Every Day is an Atheist Holiday!

performance artist. It sets off the metal detector and then you look the TSA person in the eye and say, “Here take my rights” and hand them the metal Bill of Rights. I’ve had a lot taken away from me, but I always replace it so I have those words with me. But I didn’t move here because I believed in the ideals of this country. I didn’t move here at all. I was born down in this dead man’s town; I was born in the USA. Born in the USA. When the real patriots broke from England, there were real philosophical reasons, but would I agree with them now? If England had won our revolutionary war, would they have freed all the slaves? We won a war that was, among many other things, a war to keep slavery. I believe in the free market, but there’s no free market here. We have government entitlements on one side, and crony capitalism on the other; it’s all just using the government to move money around. We wouldn’t know a real free market if the lowest bidder bit us in our ass. There’s no real separation of church and state. Obama brags that he prays about the decisions he makes in the White House. We have bloody wars against common nouns—drugs, poverty and terrorism.

I imagine two asshole Indian magicians coming to the USA to see the magic done for locals. I imagine them staying in five-star hotels and going to our worst slums, looking for the “Cups and Balls” in Appalachia. I don’t even know where the worst poverty in the USA is, but it’s certainly in every city. I just don’t go there. I think about some smart-ass who can’t pronounce the word “hello” after a week of practice in his bus, freaking out that we still have the death penalty and kill people who kill. I think about the culture shock of walking into a casino where we do our shows and seeing people pissing in their pants while waiting for the slot machine to pay off and get them back to even. I think about our Indian Penn & Teller pouring sanitizer over their hands and eating canned curry (I know that’s an English invention, and just makes my point even stronger). I go back and read what I wrote about Egypt, China and India, and it sure seems like it was written by an asshole. Maybe the Canadian producers were right about Americans not understanding. Maybe there is a difference between racial pride and racism, which I just can’t see. Maybe I am a white devil.

Richard Dawkins makes the argument that if religion were true, it wouldn’t be geographically determined. People tend to follow the religion they were born into. That’s not true of scientific theories. There never really were speed-of-light pockets. I hear Christians make arguments for how Christianity is true, but it’s hard not to just hear them saying that they believe it because they were born into it.

When we do our bit that turns flag burning into flag waving, what are we really celebrating? When I take my children to eat hot dogs and hamburgers and watch the fireworks, what do I teach them about the country of their birth? Is it just their birthplace, or did they just happen to be born into a really good idea.

I don’t know.

Maybe we’re just celebrating that we don’t have those fucking bears.

Listening to: “Born in the U.S.A.”—Bruce Springsteen

MY SON’S MORALITY DOES NOT COME FROM GOD

THERE WAS A BIG ATHEIST SHINDIG IN WASHINGTON, D.C., IN 2011. There were about 20,000 people on the mall getting together in the rain to be recognized as atheists. I wanted to be there, but I was contracted to do a magic show in Vegas that day. I couldn’t get there, but I sent a video and made a few jokes.

Atheists will not have their Stonewall riots. Unfortunately, gays needed to riot. There were draconian laws preventing them from just living their lives. They were attacked and beaten. They were killed. They are still oppressed by the government. Obama “evolved” to the point that he thinks he feels okay about people loving each other, but not okay enough to help them get the freedom to do that. There are comparisons between gays in the sixties and atheists today, but we have to be careful not to exaggerate those comparisons. Yes, gays and atheists are pitied, shunned and insulted. There are some awful stories of atheists being beaten up in the USA, but I think many fewer than gays. Twentieth-century atheist pioneer Madalyn Murray O’Hair was put on the cover of Life magazine as “The Most Hated Woman in America.” Ms. O’Hair’s family was beaten and some very bad things happened to her directly as a result of her lack of belief. It’s possible the worst things that happened to Madalyn (kidnapping and murder) had nothing to do with her atheism, but she might have gotten more help if she had been a believer. Atheists lose jobs and too often lose the love of their whole families when they come out of that huge benighted closet.

I’m afraid that the main reason I’m proud to be an American is that I was born here. That’s the way that our tribal shit is wired, and it’s hard to fight. But there are things I like about the USA apart from the built-in patriotism. I love “Yankee Doodle.” I love that the British made up a song to make fun of the American rubes with their bad wigs and bumpkin ways, and the asshole Americans adopted it as their fight song and sang it while kicking ass. One of the most successful businesses in my hometown area of Massachusetts is Yankee Candle, and there are books of Yankee wisdom in all the gift shops. “Yankee” began as an insult for all Americans and ended up an insult for New Englanders, but we all use it with pride.

I’m a little bummed by the word “gay” for gay. If I had been in charge of the gay movement they would have done it more “Yankee Doodle” style. Of course if I were in charge of the gay movement, we’d be listening to Sun Ra instead of Lady Gaga and we’d have way worse haircuts.

If I had my way, we would be using “queer” (not “fag” because it excludes women) or even “homo.” I love when those words are used with pride. Let them name you with hate, and come back with love. I’d be a homosexual infidel before I’d be a gay bright. I gave a very small amount of jingle to the “brights.” They were trying to find a term to make atheists a more marketable brand. “Bright” seems as good as “gay,” but it didn’t catch on. You can argue that “gay” doesn’t really work either. “Gay” is now used as a negative term that doesn’t quite mean “homosexual” but is close enough to be creepy and bum my shit. “Atheist” is like “homosexual” and I like that more. It’s the term I like the most. I way don’t like any of the “humanist” names for atheists; it’s like if gays tried to pretend that sex wasn’t really part of who they are. We atheists don’t only love humans, we also don’t want religion. I would love to adopt “heathen” or “infidel” and say them with pride. I’d love to call myself a “Yankee Heathen,” more than an “American Bright.” But “heathen” and “infidel” in this country are a little too goofy.

Madalyn Murray O’Hair went with “American Atheist,” so I’ll go with her. O’Hair sure was nutty, but I’m okay with her as our leader. Atheists have always been a little ahead of the curve on feminism. In a list of the superstars of modern atheism, you have Ayn Rand, Madalyn Murray O’Hair, and Ayaan Hirsi Ali right at the top. So much of the oppression of women comes from religion, so that shouldn’t be a surprise, but it’s still something we godless heathen infidels can be proud of.

My son was born May 22, 2006. Since the birth of my Moxie and Zz, it takes all my willpower to write and talk about anything other than my children. Every word they speak, everything they do, seems to cry out to be recorded and shared, but I try to leave my camera and my notes in another room. An unexamined life is not worth living, but an electronically recorded life is not lived at all.

Zolten Penn Jillette took his first steps walking toward the porn star Nina Hartley. She was visiting our home and Zz was just under a year old. His standing was still wobbly, but as Nina and I sat talking on the couch, Zz pulled himself up and toddled over to her arms. When Moxie was one, Bob Dylan let her bang on his keyboard and lick his guitar. Our children have privileged lives.

When Zz was about two, he was playing by himself one day as I sat on the other side of the room, reading or something. I don’t know where Mox was. Because our children are eleven months apart and best friends (for now), they’re always together, but for some reason Mox and Emily were out of the room. At least that’s the way I remember it now. It’s possible I wasn’t even there and my wife witnessed it and told me about it, but when I hear a great story, my memory often puts me in the middle of the scene.

The way I remember it, Zz was playing quietly by himself and I was reading on the other side of the room. He was oblivious to me. He tried to grab something with his teeth and instead must have bitten his own arm. There are coordination issues at that age. Zz’s bite hurt him a little. He made a distress sound, which got my attention and then he said to himself, “No biting. Time-out.” He put down the toys, stopped playing and walked across the room. He stood, sadly and quietly, in the corner for a couple of minutes and then said, “Okay,” walked back to the center of the room, got happy, picked up his toys and went back to playing.

My son was perpetrator, victim, witness, police, prosecutor, jury, judge, jailer, parole board, and rehabilitated