoct this convoluted, multi-generational revenge plot.
So Solomon dies and his son Rehoboam takes over. The people come to their new king saying, “Hey, it would be awesome if you stopped whipping us.” And Rehoboam endeared himself to the people by saying, “You don’t like the whips? No more whips. We’ll use scorpions instead.”
And then the kingdom was divided because god likes to go over his shoulder to scratch his ass.
And they open 2 Mooby Burgers.
So you’ve got Jeroboam who god gives a chunk of the kingdom to and he’s an asshole, too. He starts making non-Levite priests so god sends a prophet to tell Jeroboam that the shit’s about to hit the fan.
And then god kills the prophet with a fucking lion for eating food and drinking water.
Falls for the oldest trick in the book. Some guy walks up to him: “Are you a prophet from God? Get the fuck out of here – me too!!! Let’s go eat. Oh you have a note from God that says don’t eat. This is so crazy. I have a note. Also from God. Says that you should disregard your note and go eat with me, after which you will definitely NOT be mauled by a tiger.”
So basically you’ve got Jeroboam running Israel into the ground and at the same time you’ve got Rehoboam fucking things up in Judah.
Yeah, apparently they were making high places, pillars and sacred poles. And if that’s not bad enough (and it is), their temple prostitutes were the wrong gender.
Bunch of savages in this town.
Man-whores just aren’t cost effective . . . from an orifice perspective. Less bang for your buck . . . despite more “schmekel per shekel”.
And is it just me or is this book pissed off at you for reading it? It keeps saying stuff like “And are not the acts of Abijam, are they not written in the Annals of the Kings of Judah?”
Are you telling me the Gideons expect me to just guess what else happened to Abijam?!? I’m sitting here in my hotel room like an idiot … trying to get the whole story on this Judaism stuff.
And during this unending war between Israel and Judah the Israelis get some practice walling off territories and that’ll come in handy later.
And then we just start churning through one king after the other. King so and so reigned for so many years and did evil by the lord greater than all the kings before him and then he died, ad infinitum
And then we finally meet Elijah, who god is pawning around during a drought. And he’s pretty badass. He has birds that feed him and magic jars of food and he even brings kids back from the dead by rubbing his genitals against them.
Right … three dick rubs resurrects a dead baby. They don’t mention this, but if you do it right, that will also get you to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop. I learned that the hard way.
So Elijah shows up all Charles Bronsony and decides to prove that god is god by challenging the prophets of Baal to a divine Ox-burning contest, in which he kicks ass.
And then to emphasize how total his victory is, he kills all the prophets of Baal.
Then Elijah flees like a pansy and god commands him to anoint a few new kings.
And in a lost “who’s on first base” opportunity, Elijah meets Elisha
Then there’s some boring war shit and one king attacks another king… fuck, I don’t even know anymore. All I know is somebody didn’t kill the person god told him to kill so god gets all pissy.
And we learn this from a bizarre story involving a masochistic prophet and a divine lion attack.
Then Ahab wants Naboth’s vineyard, but he won’t sell it. So Ahab’s wife arranges to have him stoned to death.
God hears about this and gets pissed so he sends Elijah to tell Ahab he’s fucked and dogs are gonna eat his wife.
But Ahab fasts and wears a sack around so god says, “shucks, I guess I don’t have to kill you and have dogs eat your wife. I suppose we can save that punishment for your kids.”
And then it ends with this long, pointless story about Jehoshaphat and the King of Israel want to go to war with Ramoth-Gilead and all but one of the prophets say they’ll win, but one prophet says the other prophets are full of shit… and they were.
And the king gets killed in battle and, just as god had decreed, dogs lapped up his blood and, and in an understated twist, prostitutes bathed in it.
Yeah I’m confused by all the whore talk. Why would there be prostitutes … when they had slaves? Slave is the world’s oldest profession. That’s like buying CDs on Napster.
So I suppose the real mystery of One Kings is how the fuck they managed to finance the sequel. We’ll find that out in three weeks and in the meantime, we’ll be washing our brains out with soap. Heath, Lucinda, thanks for sticking with it.
Before we ring the final bell tonight, I wanted to make a quick correction. We covered a story last week about public prayer booths in Kansas City and it was almost completely bullshit. Sorry about that. Another fail in our story-vetting process. We’ll try to tighten that up and in the meantime I want to thank all the astute listeners who clued us in on that.
I also wanted to let everyone know that the nomination phase has started for the 2nd annual Stitcher Awards. Heath, Lucinda and I really, really, really want to win one and we need your help. You can nominate us up to once per day in as many categories as you think are appropriate. So if you have a few minutes and you’re feeling generous this holiday season, please head over to Stitcher (dot) promoTW (dot) com and nominate the shit out of us. Daily. I’m not too proud to beg. You’ll also find links to the nomination page on our blog, our Twitter feed and our Facebook page because, like I said, I’m not too proud to beg.
That’s all the blasphemy we have for you this week, but we’ll be back in 168 hours with a visit from the Friendly Atheist himself, Hemant Mehta so get excited about that. But if you can’t wait that long, be sure to check out episode 33 of The Herd Mentality Podcast with Adam Reakes, where you can hear my impression of Joel O’Steen orgasming to death on an 8 horsepower, turbocharged, solid gold butt plug.
I need to thank Heath for keeping it real, Lucinda for putting up with the two of us, I want to thank everyone who did some Holiday shopping on our Cafe Press site and, of course, a huge thanks to Evan Bernstein from the Skeptics’ Guide to the Universe for providing this week’s Farnsworth quote. He’s one fifth of my all-time favorite podcast, really cool of him to do it and of course, you’ll find a link to his show on this week’s shownotes, right next to the link to nominate us for a Stitcher Award.
But most of all I need to thank this week’s most valuable humans, Wayne, Debbie and Vinnie; Wayne, whose ejaculations have seismological designations; and Debbie and Vinnie, whose altruism and advice deserves less of a one liner and more of a very genuine thanks on behalf of both my wife and myself for reminding us that generally speaking, humans are awesome.
And since I already hit you up for a Stitcher nomination half a dozen times, I’m not gonna bother reminding you that if you’d like to support the show financially you’ll find the donation button on the right side of the homepage at Scathing Atheist (dot) com.
If you have questions, comments or death threats, you’ll find all the contact information on the contact page at Scathing Atheist (dot) com. All the music used in this episode was written and performed by yours truly and yes, I did have my permission.