It is good to be an atheist!

As always I would suggest you to read “About” and “Checklist for The Cancer Club” before you read on. And please remember: I don´t have any religious feelings you could hurt!

A typical conversation between blasphemist and outspokenly atheist me and one of the people I sooo enjoy making mad and sad, namely those who “have faith or believe in god”.  As a preliminary let it be said that I have been quite often molested by religious people who know I have been atheist for decades and who think their chance of converting me to their faith has finally come, what with my cancer experience. If only they had known better…

Them: “Oh, you had cancer. Don’t be afraid. Have faith. God’s always there. You’re NEVER alone!”

Me: What a fucked-up idea. Even as a child I was ALWAYS freaked out but NEVER consoled by that thought. Good thing is. I don’t believe that paranoid crap. How fucked up can a parent be to threaten their child with the notion that an old hairy guy is watching them constantly, no matter what they do. No wonder that dyed-in-the-wool Catholics often suffer from psychoses and paranoia. Imagine a child on the toilet (“You’re not alone!”), or writing in its diary (“You’re not alone!”), or examining its genitals (You’re not alone!”), or picking its nose (“You’re not alone!”), or dreaming of its secret love (“You’re not alone!”). Being denied privacy altogether leads to heavy damages of personality and usually results in massive psychological problems.

Them: But God is good. He loves you. He loves everybody.

Me: Think, think, think, think, think. Wait a moment. Ah, yes, this is bullshit.

1.     I don’t know this guy. How dares he love me? I have no inclination whatsoever to be loved by him.

2.     What calculating crap. This “He loves everybody” thing is obviously a trick of his publicity department. The strategy is called over-generalisation and is used to sell as much shit to as many people as possible. Look at adverts for products like yoghurts that contain “special strands of bacteria”. These adverts suggest that your immune system is crap. That catching cold is -if not dangerous- at least a sign of a malfunction of your immune system. And they offer cure. Their product will put an end to the ailments that your imperfect body causes you. Billions of Euros are spent on products that people believe will prevent them from catching cold, or will help them overcome colds more quickly. But colds are NORMAL, they don’t kill you and you will always catch cold, over and over and over again, for as long as you live. And no matter what medicine you take: the cold will last between 7 days and a week.

3. And I have always felt molested by these scary “father-murders-his-own-son” stories of an old (and in my imagination bearded) patriarch with NO love at all for and a non-existent relationship with his son, the outcome of which is the murdering of that named son.

Them: But it wasn’t God who nailed his son to the cross, it was the Roman Governor/ Jewish community who condemned him.

Me: Why was I told this completely mind-fucking shit as a small child? It is damaging. I was completely appalled by the notion that people nailed other people to crosses. And I was scared shitless by the idea that a Jewish zombie returned from his tomb. Gosh, he must have been in such a mess, what with his bloody skimpy loincloth, no shoes, no jumper, nothing to hide his bloodstained face and his dishevelled hair. I imagined him to walk with wide open eyes and a mad stare on his dead face. I was wondering how far the rotting of his remains had proceeded when he decided to go for another walk.

Thank you very much, catholic teachers at primary school for your unasked for intrusion upon my up until that point rather innocent world view. Thank you indeed for implanting inextinguishable pictures of disgusting horrors in my head. Whoever is responsible for this, please ensure that the horror stories from the bible are labeled: suitable only for persons of 18 years or over.

Them: (Weeping, screaming, cursing) How dare you?! (blah-blah)

Me: Okay back to Jesus  and this god. Their connection is, well, hazy, or can I saynebulous??! Who did Maria have petting with? Had she missed out on the sex education lessons at school and had fallen for that stuff that you can only get pregnant if you have actual penetration sex? Well, as a biology teacher I must contradict this notion severely. If only she had listened to HER biology teacher better. Or her mother and father. Did Maria know HER father? Or can we find the reason for her inability to show responsibility for her actions (= sex!!!) in that relationship?

Them: (exasperated) But Maria conceived immaculately. She received the blessing of the holy ghost.

Me: Instead of condemning girls for having sex, which they clearly do, and driving them into some schezophrenic self-delusion, we need to appreciate them as human beings. How horrible Maria must have felt, how terribly alone and let down. I am sorry for her and for every other girl in history and even today, who is driven into an equivalent of Maria’s actions, just that today you may replace her weird choice of place for giving birth,  “the stable” by “a toilet”. What bigottry.

I bet the guy who impregnated her had a good story to tell. Where were all the good people then? But actually I don’t really give a fuck about Maria. I only give a fuck when I see how in the year 2014 in Germany girls are forced to wear their hair in long plaits, and how they are not allowed to wear trousers.

Some people argue that it is only hair and clothes, but don’t they stop and THINK before they speak? If girls are slaves in questions of haircut and clothes, how will they be treated if it comes to anything as important as say, sexuality? What if they don’t like cock but prefer pussy? What if they don’t want to get married at all? What if they want to go to University after school? What if they fall in love with someone outside their religious community? How can I shut up when I witness anything as medieval as that. These girls are denied basic human rights. Mr Ban Ki-moon, can you please send blue helmets to intervene!?

Them: (again AND stomping their feet, in a whining voice) But Maria conceived immaculately.

Me: You are repeating yourself. But okay. – Ah, yeah, that’s also what my friend said about herself when she became pregnant at 15. But later she told me that she had just fucked a bit. Of course I had no idea that her condition (pregnancy) had the least connection with sex but had naturally assumed that she had had a date with the holy ghost. Because that’s the far more convincing story.

Them: But you cannot say that. Don’t besmirch Maria’s innocence.

Me: Ohohoh, sooo sweet. Aren’t you an inconsistent little fucker!? And now you want to exchange opinions with me. But your premises are invalid for me.

1. YOU think that sex is dirty. I enjoy sex and hold it to be extremely natural and healthy. I’ve a question: Do you hate yourself if you feel anything like lust? And another one: do you have to punish yourself IF you experience an orgasm? And if yes: Would a whip be adequate or do I have to think more along the lines of thorny rods? Or would more sex be a suitable punishment as it is so dirty and bad.

Oh wow, what a complete nutter you are, if you think that Jesus didn’t need a Y-chromosome. Congrats, you have just proved to be too dumb to understand the world better than  the people 2000 years ago. Can you please pay the tax-payer the money back that your school education cost?!

2. you suggest that your world view and mine have anything in common. Your ignorance and studpidity have nothing in common with either my knowledge or my intelligence. I don’t actually want to converse with you because I am pretty sure that you won’t be able to intellectually digest any of my arguments.

3. what you say and do is wishful thinking. Your behaviour is that of a small child sitting with crossed fingers and crossed legs and eyes closed wishing soooo hard that please, please, please there be miracles.

4. you seem to think that I am interested in theological debate. With you. Sorry to disappoint you, but I am neiter interested in you, nor in theological debate, and as I don’t believe in your little god or in any other, there are no grounds for debate either. Plus, a debate is only possible with someone whose intellect equals mine and who has my respect, which brings me back to number 2. Full stop. Thank you for your attention.

Them: (Outry, outrage) How dare you insult me and my religion?! blah-blah

Me: I’ve had enough of that passive-aggressive bullshit. You know what, I really cross my fingers for you to be RIGHT about your stories about eternal punishment in hell. And that it is YOU who will end up there. God, this is such a reward for all my year-long patience in hours of intense bullshit from you.

Them: This is blasphemy!

Me: Oh, I am sooo sorry. Crying “blasphemy” is the standard excuse of the believers.

Blasphemy is the joker card of the religious, the equivalent of the “you-will-be-released-from-prison”-card of the monopoly players.

Them: (Blah-blah-blah!) God will help you back on the right path. (Blah-blah!) Never forget: you have to be greatful because god healed you.

Me: It is quite interesting to witness the weird reflex of many people who ascribe the power to an allknowing Superbeing to cure a woman of the breastcancer that this same Superbeing has equipped the woman with in the first place because it is also an allpowerful Superbeing. And it is even weirder to find these people turn against one if enthusiasm for their concept is rather – shall we say small. And my thanks go to S again (to understand this, please read “Haunted by music in the head 2: K and S” in the section “No regrets”)!

It has NOT been a pleasure.

YOURS, unfaithfully,

Maid Manu.

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You should definitely read “About” and “The Cancer Checklist” before you read on. And I am quite sorry to harm any of your religious feelings. Mind you: I have none.

After a quite challenging 2013, if you look at the number of days spent in hospital and the high quantity of operations, I feel the need to ask for a more convinient, comfortable, less hospitally 2014. And who could I best turn to but THE LORD. I’ve been told that he is the chief executive manager of health deals. Okay, here I go.

Dear Lord,

I am not sure how to put this nicely, but I am a tiny weeny bit fed up. I have sent you quite a few intercessions and am still waiting for some results. Any results would do. Is it my fault? I mean, I think I have been quite precise. Is there a problem in understanding what I have said? Didn’t I articulate my intercessions well? Or do your angels not speak English? I always quite naïvely thought they were multilingual. I mean when I left school I could speak English, French and German and read and write Latin. Do you want me to intercede in written form? Shall I turn to you in Latin the next time?

Well, this is why I have decided to WRITE today because I thought you and/or the angels might find it convenient to get something in written form, properly spelled out in front of them. Or is English the problem in the first place? Because of all the “Anglican Church hubub” in the 16th century? Are you a convinced Catholic? Well I, personally don’t like that Henry VIII chap either. I think he was a bit misguided. Well not of course in that he wanted other, more functional wives and all that beheading stuff. But in that he didn’t turn to you properly by means of intercession to ask you to intervene with the pope’s decision. Or did he?

Okay. Here is what I think. 1. Your angels are not well-trained in languages any more. 2. Your office is – if at all – lousily organised.

How do your angels prioritise the incoming intercessions? Is a form necessary? Do you hand out numbers? Is there a queue there? Do you differentiate between privately insured interceders and those in the National Intercession System (NIS)? Do you cooperate with the CSI (Celestial System of Intercessions) or the NCIS (National Celestial Intersession System)? Would the Pope’s intercessions be prioritised over those of Somalian AIDS orphans?

Or are you over-worked? Is you work-life balance unbalanced? Do you fall for this ridiculous, misguided multi-tasking stuff? I am thinking about the following scenario:

Here is a day in the life of a multi-tasking deity, trying to handle several billion intercessions at the same time.

9:00 a.m. MET: God’s enjoying a cup of moccacino whilst

-looking after the new first graders in a local Worcestershire primary school so that they don’t get lost in the building (true story 😉 yep) AND at the same time

-sending pox and malaria to a refugee camp in Somalia on demand  PLUS

-inventing recipes for new cocktails in a Manhattan club AND ON TOP of this

-looking after the old, the young, the sick, the healthy, men, women, dogs, children, 00ps! Wrong order! Butterflies, cars, football games (always both teams), a few thousand harvests in Montana, a couple of rivers in northwest Germany, the quality of the cheese in a northern Italian cheesery, christmas pudding in Southampton, the Italian mafia, the Russian mafia, the Chinese mafia, the New York branches of the Italian mafia, the Russian mafia, the Chinese mafia, their victims (or don’t they become victims if they intercede?), the Tasmanian devil, Bugs Bunny, Donald Duck, all the Catholics, the Protestants, the Jewish, Baptists, Menonites, Methodists, Bagwan’s supporters, Jehova’s witnesses, Hindu…

Speaking of the Hindu. God, you should probably convert to Hinduism, where you could cooperate with 29 million 999,999 other deities. Thus, each of you would only have to work on one intercession per minute. Roughly.

You should seriously think about converting, if you’re not a dyed-in-the-wool CATHOLIC because I am a bit worried about your health. Findings from neuro science show that with all your vainless efforts to multitask YOU – the Lord – may be on the verge of burnout. I offer to give you advice in questions of organisation of your work-life-balance.

Can you, in exchange for my help, make sure to work on my list of intercessions first?! Is their anything besides office organisation that I can do to move up in the list? What can I bring you? Do you still fancy sacrifices of oxen? Well, these days they’re not as easy to come by, but I will see what I can do. Or are you more into the virgins business these days? I’ve heard that they can be imported from a few eastern European countries. Although you might have to dispense with the “virgin” part in “virgins”, sorry. But “willing flesh” might do just as well, don’t you think so!? And probably I could ask for bigger numbers if the ladies don’t arrive fresh.

Okay, if that is it, let us begin. Enough of the chit-chat, let’s get down to business!

1.     Oh Lord, from now on let my list of intercessions always be FIRST.

2.     Could you perhaps look after the “schnitzel”* from my back well and ensure that its blood supply isn’t interrupted. (*”the schnitzel” is a lump of muscle and skin from my back that has been transferred to one of my breasts to relieve the pressure on the radiated skin.)

3.     Holy father, can you please make sure that the radiated skin on my right breast doesn’t burst open again.

4.     Please promise that the morphium pump functions well and doesn’t overdose.

5.     Dear God, can you please send some brain for the assistant doctors? And don’t forget to send a language course, too.

6.     And can you look after the catheter at night? Just to make sure it stays where it is supposed to be.

7.     Father in heaven, please give my surgeon calm hands.

8.     Good God, please be so kind as to be lenient with me the next time my blood pressure says hasta la vista.

9.     Dear Lord, please prevent the antibiotics from exuding into the surrounding tissue of a burst blood vessel. Because that’s fucking painful and not too convenient.

10.  And can you look after the redons. Because with undertow they tend to export too much bloody liquids. And I only have a limited amount of the latter.

11. If there is an emergency that has to do with ME, will you please wake up the doctor who is on duty PROPERLY and help him not too be pissed off with me. Again.

12.  And last but not least. Great Father, is it possible to bestow upon the night nurse a stressfree shift? And if perchance I need her, make her willing to help.

13.  Just one more. Don’t make the puncture needle too pointed and the puncture not too painful, please.

Okay, I guess that’s it. One will see. My job’s done. Do yours! I hope you don’t mind my candidness.


P.S. Can I send my future intercessions by e-mail? Is your e-mail address “”? Can you make sure they won’t be classified as spam? Is the spelling of GOD a problem? I mean because in your e-mail it is “god” instead of “God”.

Yours, completely unreligiously,

Maid Manu.

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