X-Men: Days of Future Past Review

Watching X-Men: Days of Future Past made me realize exactly what comic book superhero movies need to do in order to keep audiences interested, and at the same time it reminded me of exactly what was wrong with The Amazing Spider-Man 2.

With the latest Spider-Man installment, the plot was roughly the same as what you'd see in a 90s Batman movie (although it didn't suffer from the other problems of that particular series). With the newest X-Men film, you get something that you haven't quite seen before. It didn't have a completely different vibe from its predecessors the way Captain America: The Winter Soldier did, but it didn't feel like just another installment that will blend in my memory with the rest of them.

As a fan of comic books, I don't think that it's a coincidence that the more the movies take from the comics as their inspiration, the better they tend to be, and this was no exception. Longtime comics readers know that this was an adaptation of a favorite story from the comic books. (I have fond memories of it myself, as a friend of mine gave me the second part as a back issue for my birthday.)

Of course, if you're expecting a direct adaptation of the comic story, you won't get it, but that's not what I'm talking about. What works in a monthly comic book won't work in a movie, especially one that's already rooted in its own continuity (and manages to have as many problems with said continuity as a comic book series that's been running for fifty years). The point is that if Hollywood is going to look to comic books as inspiration, then they should actually look to the comics - not just the characters but the stories.

Anyway, all that said, while I think that it's too early for me to declare that this is the best movie in the franchise (especially considering how partial I am to The Wolverine) it's safe to say that it's one of the better ones. For me, it had everything that I liked about the first two X-Men movies - strong characters, a good story, etc. Lots of people seem to hate the third X-Men movie, but I think that it got a couple of things right - 1) better action scenes and 2) a sense of fun. This movie manages to mix in all of those good qualities. I mean, is it just me, or do the fights in the first two movies look more like funky dances than fights? The fights in this one were much more visceral and compelling.

While the fate of the future is at stake, and that's treated with the appropriate heavy hand, the movie definitely has its fun moments. Quicksilver's big scene comes to mind quickly, but Wolverine's journey back to the 1970s has some comedic value as well, without being ridiculous and over-the-top.

I've heard at least one person say that this is up there with The Avengers. I'm not so sure, but maybe that's because my expectations were raised a bit too high. I will say that it's a good one, and I'll point out that my wife enjoyed it, even though she hasn't been a fan of the previous installments (didn't even bother with The Last Stand or First Class - although she did like The Wolverine). It seems to be a success at the box office as well, so hopefully this means that Hollywood will continue to look at the comics for story ideas. I could make a suggestion or two if they need one.

Socialism!

I try to avoid strong-worded opinions about things where I feel as though I haven't done enough research. However, there are some issues where even though I feel like I don't know much about them, I feel like I know more than those who act like they're experts. Generally speaking, I try and steer away from heated debates on economic and (some) political issues. However, I did get into a mini debate over one particular hot button topic recently, and that was: socialism.

What is socialism? Well, it's un-American. It's anti-freedom. It means that working people have to give up their hard-earned money so illegal, freeloading, pregnant, abortionists can drive fancy cars and have cell phones. Oh, and Stalin. Hitler. Yeah. The bottom line? It doesn't work. It has never worked. It never will work. It is completely impossible for it to work.

Okay, maybe that's not quite what it is. However, that's the impression you get listening to some people. For them, it's bad, and there are no two ways about it. Personally, I think that it's a bit more complicated than that though.

For starters, I am well aware that tyrannical regimes like those of Stalin and Hitler used the word socialism to describe themselves. Under Hitler, it was the National Socialists. Under Stalin, it was the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. Both those guys were bad, so obviously if they're socialists, then socialism is bad. This, of course, makes sense. After all, North Korea's full title is the Democratic People's Republic of Korea. That's why we know that democracy, republics, and Korea is bad. Wait...what?

Okay, so maybe simply dismissing a word because of the screwed up people who use it isn't a smart way to go about this. Looking up the word in the dictionary shows us what the problem is, as while one of the definitions, "a system of society or group living in which there is no private property" certainly sounds pretty extreme, another one, "a way of organizing a society in which major industries are owned and controlled by the government rather than by individual people and companies" leaves a bit more room for discussion, especially when we keep in mind that "industry" can also refer to a "service".

With that in mind, it's pretty clear that even in good old freedom-loving 'Merica, we have a certain degree of socialism when it comes to some aspects of our lives, and I think that you'd be hard-pressed to find somebody who would want to get rid of these things. For instance, if there's a fire in your house and the fire department puts it out, do they send you a bill? No. Taxpayers pay for it. And the fire department will put out any fire in their district, no matter who owns it. (That's how it's supposed to work, anyway.) The same goes for the police, road workers, the military, public school teachers (scumbags), and that guy who changed my tire when it went flat on the freeway. (So glad for him - as my infant son was in the car, and it was a hot day.)

It's crazy because you can bring this up to people who are of the "socialism = bad" mindset and they'll look at you like you're talking crazy, even though they can't tell you why those things AREN'T socialism.

Another point is that not every country that utilizes socialism more than the U.S.A. has devolved into a Orwellian dystopia. Look at the Scandinavian countries (let's count Finland as one of them to help my point as well). While they have their problems the same as every other country, their citizens enjoy a whole lot of freedoms.

So, what are you saying then, Lance? Are you some kind of socialist? Never mind if I am or not. I don't feel like I understand it enough to declare myself one or insist that I'm not one. If after reading this you determine that I am one, then that's okay with me. My point is just that if we're going to discuss socialism, and you're automatic, knee-jerk reaction is that it's 100% bad, then you understand it even less than I do.

The Amazing Spider-Man 2 review

Since I've been a fan of Spider-Man pretty much all of my life, and I've written about the movies before, I should write about the latest installment: The Amazing Spider-Man 2.

In short, what I thought was as follows: It was entertaining, and while it has its moments, it ultimately brings nothing new to the table. I can see why the reviews are mixed. It's not that there's anything particularly bad about it; it's just that the bar has been raised pretty high on superhero movies, and this one seems to be content with giving you what you've already had. (At least X-Men: Days of Future Past has some ambition - hopefully it will pan out.) Ultimately, if you love Spider-Man as I do, then you should see this. If you've never cared for him or superhero movies in general, this one's not going to win you over.

What's good:

The effects - Spider-Man certainly looks better than we've ever seen him before. While in the original, he kinda looked like a cartoon character swinging around New York City, this version didn't have me thinking about how it was CGI. You really just get into the moment. Plus, Spidey looks the closest to how he looks in the comics than he ever has before.

The humor - Spider-Man cracks jokes. That's a signature element to the character. We get a lot of this, and that's cool.

The leads - Andrew Garfield, Emma Stone, and Sally Field all put in performances that make them really human and likeable. Jamie Foxx does a decent job with what he's given - more on that later.

What could be improved:

Too many villains - Batman Begins showed us that it was possible to have multiple villains and have everything work well, so I wasn't immediately writing this off when I found out that it would feature Electro, The Green Goblin, and The Rhino. Unfortunately, they weren't all used to great effect. The Rhino, in fact, felt like more of an afterthought than anything else. They could have saved him for the sequel.

Electro - Before I continue, let me say that I'm not a purist. I don't mind it when they make changes to characters so long as it's done for a good reason. However, Electro felt like a third-rate villain from the Burton/Shumacher era of Batman movies. Plus, he looked more like Dr. Manhattan than Electro. In the comics, Max Dillon was a sociopath to start with, and then when he got his powers it just made him worse. Why do all of Spidey's villains (in the movies) have to be sympathetic? It's not necessary, and we've seen great comic book villains who are bad because they simply have a screwed up world view. Personally, I think that they should have taken a note from the Nolan Batman movies and kept him a villain but gave him some true things to say (like Rha's al Ghul, The Joker, and Bane all did). This nerdy Max Dillon? Felt like I've seen it a million times before.

What sucked:

The guy who played Dr. Kafka - He felt like one of the supporting players from Batman and Robin.

What I'd like to see in the future:

Why not look to the comics and adapt Kraven's Last Hunt, the Clone Saga, the mystery of "Who is the Hobgoblin?" or Superior Spider-Man? They can mine those stories for good movies, and in the case of the Clone Saga, improve on it. Plus, I really wish that Marvel Studios owned the rights to him, because it would be great to see him team-up with some other superheroes like Daredevil.

I've heard that they're talking about making a Venom movie and a Sinister Six movie. That seems to me like they're just milking the franchise. Hopefully they'll start to lose money and then we can see Spidey back at Marvel so he can join the Avengers.

And for the record:

Yes, it was still tons better than Spider-Man 3.

The argument from ignorance

Ever have somebody accuse you of making an "argument from ignorance"? Kinda sounds like they're insulting you, aren't they? Nobody likes to be called ignorant, despite the fact that we're all ignorant of many things. (Except me. I know everything, but much of it I am sworn to never reveal.) Realize that it's not that the person is calling you ignorant though. Allow me to explain:

Imagine that you met a guy who said he didn't believe in the sun. What would you do? You'd walk him outside, grab a hold of his head, pry open his eyelids, and make him stare right at that big ball of fire until he was blind. Then you'd say, "Why do you think you're blind now, dumbass?"

What if you met a woman who said that she didn't believe in gravity? You'd take her to the tallest building and push her off. Using a bit of pre-planning, you'll make sure to attach an MP3 player on to her and stick the headphones in her ears. As she plummets to her death, the last thing she'd hear is: "What do you think is pulling you down to the ground now, dumbass?"

Maybe you have a friend who doesn't believe in evolution. What do you do but lock them up in the Smithsonian's Natural History Museum and make them memorize all of the transitional fossil and genetic evidence until you finally allow them to leave. (This person gets off much easier, but you can still call him/her a "dumbass" when it's all said and done.)

These, or perhaps somewhat less extreme, examples are what you'd do to prove the existence of what you're talking about. Do you know what you wouldn't do? You wouldn't say: "You can't prove that the sun/gravity/evolution ISN'T real." What kind of argument is that, anyway? It's not necessary when you can prove that they ARE real, is it?

And that's the argument from ignorance. It contributes absolutely nothing to the conversation, and it's not a piece of evidence. The problem is, people will use it to help bolster their claims for everything from God (most popular) to alien visitation, to dowsing. The problem is that it can work easily as well for Santa Claus, werewolves, or the Kardashians, yet nobody would take it seriously if that kind of argument was used. In other words: if an argument is a good one, then it works in all cases, not just the ones that you have already decided are legitimate.

Another form of the argument from ignorance goes along the lines of: "You can't explain X; therefore, I can explain X by saying that it's (insert preferred hypothesis here)." This is another argument that doesn't move a person's case forward at all. There are many things that defy explanation, but the thing is that there are fewer things that we can't explain now than there used to be. When we couldn't explain lightning, all that meant was that we couldn't explain it. It didn't mean that the explanations that people offered up (wrath of an angry sky-god) were somehow more legitimate.

The problem is that it's using ignorance about something as evidence, but ignorance is just that. It proves nothing but a gap in knowledge. For some reason though, people don't like gaps in knowledge, and unfortunately the response isn't necessarily to figure out what the answer is but to supply an answer that can't be justified by any actual evidence.

The two most popular examples of this form of argument from ignorance are the "God of the gaps" and the favorite of the History Channel: "aliens of the gaps". Things are complicated and mysterious, and rather than simply acknowledging that and saying: "We have a lot to learn", they're inserted as "evidence".

I once was accused of being condescending by pointing out that an argument was merely a "God of the gaps". I didn't know how to respond other than to point out that's exactly what had happened. The other person provided no evidence for the existence of God other than to say that a God can explain things that are complicated. Well, if you want to believe that a God is a good explanation, then that's fine, but you need to provide a reason why he's a good explanation - not just the fact that he's AN explanation.

I was then accused of doing the same thing, filling in gaps in knowledge with an "atheism of the gaps". That was a real head-scratcher, and an obvious example of how misunderstood atheism actually is. Atheism provides no explanations. When I can't explain something, I say that I can't explain it. I don't say: "I can't explain it; therefore, it wasn't God." In other words, there is no "therefore" in my point of view. If you want to say that God explains it, then you have to provide evidence for that.

Take my example of the guy who gets blinded by sunlight. The bright light from the sun explains that. And it's not just the "sun of the gaps". We can explain exactly WHY the sun's light does that, and there are other evidences for the sun (like photosynthesis, its warmth, the results are repeatable and verifiable, the fact that you can SEE THE DAMNED THING, etc.) We know what the sun is, what it's comprised of, what it does, and so on. When it comes to God (or aliens) we don't know exactly what he/she/it is or anything about it. When asked questions like that, the other person will appeal to some sort of mystery - which is the heart of the problem. It's replacing a mystery with another mystery, which gets us absolutely no closer to solving the problem.

Keep in mind that using the argument from ignorance does not automatically make you wrong. If a person actually did use "You can't prove that the sun doesn't exist!" as an actual argument, that wouldn't suddenly mean that the sun doesn't exist. Likewise, a person who uses the God of the Gaps hasn't suddenly invalidated the existence of God. God could very well be real - but he's not real for the reason that's being given. In other words, you can make a bad argument for something that's true.

The only thing that I'd point out though is that if the only reasons you have for believing something are all arguments from ignorance, at the very least, you should take a long hard look at why you still believe that.

You WILL enjoy this, even if it traumatizes you!

Long before my son was born, I used to see parents take their kids to see Santa Claus at the mall. That's all good and fine, but what always made me wonder was when I saw the parents make their kids sit on Santa's lap even when the kids were crying. "Why are you doing that to your kid?" I would think to myself.

I can see why you'd make the effort to go out to see Santa, but I don't see why it's so important that you'd let your kid get all upset over it. I mean, who is this for? It obviously can't be for your kid's benefit if their happiness is secondary to getting the picture taken. If it's for you, why do you want it that badly? Why would you want a picture of your kid when he or she is upset?

Once I became a parent, I totally went against all this. When we took Logan to see Santa Claus, he cried, and I punched him in the face (while wearing brass knuckles) until he finally relented and sat on Santa's lap.

Okay, hold your calls to C.P.S. I'm kidding. Logan was excited to see Santa, and he talked old St. Nick's ear off. It wasn't even an issue. But man, I had those brass knuckles ready.

Put down the phone. In all seriousness, the wifey and I went in with a game plan. We figured that if he started to cry or panic, then it just wasn't worth it, and we wouldn't make him. After all, so many everyday things become major dramatic tragedies when you're with a toddler as it is. Why would you want to add another incident to the things that are leading up to your inevitable heart attack?

This worked out nicely when he was two, and he was even more eager when he was three.

However...

At my local comic book store, there was a photo opportunity with Spider-Man and The Black Cat around Christmas time. When we talked to Logan about it, he was pretty excited. However, when we got there, he wanted nothing to do with them. The two superheroes were really awesome and even got on their knees to talk to him, but he just wasn't having it.

Enter: the brass knuckles.

Come on now. Put the phone away. Put it on the other side of the room. Just stop.

Luckily, there wasn't a huge crowd, so I went for a walk with him. Ultimately, we decided that if he wasn't going to get his picture taken with Spidey and his femme fatale sidekick, then the two of us would pose for one. Still, we weren't in a hurry. When we came back in the store, Logan started to warm up to the two of them - especially The Black Cat. Finally, it was time to make a decision, and we told Logan that we were going to get our picture taken, and he could join us or not. As you can tell from the photo above, he chose to join in with us.

Would it have been a bummer if we didn't get our son in the picture with us? Yes. Would it have been the end of the world? No.

I've spoken with some parents who told me about how they did it with their kids. They said that they were determined to have their kids pose with Santa no matter how much they cried. If I live to be a billion, I will never understand this.

And please, I'm not trying to say that if you do this that you're some kind of horrible, abusive parent. (Although I wouldn't be surprised if I get at least one comment where somebody accuses me of saying this - despite this disclaimer. My posts seem to attract strawmen like crap draws flies.) I'm just saying that I can't even begin to approach your thought process. It's not like we're talking about vaccinations here - it's a frikken' picture with Santa. Even if your kids don't want to do it one year, they will probably be more receptive to it the following year. Kids grow fast, sure, but they are kids for more than a year.

Or is there some sort of college requirement where you need to submit a photo of yourself when you were two years old sitting on Santa's lap, and I'm just not aware of it?

Is comfort from religion worth it?

One of the most common defenses of religion is that it "provides comfort". This defense usually comes from those who are nonbelievers or only nominally religious themselves. I've heard Jon Stewart make this defense a few times on The Daily Show, and I've heard it from some of my friends who are fellow atheists. It's not a defense that should be dismissed out of hand, but I think that it demands a little bit of scrutiny.

To elaborate on why I don't think that we should completely dismiss this line of reasoning is that it's unarguable that religious faith has taken people out of some pretty dark places. I know more than a few people (some still religious, some not) who were into all kinds of bad behaviors until religious faith helped them to lead more productive lives. Sure, you can say that they traded one "opiate" for another, but let's be honest - some opiates are worse than others. For instance, if you found out that your kid had gone from smoking crack every day to drinking eight cups of coffee a day, you might not be okay with it, but your concern would dramatically decrease. So yes, religion provides comfort, and sometimes it's a much-needed comfort.

My problem, however, is that this defense completely bypasses what I feel is a very important question:

Are these beliefs true or not? Ultimately, if you place "comfort" as the primary defense of religion, the implication is that it's okay to believe things that are untrue just so long as they provide some comfort. I'm not really interested in going into the truth claims of religion on this post (because that's another topic all together) but I wanted to at least throw that out there as some food for thought.

Another problem I have is that this defense, especially when given by a nonbeliever, borders on being really condescending. It's as if they're talking about believers like they're children with pacifiers in their mouths. "Oh no! This person is so delicate that you'd better not risk discussing things like critical thinking and the scientific method around them! If he loses his belief, he'll wilt like a delicate little flower!"

Let's get this out of the way before I go further - I don't think that there's anything that I (or anybody else) can make a believer abandon their beliefs. People change their minds for their own reasons. At best, a nonbeliever can introduce ideas that might lead to them changing their beliefs, but they'll only do so when and if they're ready to. So please, let's not let this devolve into "You're trying to take away people's beliefs!" I've had that accusation thrown at me before, and while it's almost flattering to attribute that much power to me, I don't have the ability to take away beliefs. If trying to educate people on critical thinking skills and the scientific method is somehow "proselytizing" or "evangelizing" then so is teaching people that 2+2=4.

My next issue with the comfort defense is that it often provides comfort from problems that religion introduces in the first place. I already touched on this in my last post, but my reasoning basically goes as follows: Yes, the belief that you're going to heaven may provide you with some comfort, but if you didn't believe in an immortal soul in the first place (not to mention the possibility of burning forever in Hell) then you wouldn't need this comfort. There are other examples I could give, but I trust that you get the point.

This, of course, leads us to an even bigger problem: sometimes religion provides the opposite of comfort. Again, I touched on this in my last post, but a fear of Hell - whether it be for you or your loved ones - is not comforting. Also, if you're gay, there's everything from the extreme of "God hates fags" to "hate the sin, love the sinner" - which isn't much better. "Hey! God loves you! But if you want to have a relationship that satisfies your sexual desires, he hates that." Plus, I never found much comfort in the thought that there was a God who was CONSTANTLY watching me and reading my every thought. Some of my thoughts aren't pretty, and I shouldn't have to feel bad for every one of them, especially when I don't have any desire to act out on the worse ones. Let's also not forget the fact that religion doesn't just unite, but it also divides, and many nonbelievers feel the need to pretend that they do believe so they're not ostracized by their families.

The flip side to all of this is that a life of skepticism has led many people to a sense of comfort as well. Obviously, abandoning the fears that are inherent in many religious beliefs is like tossing a huge weight off of your head. Plus, there isn't any need to struggle with why bad things happen to good people. When you believe in a God - especially one that's supposed to be all-good - there is no completely satisfactory answer as to why He'll allow that. When you have no belief in a god, then it simply makes sense that it happens. It's tragic and it's awful, but you're not trying to ram the square peg of loving omnipotence with the cruel realities of life. In other words, getting rid of cognitive dissonance is a huge relief.

The only thing where I see that religion has the clear edge when it comes to comfort is the sense of community that it brings. I know many nonbelievers who wish that they still had that in their lives. While they cannot reconcile their beliefs with what was being taught, they do miss the camaraderie that they once had. There are some people, mainly those who are more introverted, who never got much out of church even when they were believers, so becoming nonbelievers doesn't involve much of a sacrifice for them. (In fact, for people like that, it must be a relief to not only not have to go to church, but to not feel guilty about not going.) This seems to be changing though as the rate of nonbelievers is rising, and folks like Jerry DeWitt are actively working toward rectifying that situation. So, this might not be an advantage for religion much longer.

I'll end this with a little anecdote which relates to one of my earlier points. Recently, my wife and I were talking with a person who was telling us all about a great book she had read - Proof of Heaven. If you haven't heard of it, it's a book by a doctor who claims that his near-death experience provided "proof" of the afterlife. Of course, the big selling point to that book is that he's a former "skeptic" but then his personal experience changed his mind. (Of course, true skeptics don't give that much credence to personal experiences - even their own.) She also said that she was looking forward to Heaven is for Real - the movie based on a "true story" of a four year old who almost died and saw a white Jesus.

I imagine that people who know me primarily through Facebook and my blog probably thought that I immediately went into a rant about specious the claims of both of these true stories are, and how totally debunked the stories are.

No, I didn't do that. I just smiled and nodded. This might have had to do with the fact that we were going to go see the new Captain America movie, and I didn't want to be late. Even without that though, I find conversations to be exhausting, and I didn't have the strength for it.

The thing that really hit me is that she pointed out how she's getting on in years, and that she was glad to know that she was going to go to someplace good when she passes. In other words, these stories of complete bullcrap were providing her with comfort. I guess that's fine, and maybe it's not causing her any harm.

But I don't believe in a soul, so I don't even have any worry about what happens when I die. Just like others before me, I figure that it will be similar to how it was before I was born. That wasn't so bad. And honestly, even a wonderful heaven sounds horrible when I know that it's for ETERNITY. I'm not sure how infinity is a comforting thought to anybody, to be honest.

So yeah, religion provides comfort. There's no arguing that. But is it worth it? That's another question.

Religious indoctrination and child abuse

Want to know a good way to get people on the defensive? Accuse them of abusing their children. Even if they keep their kid locked in a dungeon and feed them nothing but broken glass, they'll insist that under absolutely no conditions are they being abusive.

A frequent accusation lobbed at religion by certain atheists is that indoctrinating children with religious beliefs is a form of child abuse. Richard Dawkins has drawn a lot of criticism for making this accusation. Now, I'm not interested in defending or criticizing Dawkins one way or the other so much as I'm interested in exploring the question on my own.

So, is religious indoctrination child abuse?

It's certainly a loaded question, isn't it? When most people think of abuse, they think of physical beatings, sexual molestation, and inflicting mental anguish. When religious people think of their beliefs, they think of an important part of their lives, something that brings them a certain amount of meaning, joy, and perhaps even comfort. Lumping it in the same category as what we traditionally think of abuse isn't likely to get much consideration, as it sounds absolutely absurd and potentially insulting at face value.

Another part of the problem is that not all religions are the same, and they don't all teach the same things. Also, different people react in different ways to certain religious teachings (more on that later). Adding to this is that "abuse" is a pretty broad term. I'm sure that we all inflict some sort of abuse on our children in some way or the other. I completely flipped out in front of my son one time while going on a walk. I completely lost it, and I was yelling and screaming. Is that abuse? Well, it certainly wasn't good for him. I don't think that puts me in the same category as a habitual mental abuser, but it's certainly not the kind of thing I'd ever want to do again. (It's been over a year without an incident - I think I learned my lesson.)

So, taking these two things in mind, here's the question once again:

Is religious indoctrination child abuse?

Not necessarily, but it certainly can be.

Let's get some of the obvious examples out of the way first, where I'm sure that even most religious people will agree with me that these examples are clearly examples of abuse that was empowered and inspired by religious teachings. We have people who take the "spare the rod, spoil the child" doctrine too far and inflict severe bodily punishment on their children, and they feel justified by this because it's supposedly what God wants. Also, you have people who refuse medical care for their children so they can pray instead.

Slightly less extreme than that, but where I might find still find some agreement among religious people are religious groups that shun those who don't live up to their standards. Ostracizing and/or kicking a kid out of the house because he or she is gay, for instance, is definitely a form of abuse. (And yes, I realize that there are nonreligious people who treat gay people with cruelty as well. I'm talking about those who do it and then use their Bibles to justify it.)

Now, where I'm probably going to find some more disagreement is with my next point, but I feel pretty confident when it comes to the following statement: teaching your kids that they will go to hell for not believing the right thing is a form of abuse. As I said above, different people react to religious teachings in different ways. Some people are able to compartmentalize and not give that idea too much thought - and who can blame them? Eternal agony? Who wants to think about that?

Unfortunately, some people can not push those thoughts out of their head. They get obsessive about it, and they agonize over it. I had an online conversation with a young man not too long ago where he told me that he frequently worries about going to hell (and his loved ones going there). In other words, teaching them about hell is giving them something to worry about.

Oh, but Lance, Hell is real!

If that's your reaction, then my response is: you had better damn well prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt before you teach that to your kids. Just saying it's your belief/faith isn't good enough.

I think that we'd all agree that it would be pretty awful if you taught your kids that there were werewolves out there who would eat them up if they didn't brush their teeth thoroughly. Imagine some poor kid lying awake at night, wondering if he did a good enough of a job so he won't be devoured by a ferocious beast. In other words, it's abusive to make your kids fearful of things that don't exist, and if you're going to teach them about hell, the burden of proof is on you to prove that it exists. Otherwise, I stand by my statement: teaching your kids that they will go to hell for not believing the same thing as you is abusive. It robs from them their very right to view the world as they see it, and it causes all kinds of anxiety. Even if they're true believers, they might still agonize over what happens to their loved ones.

Along with that, I also feel that it is abusive to teach your kids that there are evil spirits/demons/the Devil out there ready to try and cause all kinds of havoc on their lives. I was lucky enough to not be raised with the hell thing, but I was taught about demons. Again, some people are able to give this little thought. As for myself, I had (still have) a very active imagination, and I was terrified of every random noise that I'd hear at night. I don't think that was the intent of my parents when I learned about demons, but that's the result. 

The tragically ironic thing about this is that people will defend this by telling stories about how their faith helps them when it comes to dealing with demons. I believe that I've related this before, but I once  had a conversation with a woman who told me that a demon appeared before her and her three-year-old son in the form of a giant spider. Her son was panicky, and after holding him and praying over him, he calmed down. This was her proof of how prayer makes things better. What she didn't seem to understand was that it was her very faith that created the problem in the first place. My son doesn't see giant demon spiders, so I never have to pray over him to chill him out. Don't get me wrong - he's three. He sees all kinds of things. The last time we had thunder and lightning, he insisted that Thor was outside and wanted to invite him in. 

Okay - the Thor thing was due to my suggestion. He was scared of the sound of thunder, and so I told him that it was Thor. Before you want to call me a hypocrite though, let me point out three important things:

1. Thunder and lightning are demonstrably real.

2. He stopped being scared immediately. Sure, he got so excited that he didn't want to go to sleep, but the point is that it made him feel better.

3. This also shows why I'm not willing to make a blanket statement that religion IS child abuse. Sure, I don't actually believe in Thor, and when my son gets older, I'll explain what thunder and lightning actually is and that Thor is just a character from mythology/comic books (but I'll probably point out that people actually did believe in him at one time). In other words, a magical explanation for something isn't necessarily harmful, and it might even help in certain situations.

Just like with Hell, I'm sure that there are some folks out there who insist that demons are real. To them, I say the same thing: prove it.

So there you have it. Religious indoctrination isn't necessarily child abuse, but it sure has some features to it that lend itself to it. I'm sure that there are some people who might get all bent out of shape with this. (See my first paragraph about how it instantly puts people on the defensive.) As always, I'm willing to change my mind, but if you're going to convince me that the hell/demon thing isn't a form of abuse, then you have to convince me of at least one of the following:

1. Teaching kids to fear nonexistent things isn't a form of mental abuse.

2. There is evidence for hell and/or demons. Please, do not submit your personal anecdotes. I want verifiable evidence.