The Sale

Yesterday was a bit of a suck day.  In the early morning, while I was doing the milking, Dave was down in the back pasture with a back-hoe guy helping him dig Georgia’s grave.

Right after that, Dave went to pick up a new little piglet.

Isn’t her tail cute?

Piglets are sort of adorable.  Like baby calves.

Here she is, exploring her new digs, with “dig” being a very appropriate word.  We leave a lot of weedy growth in the pig pen for a new pig. They soon root it all away and they enjoy the hell out of doing so.

But notice the open places at the back of her little hut?  You can just barely see that there is woven wire fencing behind there. The area beyond there is our big pasture.

She explored. And she explored. And she found those open places, and she pushed right through and under the fencing and Dave came out and found her having a fine time in the pasture.

It was hot yesterday and sunny and humid.  Just the ideal time to be running around a pasture trying to drive an errant pig back into her pen.

By the time we’d finished playing Capture the Pig, we were both in a fine humor.

You can see her, barely, lying in the little hut.  She was exhausted after her wild adventure.  So were we.  And you can see where Dave nauglered up the little house.

So all was well and I went to the house to prepare some dinner.

And then we had the visit.

A man came by to pick up a farm implement that we were selling.  He’d called ahead and we knew he was coming, but Dave finally had to go meet him and bring him to the house. This is nice, actually, because even people with GPS systems have trouble finding our place, but it still meant that Dave had to go meet the guy.

He brought his wife and small daughter with him.

I came out to the barn because I thought maybe they’d need as many hands as possible to get this heavy piece of equipment onto his trailer.  I can’t lift much, but I can do a little.

We all introduced ourselves and it was all fine. I took the woman and her little girl around to look at the baby calves in their pens and the baby pig thankfully in her pen, and as the little girl petted them, the woman and I chatted.

She kept asking questions.  She’d known me about ten minutes and she was asking a whole lot of questions about where we’d lived, and what we did and stuff like that. Stuff that nobody would really be very interested in.

In the process, she mentioned that she had been widowed and that her first husband was a pastor.  She then said that the only thing her current husband and the pastor would have had in common was their “love for the Lord.”

Bingo.

It was what I’d been waiting for.

I grew up in this shit.  I know the signals.

The woman was doing something all evangelical/fundamentalist Christians feel compelled to do.

She was figuring out what box to place me in.  Where did we fit? She couldn’t continue without knowing which script to use.

This is what she was dealing with.  Supposedly, the person speaking there is Jesus.  And when Jesus gives you an order, what the hell are you supposed to do except follow it to the letter?

But see, they don’t have to “preach the gospel” to people who already believe it, so they have developed a method of figuring it all out.

They create boxes.

The main two boxes are “Saved” and “Lost.”

The Saved box has a lot of little boxes inside it labeled “Backslidden” and “Iffy” and “Methodist” and “Episcopalian, But Claims Salvation” and the like.  The Lost box is also subdivided into “Liberal Christian”  and “Catholic” and “Mormon” and “Jehovah’s Witness” and (gasp!) “Atheist.”

Each box requires a different script because each type of person supposedly needs a different message.  With a liberal Christian, they can talk about the things they believe in common (Jesus was a nice guy, faith is a good thing, where do you go to church) and go from there.  With a Mormon, it’s a little more complicated, but rest assured, there’s a script.

There is also a script for atheists but I almost never meet anyone who can remember what it is. They rarely use it because most of them have never met anyone who says right out, “I’m an atheist.”

At any rate, they put out feelers.  If the other person is in the Saved box already, that person will recognize and respond to the feelers.  For instance, when she said that her two husbands had little in common except their “love for the Lord,” my response should have been something like “Well, that’s what is important.”

Bingo.  I would have gone in the “Might Be Saved” box.

I didn’t.

So that left in my situation fraught with concern.  No box means she doesn’t know what script to use. This creates massive discomfort in these people.

The men managed to get the implement loaded without female help (amazing, I know, but true) and money exchanged hands, and then he started in.

“I don’t know where you go to church, or if you’re saved. . .”

Oh, gee whiz.

Dave responded, “We don’t do church.”

Plop.  We moved into the “Definitely Lost” box.

Definitely Lost is a PITA box to be in.  It means that they are compelled by Jesus to preach the gospel to us.  They can’t leave until they do.  I know it.  I get it.

I also tend be pretty frank.

So when I saw their obvious discomfort (people, even these idiot Christians, really don’t enjoy “soul-winning” – no sane person does), I just cut to the core of the matter.

“I am an atheist,” I said.

And plop.  We found ourselves squarely in the Atheist box and then they were in real trouble. Where do they start with an atheist?

“What happens when you die?” he asked.

In the other scripts, nearly all of them, the question is “Where will you spend eternity?”  That is the lead-in question and is followed up by something about how we’ve all “sinned.”

That doesn’t work in the atheist script because we aren’t going to spend eternity anywhere and we have never sinned.  (Sin is defined as “coming short of the glory of God.”  No God, no sin.)

He was trying to find solid ground and struggling a bit.

And then he thought he got there. He began to tell us about a road trip they took to a scenic area and how God made everything.  I demurred. He responded with “Who made the world?”

This drives me nuts.

He doesn’t know any more about how the world got here than I do.  Stephen Hawking probably knows as much as anyone, but this guy wasn’t a theoretical physicist, so I decided to stop it right there.  I was hot and tired. I was sure that Dave was hotter and tireder and we weren’t in the mood.

I replied, “Look, I was a Christian fundamentalist until I was in my mid-forties.  Our son attended a Christian school all his life except for the period when we homeschooled him and his senior year which was in public school.  I can quote lots of Bible. Wanna hear it?”

And then I started with John 1:1 (In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God), smiled and kept going.

They got the point, I think.

But then he did something I despise.  Just despise.

He explained how we have freedom of religion and how anyone can believe anything they like and how it’s all fine and dandy, but (always a but) he never severs ties with a non-believer because if he’s just nice to them, he might be able to say that one word that will help them.

Can anyone spell condescending?

I replied, “And there’s the problem.  You say you enter into a friendship, a relationship, with a person with the sole intention of changing them.”

He nodded. He knew what I meant.

Some denominations and sects take this further than others do.  One of my pastors used to actually say that no Christian should ever have a friendship with a non-believer for any reason other than to convert them.

In late October of 2004, Dave and I flew from our home in Alaska to North Carolina to visit relatives, including Nathan. We had voted absentee before leaving.

We had made arrangements, when we knew we were going to be there, to spend all day that Sunday before the election in Raleigh doing some canvassing work for MoveOn.

They gave us a list of the names and addresses of registered Democrats in a particular area and a map.  Our task was to go to each of those houses/apartments, talk with the person, and find out if they knew where to vote, if they’d made plans to get there, and if they needed transportation.

We were explicitly told that we were not to ask anyone how they planned to vote. We were to tell them that we’d gotten their name from the voter registration list and verify that they were registered as Democrats.  If they said, “No, there’s been a mistake. I am a Republican” or anything like that, we were to apologize, keep the conversation to senseless chatting and exit as rapidly as possible and go to the next name.

The whole point was to get out the Democratic vote.

We were not there to change anyone’s mind about anything. We just wanted to help Democrats vote, to remind them to vote.

There’s a correlation here.

What we did was honest.  We weren’t lying to anyone. We weren’t trying to intrude in any way.  We just verified if our information was correct, asked if they needed transportation and then moved on (!).

The people who announced that they were in the Republican box were not badgered about why they would be so stupid.  We were nice, polite, apologetic, and got the hell out of there. We didn’t try to establish some phony-baloney relationship with the sole goal of turning them into Democrats.

at dinner

This is me with Dave having dinner while on our cruise. We met a whole lot of really nice people, but one couple stood out. We spent a lot of time with them.  He is something or other with the Episcopal church and she is a retired priest.

The atheists palled all around Europe and across the Atlantic with the professional Episcopalians.

It is quite possible to have a lovely friendship with people who are very religious when you aren’t.  Really, it is.  We’ve remained in contact with that couple and would cruise again with them in a heartbeat.

But you see, neither couple cared what boxes the other folks were in. We discussed religion, of course.  It’s an integral part of their lives. Atheism is an integral part of ours.  We had some lively dinner discussions that went on far longer than they should have and that was part of the subject matter.

But there was no judgement made, on either side. We don’t care if they are religious. They don’t care if we’re not. We had fun together. We enjoyed each others’ company.

It’s not necessary to make a sale before you can establish a friendship.

 

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37 thoughts on “The Sale”

  1. I will never understand why they feel they must do this. Do they get some sort of gold star? Cash reward? An extra-big dollop of salvation at the end? It’s rude, at best. Plus, I don’t think it works that way.

    Matthew 20:1-16

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  2. And that is a beautiful illustration of the difference between what Martin Buber called the “I and Thou” relationship between humans vs the “I and It” relationship. The evangelical objectifies the other. The humanist (atheist or not,) recognizes the other as a human being, individual and sacred.

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  3. Im afraid I mess with these people a little bit…
    Not being unkind… but in my opinion they are being nosy so they don’t deserve any answer. But?
    I’ve been asked if I was “saved” and I say “certainly”. I just don’t say from what… their use of the English word ” saved” is not my use of the word “saved”….
    I’ve told the folks that want to get nosey that I believe actions speak louder than words and that people who have claimed to be saved and religious/christians have in the past gravely disappointed me (true) so I don’t worry about wether my friends are christians or not their actions speak louder than any religion…
    I’m usually left alone after that… and if they peruse it, I say I have nothing more more to say and they can’t convince me otherwise…
    Fortunately I’ve been left alone after that.
    I’ve been unfriended on Facebook “friend” once because the proselytizer didn’t like my input.?… I was arguing some stupid logic….he was a friend of a family member…? He couldn’t say I as ugly, just questioning this computer geeks evangelical logic… I guess it made him very uncomfortable.
    I do have a cousin, whom I dearly love, who is evangelical and a very active missionary. She and her husband, a devoted minister, both walk the walk. They know where I stand and have never told me I’m going to hell… especially since I think the only hell is here on earth…

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  4. We have friends who are episcopals. He is the pastor (or whatever the head guy is) at the church down the street. We’ve know them since our boys were in preschool together. They knew us when we were Mormon and now know us as atheists.

    He proceeded over the funeral of another friend who died far too young. I went to that funeral as a non-Christian. I had only been to Mormon funerals before. They always made me feel uncomfortable. Mormon funerals are used as a proselytizing opportunity. Even when I was an active temple attending member that made me feel icky.

    So I walked into this funeral already distraught. Already deeply upset. And I sat there with tears streaming down my face as this friend spoke about another friend. He spoke to the overflowing room without preaching. I’ve never known a religious man to exude love without preaching. I actually felt peace in there. I felt love and friendship and this peace. Some might say the peace was God but I know it was humanity raising above religion. There were people in that room was all faiths, not one could have felt targeted by preaching that day.

    The point of my rambling is that you can be friends despite religion. Religion doesn’t have to consume every facet of your life, it doesn’t have to turn someone into a condescending ass but sadly often it does.

    You handled those people well. You are a better woman than me. My patience for religion has grown thin.

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  5. I use the A word (atheist) because I believe strongly in being “out.” I can be out. Dave can be out. We can’t be fired. We don’t give a shit what our families (or anyone else) think.

    So we’re out. The more often these folks are compelled to deal with a real live atheist, the better.

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  6. My best friend in the world…who I talk to several times a week, see once a week…and have known for over 40 years….considers herself Christian. Like, her family is some weird assed Dutch Reformed version. She’s not practicing. She has absolutely no problem with my devout atheism.

    But she still can’t quite let go of Jesus. Unlike her childhood church….she loves the really nice version of Christ…the whole, love thy neighbor, Jesus with lambs and children, forgiveness and kindness thing…which I pretty much believe in, too (except for the whole God part). On issues, we’re utterly compatible. She’s pro choice, pro science, pro LGBTQ. She believes that women who support Trump degrade themselves. She’s awesome. She’s the sister I never had. Love her to the end of time.

    Christianity comes in as many flavors as Baskin Robins. Some are disgusting. Others are fine.

    Atheism also has it’s asshole members. Though, I have to say I’ve met a hell of a lot of Atheists, and if I had to compare the populations, I think there are exponentially more Christian supreme assholes per hundred individuals.

    I went to buy a Toyota Prius one year from a local lot. First thing out of the salesman’s mouth was that his lot offered better…everything…because they were a Christian business. Seriously. He said this. Wow, a “Christian” used car lot. That sounds accurate. LOL!

    I looked him in the eye and said, Bullshit. Your advertising Christianity doesn’t make you better. In fact, it makes me trust you less.

    He got really hot and went on a rant about how they were the best lot in town…blah blah blah….because of Christ personally presiding over every fucking car sale.

    I said….well, if you like Christians so much, why are you selling cars designed by Buddhists? Why not sell “Christian” cars made by Americans?

    This idiot proceeded to tell me that Japan was a Christian nation now. Seriously. He actually fucking believed this. “The missionaries” have converted the Japanese people. Bahahahahaha!

    First off, I’ve been to Japan. Not even half of the population is into ANY organized religion. Those that are….practice Buddhism and old school Shinto. There is this tiny little fringe of Christians in Japan…that are mostly motivated by fun Christian traditions like Easter Rabbits and Christmas Trees and popular Americana.

    I explained this to him and he continued to bitch at me finally saying that he would NOT SELL CARS that were not made by Christians. LOL.

    Eventually, I did have to report his dumb ass to the manager, who desperately tried to get me to buy the car. I told him no, and I told him why. And I bought the car from his competitor 20 miles away….a shockingly secular Toyota dealership that gave me the same car for $1000 less.

    I’m respectful of people who love their beliefs and practice them privately. But if you want to get your big ole “BELIEF” dick out and start swinging it around for the world to see….I’m getting mine out, too.

    Religion is EXACTLY like a big dick. It’s great that you love yours. It’s great that you think it’s the greatest dick ever. It’s great that you enjoy it at home, and spend a lot of time with it, and enjoy it with your loved ones.

    And like a big dick….it’s best not to show it to anyone who doesn’t want to see it, and for fuck’s sake keep it away from other people’s children.

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  7. Ha, I regrettably joined a parachurch group (kinda culty- ‘The Navigators’) at Big State College freshman year. Looking back, the tactics they use to pull in lonely freshmen are so sneaky (Like all events are free for first-years only, they pair you up with a “disciple-maker”- but don’t actually use that term to your face, etc). It was a huge party school, so those who weren’t into that scene, like me, kind of floundered a bit until we found people who we actually identified with. Perfect time to recruit.

    As soon as I severed ties and joined the local Presby USA church instead, there went those ‘friends’. I’ll never get over my roommate’s reaction though. She was also heavily involved in that group and remained in it. When I said I was a liberal Christian (the subject of global warming came up once- she didn’t “believe in it”) she didn’t quite know what to make of it. She was from North Carolina, I was from DC suburbia. Just different demographics, so I don’t think she’d ever met a far left Christian. “You mean you’re one of those DEMOCRATICS?!” She transferred back to Charlotte the following year.

    Also super creepy- it was almost like everyone from that group paired up freshman year, got engaged junior year, married once graduated. “Navigators Never-daters”. I don’t think they realized how not funny that sounded to anyone outside the group. Is that in mainstream evangelical/fundamentalist circles as well or is it more of a college Christian organization thing? Gotta get that MRS degree I guess.

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  8. I have had countless customers invite me to their church, my standard reply has been Sunday is the day of rest and I take that literally. If I went to church I would have to get up and take a shower and that cuts into my sleeping in and being lazy. Then I smile…

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  9. Early last spring, my beloved MIL died. She had truly been one of my best friends, from the time we met. She was nearly forty years older than I, but we clicked, as you do with certain people. And it stuck. She was a devout Catholic, had eight kids, none of whom ended up Catholic. Just like my family. But one brother brought his family to Texas. Sigh. They ended up extremely evangelical, maybe not quite fundamentalist. But close, just not with funny clothes. One of his grown daughters offered to do the eulogy for her grandmother, whom she definitely did not know very well. I smelled a rat, but was blown off by her children, remember I am just an in law.
    It started out ok, not too accurate, but some nice bits about history. My MIL was born in 1918. My BIL and his two oldest daughters took turns. Then on my BIL’s second go round, he commandeered the bible, and started preaching. (In this Catholic church, where we were given the courtesy of having her funeral, as she had not lived there, in her later years she was moved from here, near me, to her daughter’s home in CT. This church was just conveniently near the funeral home.) So inappropriate, so out of line, so disrespectful of what his mother believed, I could hardly breathe. He, they, his wife and smug, homeschooling daughters were there to save the lost members of the family, as they made clear. We are just a large bunch of North Eastern elites, surely going to hell.
    I could go on, and may later, but this is such a painful topic, to have them highjack what would have been a beautiful funeral, with the dignity this elegant Catholic lady deserved. I rejected it all, too, but still had enough respect to go along with her beliefs in a ceremony HONORING HER LIFE..

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  10. My patience for religion has grown thin.

    We wanted that farm implement gone and the money in our hands. There was a motive there on our part.

    I can be hell on wheels if I’m properly provoked.

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  11. There is an older man who comes into my job almost every day. And every single day he finds a way to bring God into a conversation. His first talk with me began with, “Are you saved by God?” When I just stared at him in stunned silence he started to PRAY FOR ME during the middle of our transaction. When his card wouldn’t slide, he said “the world has gone mad, thank goodness Jesus is coming back soon.” I was dumbfounded. Its none of his damn business what I do or don’t believe. I was raised in church and a religious school, I’ve had the Bible pounded into my brain day in and day out. I’m TIRED. I’ve just now realized, in the past few years, that maybe I don’t have to fear hellfire and eternal damnation for exploring other beliefs. The hypocrisies in the church are glaring and its extremely apparent now.

    The fact that this old man has the nerve to push his religion on me, a complete stranger, shows just how little Christians are really “discriminated” against. Do you think a Muslim man would have begun proselytizing to me like that out of nowhere? I don’t.

    Sorry for the rambling. I’m horrible at compiling my thoughts!

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  12. When we had Nathan’s first memorial at a sports bar in Raleigh, NC, the place was packed. Standing room only. We worried the whole time that we were going to exceed the fire limit.

    My mother had been reluctant to attend because it was being held in a bar and Jesus would never approve of that. One of the men from her church (Dan) brought her. He knew Nathan but not well and probably hadn’t seen him in a decade.

    We had an open mic thing, but we asked people to sign up for time because we had to sort of plan it a little bit and the guy who was doing all this wanted to shuffle those who simply wanted to speak, read a poem or whatever, with those who were performing music.

    Unbeknownst to me, Dan signed up to speak. Nathan’s friend who was handling the signups had no idea who he was but assumed he was a friend of ours and so he never mentioned it to me.

    Imagine my horror when Dan got up at the mic.

    He began to speak and I was at the very back of the room. I had to immediately navigate my way through that crowd to get to the control room and ask them to cut his mic. Before I managed to do that, he had launched into some BS about how Nathan’s music raised lots of questions, but that Nathan didn’t have any answers.

    And from there he went into God’s Simple Plan of Salvation.

    I was LIVID.

    It wasn’t that mentioning God was a no-no at Nathan’s memorials. It was not.

    One of his good friends was an Irish pub owner, complete with the beautiful accent, who talked frankly and beautiful about Nathan and religion. Paddy is staunchly Irish Catholic. I cried. It was gorgeous. He was just pouring out his heart, not trying to convert. Here’s what he said. Click on Paddy Gibney.

    Several days earlier, my mother had dragged me and Dave to see a man in her church that we knew pretty well whose wife had died right around the same day that Nathan did. We expressed our sympathy. It wasn’t a surprise that she died. She’d been very ill with terminal cancer for quite some time. He talked and talked and talked about her.

    Then he said, “I know that you don’t want to talk about your loss”, never even mentioning Nathan’s name and went right back to chattering away about his wife. They were uncomfortable about who Nathan was and how he died and so he didn’t want to talk about it and assumed we didn’t either.

    I looked at Dave with The Look (GET ME OUT OF HERE BEFORE I KILL HIM) and we exited.

    After Dan sabotaged Nathan’s memorial, I wrote him a letter. I asked him what he would have thought of us if we had gone to that woman’s funeral, and if they’d allowed people to speak, and if I’d gotten up and said that I was so sorry that she wasted her entire life believing a complete myth.

    He replied with some lame BS about “if I offended you.”

    OF COURSE HE OFFENDED US.

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  13. To the COWARD who writes this garbage page:

    I noted that you ‘closed comments’ on the hit piece you wrote on me so I’m giving you a heads up here. I am taking every bit of defaming tripe like your article to court. My lawyer has found your identity through subpoena. Learn about paying for your continued abuse of a private citizen. Here is my comment for your hit piece on me. I hope you post it.

    So, in your opinion, whatever a jury determines = TRUTH, right? I am writing a book that will give all the data that the jury was given as well as most of the information that I brought concerning Riggins’ character and reputation that was unjustly suppressed by Judge Ortiz. Riggins failed his lie detector test when he was questioned about my rape. Did you know that? Anyone in the military knows that this information was available to the Sec. of the Army McHugh who would most definitely consider it when making his decision to promote Riggins. Riggins also lied on his promotion review board letter concerning important facts of his investigation- these lies were then sent to the Sec. of the Army who used it to make his final decision as well. This report was also suppressed by Judge Ortiz. Furthermore, the actual findings of his criminal investigation done by the Army was also stricken as ‘inadmissible’ in my trial, thus depriving the jury of the true results of his investigation. Therefore, the jury was only allowed to hear the false results of his investigation, which stated that my accusation was unfounded. That is not what Sec. of the Army recited when he denied Riggins his promotion. He cited the fact that the CID investigation did not uphold RIGGINS’ innocence. You know nothing of my case or the trial. Judge Ortiz refused to allow any of my witnesses to testify concerning their personal knowledge of Riggins’ mistreatment of women in the military and his clear harassment of women under his power. But my book will contain all that evidence and more. It will prove 100% that he lied on his one and only alibi to my rape accusation. What I find so despicable is the hypocrisy of the left who claims to ‘support women’. What a joke. You care about women’s issues like rape? I don’t think so. Here you celebrate one of the most damaging precedents being set against women who name their rapist online. Do you know how many young women have already done this? Now, they will be victimized by their rapists as well. You have no idea about the facts of the case. You are an ignorant, hateful mocker of other people simply because you hate their OPINIONS. The Left is not ‘tolerant’ at all. And you sit here acting like you care about the case itself. You don’t. You attack for one reason: I am a conservative woman. Thus, you are a hypocrite in the worse sense. Here are two articles I wrote to defend myself- get the facts.

    https://shortlittlerebel.com/2017/08/12/in-my-defense/
    https://shortlittlerebel.com/2017/08/15/washington-post-article-makes-another-error/

    I didn’t get a fair trial and can’t afford an appeal. That just means that a RICH man won over a stay at home mother with three kids. Your joy over this complete and utter injustice hurts a woman who gave up everything to stay home and raise her kids in a decent, hard working Christian home. Shame on you. Seriously.

    Special Note to: Angelreneetn. Girl, you break my heart. Don’t allow a jerk like the one who wrote this hit piece to make you doubt other raped women. The stats on rape show that only the tiniest percentage of women lie about their rapes. Riggins never once proved WHY I would lie about mine. He and his bloodthirst, unethical lawyer couldn’t ever give a reason why I would go out of my way to stick to my article as I have done. I gained nothing and now, have lost everything. The trial was a JOKE. There was something terribly wrong with the jury, which I will very soon demonstrate with FACTS that can’t and won’t be ignored. Have FAITH in my, my fellow sufferer. I had NO REASON to lie, was given many opportunities to retract my article without penalty, but STUCK WITH IT for the sole reason that I believe raped women should be free to name their rapists on social media without penalty. I am being made to pay for my stance. Stay strong.

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  14. I went to a Southern Baptist Christian school, grew up in the Cumberland Presbyterian Church, and am currently attend a Methodist Church. I’m 35 soon to be 36 years old and would never ever dream of doing what that lady did. How unbearably rude. I’m not big on “evangelizing” and I honestly believe your relationship with God is between you and God. Good gravy.

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  15. For those who are as confused as I was when I first saw this, HERE is the piece Susan Shannon is so worked up about.

    I noted that you ‘closed comments’ on the hit piece you wrote on me so I’m giving you a heads up here.

    Comments are automatically closed on stuff here after a certain amount of time. It’s just the way I have it set. A heads up about what?

    My lawyer has found your identity through subpoena.

    You didn’t have to go to that trouble. All you had to do was ask. Funny how my internet service provider hasn’t said a single word to me about that.

    So, in your opinion, whatever a jury determines = TRUTH, right?

    Nope. Not so. I think OJ was guilty.

    You attack for one reason: I am a conservative woman.

    Well, actually, I think you’re an idiot. There’s that.

    a woman who gave up everything to stay home and raise her kids in a decent, hard working Christian home.

    I’m not a Christian, so I’m unimpressed with that.

    I believe raped women should be free to name their rapists on social media without penalty.

    Really? You think that a person should be free to accuse another person of a serious crime and even if they are lying, suffer no penalty for having done so? Seriously? Would you feel that way if somebody just arbitrarily accused you of sexually molesting their child? What if somebody wrote a blog piece claiming that. Would you think they should be allowed to do that and you remain powerless to do anything about it?

    Let me explain something to you, Susan. I said not a single thing in that article that wasn’t based on the news as it was reported by lots of different sources. If they were wrong – if they reported incorrectly or falsely – then your beef is with them, not me.

    It is a fact that you lost and lost spectacularly. Or is that false?

    Every word I wrote was based on fact and presented my personal opinion of those facts. You do understand that is protected speech, don’t you?

    Probably before you try suing all the news outlets in America, you should be making some payments to Wil Riggins, don’t you think?

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  16. I believe raped women should be free to name their rapists on social media without penalty.

    Coffin v. United States, 156 U.S. 432 (1895), was an appellate case before the United States Supreme Court in 1895 which established the presumption of innocence of persons accused of crimes.

    Innocent until proven guilty.

    You went about it ass backwards and got handed yours. Chew on that.

    woman who gave up everything to stay home and raise her kids in a decent, hard working (sic) Christian home

    Is that supposed to impress people? Maybe it will impress this guy.

    http://www.blessedlittleblog.com/drawing-lines/

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  17. Susan Shannon.

    1. Sally says who she is right on the blog so to identify her you needed a subpoena? LMFAO

    2. A jury determination is a jury determination. It seems they didn’t buy into your story.

    3. Suppressed evidence? Fucking appeal that shot and if you win then you can come back and make the claim you just made. Also, lie detector tests aren’t considered particularly reliable in a court of law. There is tons of caselaw about it and even rules of evidence. Google it.

    4. Write your book. Just be careful that he doesn’t sue you for defamation and win. That is if a publisher will even touch it or at the very least edit the hell out of it to avoid potential legal liability. Good luck with that.

    5. People lie. Just because someone claims something doesn’t make it true. See again jury determination.

    6. You’re intolerantly bitching about liberals not being tolerant enough when it comes specifically to you? Lmfao again. Who says that tolerant people have to be tolerant of intolerance?

    7. Welcome to the “you lost a lawsuit” club. Somehow the loser always blames it on the judge, the jury, the system, Aunt Tilly and never ever on themselves.

    8. Speech in the USA is still free, it’s just not free from consequences, but I guess you learned that lesson, or than again maybe you didn’t see #7.

    9. If you don’t have the money for an appeal are you suing every critic on the internet now and paying your team of attorneys with magic beans? Asking for a friend.

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  18. Oh yeah, OJ was definitely guilty. The jury got it wrong. But you know what? Sometimes juries get it wrong.

    Everyone should have a vigorous defense. Even that disgusting slimeball who should still be in jail, Brock Turner, was entitled to a good defense (he got it). I’d like to kick his father in the dick too. I hope that Judge Persky is recalled too.

    Cathy – just in case you’re reading here – please note that Brock Turner had his day in court. He was accused, there was a trial and he was found guilty. I wish he were still in jail and for years to come, but due process was followed. WHAT IS THE NAME OF THE MAN CONVICTED OF RAPING YOU, CATHY?

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  19. Cathy waits until they are dead before naming them as one of her many rapists, imo. You know, from the tenderness of her heart, hahaha, who am I trying to kid?

    I would hazard to guess that it does have everything to do with standing to sue her corpulent ass. Dead men can’t tell tales or defend themselves from tales dontcha know? More importantly the law is pretty solid in that an estate cannot file a defamation lawsuit. While you can defame the dead in deed and word, you cannot legally defame the dead. How very convenient.

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  20. Do you raise the pigs for meat? Glad that you tracked her down and Dave secured her little pen.

    How is Cheney doing? Is she looking for Georgia?

    How’s the little guy doing? Growing by leaps and bounds? Picture please?

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  21. I’m telling this story because of my experiences with ‘christians’. I was raised Baptist, churchy neighbors took me to a tent service and basically forced me to go to the front and be ‘saved’. I was 9 years old, and was scared shitless, crying because i really didn’t want to do it. My grandparents, as I think back, weren’t too happy with the neighbors, but it was what it was. As I grew, our Baptist preacher pushed me to go to Christian camp for 2 weeks, when i was 12/13, again, scared shitless.
    When I graduated from HS, the preacher tried to talk me into going to a Christian college…to be a missionary. Again, creeped me out. I went to a Teacher’s College (as they were known at the time), went through a few boyfriends, met my husband to be, who was, gawd ferbid, a Jew. Mic drop.
    Married by the preacher who was still trying to save my husband, AND his parents! Caused a great rift in the first year of our marriage, and I understand why.
    Years passed, relations got easier.
    Hubby loved his High School years and always wanted to go to Reunions. He had strokes, but still wanted to go. The last one I went to with him, while at the banquet, with him talking to someone else, an old friend of his came to me. (This was a man who was picked on in HS and my husband, being the caring person he was, made friends with him.) The friend and wife had kept in touch with us for years, but this particular evening, he wanted to talk to me about hubby being ‘saved’. I was dumbfounded. I said, but he ‘s Jewish. The friend said yes ,I know but he can still be saved, he’s ill and needs to.get ready for Jesus. I got up and said, hubby is okay, don’t worry about him. That was my final come to agnosticism moment. I never told.Hubby till much later, when he was wondered why he hadn’t heard from.this ‘friend’.
    Sorry, this is soooo long, I tried to shorten it, but it messed up the timeline, so to.speak!..I miss hubby.?

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  22. The arrogance of evangelicals never ceases to make me want to throw up. My almost nine year old uses an AAC device for communication. He tends not to want to communicate with people he doesn’t know very well. He is immunocompromised and has a variety of complex medical and developmental issues. As a result, we have a home health care aide who comes in the afternoons to help with his care. At one point, our regular caregiver was out on vacation, so we had a sub for two weeks.

    Week one was relatively uneventful, although she did ask me what church we attended (None.). She asked about a picture of my youngest we have in the wall. It was taken after his death, and it is the only picture we have where he isn’t covered in medical equipment. It was a quick conversation, and I didn’t think much of it.

    Week two did not go as planned.

    She came that Monday and all was uneventful. She left and my son seemed a bit anxious, but eh, since he didn’t have anything to tell me I didn’t think much of it. Tuesday she came and I noticed that right before the end of her shift she seemed to be doing a lot of talking very earnestly with him whuie he was drawing. I didn’t hear what she was saying. She leaves and my kid springs into action. He draws the curtains. He checks the deadbolt and locks it. He drags his younger sister away from fhe window and tries to herd her downstairs. He was terrified. So I sit him down and start playing twenty questions. Then I call her and lost my shit on her.

    This nutjob took it upon herself to inform my son that Jesus is real and he took baby brother to be with him….and not to be scared about being sick, because someday Jesus would take him and his sister to be with him. She told him that she would be praying for Jesus to watch over our family.

    Fucking fabulous, based on this ripshit bonkers woman my son was terrified that he and his sister were going to be the next victims of kidnapper and murderer. I was very civil when I got on the phone and verified what she had told my son. She was apologetic about him being scared and told me that she would be happy to bring bible stories the next day so that he would know that Jesus loves children. Yeah. Fuck, no. I then informed her that if she couldn’t refrain from speaking to my child about her religion that she would not be employed in our home.

    She then started whining at me about how Christians are persecuted for their beliefs and I was religiously discriminating. Which is when I told her to take her delusions and shove them up her ass.

    My kid now has a folder on his AAC labled “Sky Fairy” so that he can more easily explain to us if this ever happens again. I explained to him that Jesus was like one of the my little ponies that his sister loves. Fun to read about, fun to play with, totally pretend and not something you inflict on people who aren’t pony fans. He got it, but is still pretty suscpious of anyone wearing a cross.

    Batshit crazy.

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  23. About how much will she weigh when she’s butchered? When do you think she’ll be ‘market weight’ and ready to be transformed into sausage, bacon, pork chops, etc.?

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  24. I didn’t get a fair trial and can’t afford an appeal. That just means that a RICH man won over a stay at home mother with three kids. Your joy over this complete and utter injustice hurts a woman who gave up everything to stay home and raise her kids in a decent, hard working Christian home. Shame on you. Seriously.

    1) That is always a risk – losing

    2) You fail to mention your husband, who may still work as a US Probation officer (United States v. Nettleton), why aren’t you singing the praises of the man who supported you?

    3) You didn’t give up much to stay home as you apparently believe you are superior to other parents who chose to or have to go to a job to support themselves and their children

    4) Please remember that plinths may elevate you over hoi polloi, but they are cold, slippery and can lead to a tumble

    5) I hope he doesn’t lose the house paying the bills that you racked up when you decided to act on, “I believe raped women should be free to name their rapists on social media without penalty”.

    6) You have to PROVE that you were raped. It’s not always successful but there are damn good reasons for having to prove it first
    6a) http://www.telegraph.co.uk/men/thinking-man/11912748/Guilty-until-proven-innocent-life-after-a-false-rape-accusation.html
    6b) http://www.telegraph.co.uk/men/the-filter/another-mans-shoes/11494055/What-its-like-to-be-falsely-accused-of-rape.html
    6c) You wouldn’t want your children to be falsely accused of harming another
    6d) You wouldn’t want to be falsely accused either – even if it’s untrue it will cost money to defend yourself and if it’s done in the social media it’s the death of a thousand cuts.

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  25. I love how every little repair and Jerry-rig and foreseeable mistake we all do now, is referred to as “nauglered”.
    “I nauglered the fence back together after it got hit by a car”
    “Are you sure that nauglering will hold?”
    “I shouldn’t have nauglered that.”

    I now know of two repair shops who use “nauglered” and “fucked” interchangeably.

    Eventually, Merriam Webster will pick it up

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  26. About how much will she weigh when she’s butchered? When do you think she’ll be ‘market weight’ and ready to be transformed into sausage, bacon, pork chops, etc.?

    Clemson University says that the feed conversion thingy is optimal at about 220 pounds. However, they’re talking about raising a hog with little to no fat and we like a little fat on our hogs. I used lard in cooking. So we tend to go closer to 300 pounds. Some of it depends on the weather. It needs to be chilly on the day we process the meat, but not zero degrees. She’ll be ready about the last of February, I expect.

    We are getting her a sibling today because Somebody (Al Wilson) wants to share the pain/pleasure with us and we’re engaging in a Deal that results ultimately in him with a hog and us with a lamb.

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  27. Do you raise the pigs for meat?

    Yes. Piglets are otherwise known as “bacon seed.”

    How is Cheney doing? Is she looking for Georgia?

    Not as much as she was. Dave (especially, as she loves him) is paying her quite a bit of extra attention, and cheating on her diet slightly with small bits of grain. She is not supposed to have any at all as she is fat. She’s hanging out more closely with the cattle than she ever did before. It makes me very sad to watch her. There’s a young jenny (female donkey) in her future, I’m sure.

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  28. Susan and her husband have limited funds because she is a stay-at-home mom to their three children and Susan’s husband already works two jobs.

    Time for you to find a job that will help pay the bills.

    This case is unique, and will define the consequences for all rape victims who identify their assailants publically (sic) in the future.

    Mission accomplished. Report rape to the police before you accuse someone online.

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  29. Not as much as she was. Dave (especially, as she loves him) is paying her quite a bit of extra attention, and cheating on her diet slightly with small bits of grain. She is not supposed to have any at all as she is fat.

    Try beet pulp with NO molasses. You don’t have to soak it, but it makes it a bit tastier, she thinks she’s getting FOOD and as long as you give her just a little bit it won’t hurt her. Beet pulp is used in a lot of equine senior feeds.

    You need a laugh. This one does it for me every time! (Copyright Susan Evans Garlinghouse 1997)

    http://www.dressage.com/humor/2001/0330beet.htm

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  30. Try beet pulp with NO molasses.

    That is not a bad idea at all. If she’ll eat it, it will make her feel special. As it is, she is left out while everyone else has their dinner. Happens every night.

    OMG, the beet pulp article. So funny. I’ve used it before, so I know what happens when you soak it.

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  31. I forgot to mention that beet pulp is the backbone of a lot of complete feeds too. Mice don’t like it so it’s one of the few feeds that doesn’t have to immediately go into a metal can.

    I do hope she enjoys messing about with it.

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  32. I don’t think I’ve laughed so hard as trying to imagine their faces when you dropped the A word. My husband is from Egypt, believe me when I say there’s a third box!

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  33. Oh no! The link is dead! This is too funny not to share with others who may have missed it somehow.

    http://stories.endurance.net/1998/01/beet-pulp-hazards-susan-garlinghouse.html

    Thursday, January 01, 1998
    Beet Pulp Hazards – Susan Garlinghouse
    Well, I knew there had to be a downside to beep pulp, and thought it only fair that I pass it on…

    This afternoon I decided to bring some beet pulp pellets into the house to soak, because I wanted to get an idea of the % volume they expanded during soaking. Researchers are like that, pathetically easy to amuse and desperately in need of professional help. So I trundled in a bucket, about three pounds of beet pulp, added in the water and set it in the living room to do its thing. No problem. Science in the making.

    Well, one thing I don`t think I`ve mentioned before is that in my ongoing Quest to turn this house into Noah`s Ark, we have not only four horses, two dogs, three house cats plus Squeaky the barn cat, a sulfur-crested cockatoo, a cockatiel and assorted toads, we also have William, a fox squirrel who absent-mindedly fell out of his tree as a baby a year or so ago, and got handed off by my vet to the only person he knew silly enough to traipse around with a baby squirrel and a bottle of Esbilac in her bookbag. Being no dummy, William knew a sucker when he saw one and has happily been an Urban Squirrel ever since. And for those of you that think A Squirrel`s Place is In The Wild, don`t think we didn`t try that…last year at Christmas, we thought we`d give him his first lesson in Being a Wild Squirrel by letting him play in the undecorated Christmas tree, and his reaction was to shriek in horror, scutter frantically across the floor and go try to hide underneath the nearest border collie. Since then, the only way he will allow himself to be taken outside is hiding inside Mummy`s shirt and peering suspiciously out at the sinister world. So much for the re-make of Born Free in San Dimas.

    Anyway, when I set out the bucket of beet pulp, I may have underestimated the lengths that a young and enthusiastic squirrel will go to to stash all available food items in new and unusual hiding spots. I thought letting William out of his cage as usual and giving him a handful of almonds to go cram under cushions and into sleeping dog`s ears was sufficent entertainment for the afternoon. After all, when I left, he was gleefully chortling and gloating over his pile of treasure, making sure the cockatoo saw them so he could tell her I Have Almonds And You Don`t. Sigh. So much for blind optimism.

    Well, apparently when the almond supply ran out, beet pulp pellets became fair game and I can only imagine the little rat finding that great big bucket and swooning with the possibilities of being able to hide away All That Food. The problem isn`t quite so much that I now have three pounds of beet pulp pellets cleverly tucked away in every corner of my house, it`s that as far as I can tell, the soaking-expanding-and-falling-apart process seems to be kinda like nuclear meltdown. Once the reaction gets started, no force on earth is going to stop it. So when I happily came back from the grocery store, not only do I find an exhausted but incredibly Fulfilled squirrel sprawled out snoozing happily up on the cat tree, I find that my house smells like a feed mill and virtually every orifice is crammed full of beet pulp. This includes the bathroom sink, the fish tank filter, in my undie drawer, in the kitty box (much to their horror) and ALL the pockets of my bookbag. I simply can`t WAIT to turn on the furnace and find out what toasting beet pulp smells like.

    The good news is that in case of siege, I have enough carbohydrates hidden in my walls and under the furniture to survive for years. The bad news is that as soon as I try to remove any of the Stash, I get a hysterical squirrel clinging to my pant leg, tearfully shrieking that I`m ruining all his hard work and now he`s going to starve this winter. (This is despite the fact that William is spoiled utterly rotten, knows how to open the macademia nut can all by himself and has enough of a tummy to have earned him the unfortunate nickname Buddha Belly.)

    So in case anyone was losing sleep wondering just how much final product you get after soaking three pounds of beet pulp, the answer is a living room full. I`d write this New Data up and submit it as a case study paper to the nutrition and physiology society, but I suspect the practical applications may be limited.

    Off to go empty the Shop-Vac. Again.
    Susan Garlinghouse

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