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"dawkins" poems
***I really like Christmas It's sentimental, I know, but I just really like it I am hardly religious I'd rather break bread with Dawkins than Desmond Tutu, to be honest And yes, I have all of the usual objections To consumerism, the commercialisation of an ancient religion To the westernisation of a dead Palestinian Press-ganged into selling Playstations and beer But I still really like it I'm looking forward to Christmas Though I'm not expecting a visit from Jesus I'll be seeing my dad My brother and sisters, my gran and my mum They'll be drinking white wine in the sun I'll be seeing my dad My brother and sisters, my gran and my mum They'll be drinking white wine in the sun I don't go in for ancient wisdom I don't believe just 'cos ideas are tenacious it means they are worthy I get freaked out by churches Some of the hymns that they sing have nice chords but the lyrics are dodgy And yes I have all of the usual objections To the miseducation of children who, in tax-exempt institutions, Are taught to externalise blame And to feel ashamed and to judge things as plain right and wrong But I quite like the songs I'm not expecting big presents The old combination of socks, jocks and chocolate is just fine by me Cos I'll be seeing my dad My brother and sisters, my gran and my mum They'll be drinking white wine in the sun I'll be seeing my dad My brother and sisters, my gran and my mum They'll be drinking white wine in the sun*** **And you, my baby girl My jetlagged infant daughter You'll be handed round the room Like a puppy at a primary school And you won't understand But you will learn someday That wherever you are and whatever you face These are the people who'll make you feel safe in this world My sweet blue-eyed girl And if, my baby girl When you're twenty-one or thirty-one And Christmas comes around And you find yourself nine thousand miles from home You'll know what ever comes Your brother and sisters and me and your Mum Will be waiting for you in the sun Whenever you come Your brothers and sisters, your aunts and your uncles Your grandparents, cousins and me and your mum We'll be waiting for you in the sun Drinking white wine in the sun Darling, when Christmas comes We'll be waiting for you in the sun Drinking white wine in the sun Waiting for you in the sun Waiting for you... Waiting...** ***I really like Christmas It's sentimental, I know...***
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Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 12:33 PM UTC
~White Wine In The Sun ~~Tim Minchin -lyrics
***I really like Christmas It's sentimental, I know, but I just really like it I am hardly religious I'd rather break bread with Dawkins than Desmond Tutu, to be honest And yes, I have all of the usual objections To consumerism, the commercialisation of an ancient religion To the westernisation of a dead Palestinian Press-ganged into selling Playstations and beer But I still really like it I'm looking forward to Christmas Though I'm not expecting a visit from Jesus I'll be seeing my dad My brother and sisters, my gran and my mum They'll be drinking white wine in the sun I'll be seeing my dad My brother and sisters, my gran and my mum They'll be drinking white wine in the sun I don't go in for ancient wisdom I don't believe just 'cos ideas are tenacious it means they are worthy I get freaked out by churches Some of the hymns that they sing have nice chords but the lyrics are dodgy And yes I have all of the usual objections To the miseducation of children who, in tax-exempt institutions, Are taught to externalise blame And to feel ashamed and to judge things as plain right and wrong But I quite like the songs I'm not expecting big presents The old combination of socks, jocks and chocolate is just fine by me Cos I'll be seeing my dad My brother and sisters, my gran and my mum They'll be drinking white wine in the sun I'll be seeing my dad My brother and sisters, my gran and my mum They'll be drinking white wine in the sun*** **And you, my baby girl My jetlagged infant daughter You'll be handed round the room Like a puppy at a primary school And you won't understand But you will learn someday That wherever you are and whatever you face These are the people who'll make you feel safe in this world My sweet blue-eyed girl And if, my baby girl When you're twenty-one or thirty-one And Christmas comes around And you find yourself nine thousand miles from home You'll know what ever comes Your brother and sisters and me and your Mum Will be waiting for you in the sun Whenever you come Your brothers and sisters, your aunts and your uncles Your grandparents, cousins and me and your mum We'll be waiting for you in the sun Drinking white wine in the sun Darling, when Christmas comes We'll be waiting for you in the sun Drinking white wine in the sun Waiting for you in the sun Waiting for you... Waiting...** ***I really like Christmas It's sentimental, I know...***
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63
baby boomers' education was creative back then everyone was so imaginative considering the economy was inactive our perspective isn't the perceptive. we were made from the earth's clay from our mother's conception day into the world we millennials came treated by parents like we are so lame. our technology is more advanced millennials are so very benevolent i guess it is such a bad expectation s/o to my ***** Richard Dawkins. they say back then we called friends we say today we text friends they say gas was worth 35¢ a gallon we say gas is worth $3.35¢ a gallon. they say we had black and white tvs we say ****** we got colored tvs but there is a paradigm masterpiece it just makes you stand to your feet. considering our generation escapades theirs created the existence of AIDS now we millennials are not to blame that is what made their time so lame.
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Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 7:22 PM UTC
Comparison Poem of the Baby Boomers to the Baby Boomlets
Gospel truth. Obsession. Structure. Assumption. Life path, revelation? Bokonon, redaction! Creator. Nature. Existence? .....Relevance? What about peace? What about it? That passeth understanding? Precisely. Oxymoron. Reason, confusion. Religion, delusion. Footnote, background, legend: Small candle: beautiful shrine. Put it out, darkness and grime.
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Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 6:30 PM UTC
Dawkins vs. Mr X
Is humanism Utopian? You really have to think about it. Or is it rather more dystopian? No, then I think you’d never doubt it. It seems that disbelief is best. Humanism owes a debt to thinkers of the Enlightenment, although I haven’t paid it yet, I think of it as my entitlement to settle it at some behest. I very early cleared my mind of Kant, experiencing a vast relief, approaching his chef d’oeuvres extant; removing knowledge to allow belief; the opposite of what he had expressed. It occurred to me I ought to dig up (or should I say instead ex-hume?) what constitutes at least an egg-cup- full of wisdom that I might consume with non-platonic zest. But wondering how on earth to do so and thinking he might hold the key, I fixed my sights on Jean Jacques Rousseau and set sail for my destiny, while trying not to feel depressed. Voltaire’s voices loudly rang in deaf ears as did the Persian Letters of Montesquieu and failed to still my latent fears. And thus I felt no need to rescue Adam Smith (morality-obsessed). To put Descartes before the Horse- men of the Apocalypse War, famine, pestilence and worse. Who could guess it would eclipse my thought, wherefore I was oppressed. Or take the case of Denis Diderot a friend of Hume and others seedier. and one you might consider so rash as to produce an encyclopedia to get his knowledge off his chest. That precious quality of truth was Mary Ann’s# description of it. It would not take a Sherlock sleuth to simply thus produce a conviction of it: an elementary request. I cut my questing teeth on Russell. His secular logic had a profound effect and seemed to stir each red corpuscle inhabiting this fervid non-sect- arian but doubting breast. I later turned my eye on Dawkins, and his concern with my divine delusion. A sceptic whose inspiring squawkings validate my disillusion and emphasise an ill-starred quest. And so I felt the pointlessness of it. Progress is the best end for a man to see And belief simply produced less profit for reality’s dispelling of my fantasy. So, in the end, I acquiesced. #Mary Ann Evans, aka George Eliot, in Adam Bede
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Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 10:21 AM UTC
NUMINOSITY (OR HUMANISM OWES A DEBT TO THE ENLIGHTENMENT)
Is humanism Utopian? You really have to think about it. Or is it rather more dystopian? No, then I think you’d never doubt it. It seems that disbelief is best. Humanism owes a debt to thinkers of the Enlightenment, although I haven’t paid it yet, I think of it as my entitlement to settle it at some behest. I very early cleared my mind of Kant, experiencing a vast relief, approaching his chef d’oeuvres extant; removing knowledge to allow belief; the opposite of what he had expressed. It occurred to me I ought to dig up (or should I say instead ex-hume?) what constitutes at least an egg-cup- full of wisdom that I might consume with non-platonic zest. But wondering how on earth to do so and thinking he might hold the key, I fixed my sights on Jean Jacques Rousseau and set sail for my destiny, while trying not to feel depressed. Voltaire’s voices loudly rang in deaf ears as did the Persian Letters of Montesquieu and failed to still my latent fears. And thus I felt no need to rescue Adam Smith (morality-obsessed). To put Descartes before the Horse- men of the Apocalypse War, famine, pestilence and worse. Who could guess it would eclipse my thought, wherefore I was oppressed. Or take the case of Denis Diderot a friend of Hume and others seedier. and one you might consider so rash as to produce an encyclopedia to get his knowledge off his chest. That precious quality of truth was Mary Ann’s# description of it. It would not take a Sherlock sleuth to simply thus produce a conviction of it: an elementary request. I cut my questing teeth on Russell. His secular logic had a profound effect and seemed to stir each red corpuscle inhabiting this fervid non-sect- arian but doubting breast. I later turned my eye on Dawkins, and his concern with my divine delusion. A sceptic whose inspiring squawkings validate my disillusion and emphasise an ill-starred quest. And so I felt the pointlessness of it. Progress is the best end for a man to see And belief simply produced less profit for reality’s dispelling of my fantasy. So, in the end, I acquiesced. #Mary Ann Evans, aka George Eliot, in Adam Bede
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61
1 *Tap, tap, tap Pinch and expand Pinch and expand Tap, tap, tap* I love this dance you do my dearies, each one of you on your mobiles and devices We too play with our fingers and keep our eyes fixed on your pockets and purses and wallets *Tap, tap, tap Pinch and expand Pinch and expand Tap, tap, tap* Stay diverted - we love this what you do, me Fagin and all me children and Jack Dawkins too, that Artful Dodger 2 Come on, dear children of Fagin mine this here is Paradise All these people with eyes and fingers on their devices and brains in idle mode in these crowded malls - it’s our Paradise, dear babies mine Whilst they are so preoccupied let’s to our devices And we can pick, pick, pick whilst they tap, tap, tap 3 Ah ha, keep tapping on your mobiles each one of you, my dearies with your eyes on the mobile when at the shops and in crowds and at new year celebrations Keep your eyes there, indeed each one of you, my dearies Tap, tap, tap pinch and expand with 2 fingers on the screen eyes mostly there on your devices *Tap, tap, tap pinch, pinch, pinch* and let your two fingers burst like shooting stars All like a dance, as in a dance each one of you in public spaces, my dearies so do the merry dance of your fingers and eyes on the devices And we? We love this, me Fagin and all me children and Jack Dawkins too (that Artful Dodger) while You tap, tap, tap and we pick, pick, pick at this our harvest at shopping malls
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Dec 29, 2012
Dec 29, 2012 at 8:35 PM UTC
keep tapping on your mobiles, Fagin loves it
Like a viser I advise that you finally find your eyes Peaked and bordered by a toque the  sun cant stop to shine Yet light obliviates eyeballs well adjusted to the rain Can make the same eyeballs rise to re-perceive again In this corporate quest investment is on par with love Always carrying cash like a box of rubber gloves Defend against the right to starve and strangle on the street Gain the right to put a diamond right above my seat Altercations alter authors read atop the altar The Council of Nicaea building progress not to falter Piling future thought like a towered Jenga game Is funny *** it's true to say the atheists are the same. Preachy ******** carrying Richard Dawkins in one hand Sapping all that's holy from a gold block into sand Crying because life is now a fight or flight response A nihilist is just another  ****** fanatic **** A nihilist is the strangest A suicide bomber using words Making sure you understand it's worthless and it burns Bombing every holy site stacked deep inside your brain Proving that within this life you've got nothing to gain He pretends you come from blank and end up there again Forgetting that's impossible, Hypothetically insane. If we came from nothing, return to nothing Where's all this from, then? Nothing can't exist by implication, but we can? When I say that everything is nothing What I mean: Is nothing is the everything that we all can clearly see.
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Feb 9, 2013
Feb 9, 2013 at 3:27 PM UTC
The Angry Dance of the Tao Te Ching
*life can overwhelm our brains soon stall overloaded with that confusion out there.. changes and edges these matter most.. in natural selection differences do rule.. patterns repeating must be discarded same old sameness.. survival succeeds his elegant view.. thus a long chapter bringing this day.. has time now arrived to finally meet those patterns of old..? patterns most humble enfolding of change.. fiercely holistic and formed as images in many dimensions.. their sharp message: sorry.. without us nothing would be...*
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Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 9:19 PM UTC
Mr. Dawkins' vessel
If Dawkins were right And faith is a farce A human construct If Nietzsche were right And man has outgrown God As a child outgrows his toy Then all this Hemming And Hawing Would have all been in vain All ****** folly And this time could have been put To better use Courting you And we would be So very happy Together. ~ Yet if the scriptures were right And we are spirits made flesh Having appointments with divine destiny Then you are but a thought A temptation Testing me An exaltation against His knowledge. A boon you are not But a bane. And I am to nail it all To the foot of the cross Just as how I am to nail my flesh, My sinful nature, To this altar. And in Him Shall I find all-transcendent peace. For putting the Kingdom first, Shall I receive His best. ~ That is, If.
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Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 6:01 AM UTC
If
I guess was stalking Stephen Hawking, a digital wonder when he starts talking speakers squawking out more brilliance then a million of those treasure troll jelly roll spitting skoal racist rednecks. Chased down Bill Nye the super sonic science Guy cause I hoped he could help me learn why creationist and politicians get so far by telling lies. Sat next to Richard Dawkins who left me gawking. Never saw a scientist so perfectly British with his “Selfish Genes” questioning everyone’s “God Delusion.” And Neil De Grass Tyson was on the radio splicing science with pop culture, making “Star Talk” podcasts that are trying to bring back scientific literacy before our society actually becomes The movie “Idiocracy.”
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Oct 5, 2016
Oct 5, 2016 at 6:22 AM UTC
My Science Heroes
I watched a show by Richard Dawkins, (I love my atheistic squawkin's) and he observed how we've improved the more religion's been removed. Now, there's no greater fan than me of love and peace and harmony but soon these thoughts will just seem trippy like skinheads listening to a hippy, 'cause he got old and he forgot the little fact we overshot and he forgot that life grows cheap at times the clover isn't deep. Such harmony will never do with ten to feed and food for two and bigotry's more suited for survival in the resource war. The dark ages, we find, are not renowned for gentleness of thought; your attitudes may shift, perhaps; recall the war; recall the **** and dogma helps you stay the course. Religion's coming back in force.
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Oct 13, 2016
Oct 13, 2016 at 8:02 AM UTC
Squawk
the godless Dawkins The Professor Richard Dawkins had stroke which made him say when feeling better: “There are things we will never know.” I think his sudden revelation or insight is gratifying. For those who do not know the professor he has written books about anti-god and made fun of those who do believe in a religion God is an abstract figure which I knew when nine years of age it is easy to laugh at vicars and women wearing crosses, but for me the subject of god is boring
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Oct 4, 2016
Oct 4, 2016 at 9:03 AM UTC
the godless professor dwakins