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Showing most liked content on 01/12/2018 in all areas

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    Today i crumbled. Big time.
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    The kids' menu at a local Italian restaurant has a very interesting title when viewed online.
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    i honestly have a lot of trouble articulating my beliefs, even amongst other christians, in a way that doesn't make it sound self-help-y. & i mean, there's a loooooot of stuff in my faith that i still wrestle with and have not fully figured out yet. i'll try to follow up on this post later when i have a bit more time but i'll open by saying this: my faith as a child rested a lot on my fear of hell and my desire for eternal life. i no longer really care about either of those things, what will happen will happen. the two biggest factors in my faith now are 1. my unshakeable belief that the teachings of jesus christ are THE infallible truth. i have so much confidence that adhering to those principles and traits that he embodied is the right path through life. 2. my desire to be guided by those principles and, for lack of a better phrase, "god's perfect plan." i wasn't put on this earth to dream about the afterlife, i was put here to live my best possible life and make a positive difference in a super shitty and flawed world. and i mean, obviously my worldview is hugely shaped by my upbringing. but everywhere i look (especially here on this board!), i see so much pain and so many unanswered questions about life that i really don't often think or worry about. my faith doesn't make a lot of sense sometimes, but more often than not i find the answers in it. apologies if literally any of this sounds high and mighty or self righteous. not an easy subject to talk about in earnest.
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    Apologies for my crude 2011 language below but I want to share my letter to god story with the next generation and can't be arsed typing it afresh. Posted 20 July 2011 - 09:46 PM I went to a Catholic school and we were soon to make our Confirmation (making me 11, fc). We had a substitute teacher one day, or a parent helper or something, and our task was to write some sort of promise to god. She stressed that it would be anonymous, sealed in a big envelope and not opened by anyone. It was between us and god. This led to jokes among me and my pals about what funny stuff we could write. Silly me, they were all just joking (shitebags), but I suppose I was going through my "I've had enough of this Catholic shit" phase and decided I would follow it through. I started off with some pretend sincerity about promising to help out around the house more or whatever, then added: "Also, I promise to shag at least fifty women in my life, because I am a lean, mean fucking machine. Amen (in a jar)." "In a jar" was an in-joke I had with pals at the time where we added "in a jar" on the end of things. Can't remember what it was meant to mean. I don't know if I'd heard lean mean fucking machine or came up with it myself. Still use it though. That was on a Friday. I forgot about it over the weekend. On Monday morning I was told the head teacher wanted to see me and I honestly didn't click as to what it would be about as I walked to her office. Then I saw she had everyone's English jotters on her desk, with mine sitting open at the top of the pile. For handwriting comparison purposes, you see. She started questioning me about what we did in class the previous Friday and asked a couple of times "have you got anything to tell me, David?". I didn't know what to do so I just kept saying no. When she eventually brought out the letter I had to concede and ended up crying like a big pansy. She was distraught too. "How could you think such things?" etc. She made it much worse than it should've been, man. I was sent somewhere to cool off until playtime rather than going back to class. When I got out to the playground, dudes were all staring at me. My friends approached and it transpired that during my cooling off time the head teacher had taken all the boys out of my class for a discussion about me. She asked them if I often talked about sex and if I ever behaved inappropriately . Bitch was giving me the mental perv treatment. My mum was called up that afternoon and given the letter. I remember the head pleading ignorance about the private part of it, saying the big envelope with all the letters was put on her desk with no info, but it was a "good thing" she opened it because it was supposed to go to the church and the priest would probably have seen it and I wouldn't have been allowed to make my confirmation (which would've been the best ending). Mum was being all serious at school but as she drove me home she suggested the head teacher was clueless for finding it so shocking that an 11 year old knows what sex is. She also let me know I was fucking stupid for thinking no one would read the letter, which she later showed to all my aunts and I had to endure them calling me stud and shagger and stuff at parties. When my dad got home from work he slapped me across the head but I know he secretly thought it was cool as fuck. I made my confirmation a month or so later, but thankfully around that time my older sister had started to kick up shit about going to church and stuff and paved the way for me to abandon Catholicism with relatively little fuss. Amen (in a jar).
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    It seriously does not matter if he has a diagnosis It does not matter if he's doing any of this "on purpose" It will convince exactly zero people to stop supporting him It will increase the misunderstanding and demonization of neurodiversity It will give him no relief from his suffering, if there is any If you cant can't get more than 70 doctors to sign something, it is a certainty that the medical community disagrees with it
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    like the most serious engagement I've had with religiosity in the past 15 years is having read The Tao of Pooh because I fucking love Winnie the Pooh
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    I went to baptist school for 8 years and within a couple of years of leaving I realised how much hypocritical and contradictory information I had been told as gospel and decided religion was not for me. My family is catholic mostly as a cultural thing (never went to church except for weddings, baptisms, communions, etc). For a while I tried to find a way to have some kind of ‘faith’ but that has pretty much gone. I don’t know if there’s a god, I’m not sure if even matters. My dad’s wife practices Santeria. She is nuts.
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    I can probably count on one hand the number of friends I've had real sincere conversations about belief and religion with as an adult, all friends from camp, the few that I've managed to stay close with who aren't still hardcore zionists. but again camp was probably the experience that's most palpably shaped my concept of and connection to judaism, and it's something that you can't really explain to someone who wasn't there. it's also inextricably tied to a lot of pro-israel indoctrination, which is something I've only started feeling the need to try and unpack in the few years since I stopped going back and is also hard to discuss comfortably with someone who wasn't there
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    That makes sense. I guess I sort of turned the opposite way, towards religion in an effort to purify myself or whatever. I've only come to accept that I'm bi in the last several months and am now starting to realize how many of my decisions in adolescence/adulthood stemmed from denial of this. Catholic guilt is lame as fuck...I used to be such an asshole
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    Here's another wee religious nugget for you Clarky Deflated, on 03 May 2012 - 03:37 PM, said: Oh to give a serious answer, they filmed mass at the church next to my primary school for STV and I was forced to go. I'm still bitter about it. Bad enough I was a part of that shite for so long, but to force me on telly as well? Singing hymns! In a jar, ya geniuses. In a fuckin jar. A few years later this appeared on facebook: 3 minutes in to see me noticing the camera is on me and dying inside
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    Yeah I was here just as it started. That podcast addressed a rumor that I had heard many times when I was young, which was about there being a sign on the border saying you should come to Albertville for jobs People swore it was real. There were some awful ordinances set to pressure them to leave - one being that they could no longer have food trucks. It ruined a handful of businesses. It's all died down since then and people have finally come to accept it. Regarding racism, I've found this place to be far more tolerable than other towns of this size in Northern Alabama. It's mostly just a bunch of old irrelevant fucks that still complain. I'm in southern Illinois right now and I always forget just how disgustingly racist an all white community is. I've heard the N word said multiple times by family members up here just in the last few hours I've been here. I haven't heard it said in Albertville in years. Sessions loves to use our town as the prime example of immigrants stealing jobs and raising the crime rate and it couldn't be any further from the truth.
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    Is that really him?? I had a tiny little bit of a crush on him once too! Paul can meet you and greet you and take photos, distance depending I misread that as to mean that he didn't want to stand too close to people for selfies!
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    this is slightly off topic, but inside the cover are many house and house related photos which add a lot to the sound and feel of the album somehow!!
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    i started counting calories and tracking my weight 11 days ago and i already lost 2 out of 4 lbs i gained on vacation
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    Apparently they define socialism as "having taxes and markets." And every educated person knows that the key concerns of socialists are what tax rates should be and how prices are set.
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    Architect Anita Kiiveri said: “While driving into the parking garage you dive into an underwater world continuing to the beach and jungle on the upper floors. The higher you go, there will be forests, valleys, mountains, space, and stars. Cancer and transplant patients are treated at the Magic ward. Depending on the floor and theme, lightning will reflect the water surface, stardust or the northern lights. Even in the elevators, you step into a fairytale.”
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    I'm always super skeptical of MASSIVE BEER MENU because unless you're at like a dedicated beer bar there's no way they're keeping all that shit fresh.
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    I was actually a bit sad for a minute, but the article has been updated to say that she ISN'T dead after all
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    the things I'll remember about kaas the most is his ratings of Eels albums being variations between 9.6 and 9.9
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    My mother's aggressive atheism comes from her being a nurse in southwest VA on an adolescent psych ward. Some of the things that have happened to her patients are so unimaginably awful that any faith she did have was stamped out completely
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    I had a long drive today and listened to Cupid’s Head three times in a row. It’s my drown-out-everything album
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    I didn't have consistent internet access until the mid '00s, so I had to print them either at my grandmother's or my friend's house. I remember once I went through like 200 pages of paper printing out a Resident Evil walkthrough and my friend's mom freaked and stopped the printer so I only had the walkthrough up to a certain point and the rest of the game seemed alien and impenetrable. Then I had a giant stack of walkthroughs on the old dotted printer paper from my grandmother's house and I would read them like they were novels
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    Tina and Rachel turned out very well indeed though, almost too well, Hannah not so well but still okay. Time can be very cruel, especially if you're Paul. He's only eight years older than me, and I don't even have any Brit Awards to sell when it all goes wrong, not yet anyway.
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    Saam: Sea Island Red Peas: Salmon (the trout wasn't delivered in time): Trumpet: Flat Iron: Yuzu Kosho (dessert #1): Korean Sweet Potato (dessert #2): Every dish was unique and not just beautiful, but delicious. Plus, sitting in the tiny little kitchen space, with the magic happening just a dozen or so feet away was pretty awesome. Also, the group of people (only 9 of us) that were there were all very nice and cool and into the experience; Here is a picture of our hosts, taken from my dinner seat. You can see just a sliver of my wife on the left-hand side of the picture. That tells you where we were sitting. A wonderful night and one of the best dining experiences that I have ever had. And I've had a few.
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    in a lot of ways i'm very happy to have gone through that, it made me realize first-hand how black & white human sexuality is not
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    I think I was like 19 when I found out my parents even believed in god, and I was a little shocked, and a little resentful that they never talked to me about spirituality at any point growing up. I mean, overall I'm probably grateful, but a little miffed. I just don't think about a deity, ever, unless someone else brings it up. Even when I'm reminded of mortality and the scale of space and time, and freak out a little bit about how the permanent end to my consciousness is essentially already here... I don't think about a deity until I move on to, "well, how do other people handle it?" And I'm not even sure that's how they handle it, or whether that (handling it, or needing to handle it) even makes sense from their perspective.
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    maybe there's somewhere earlier in the thread that I haven't looked for but tbh I'd love to hear a general sort of overview of your spirituality. which I understand is like really putting you on the spot. but after I graduated (catholic) high school I have never really had an adult conversation about this kind of shit with anyone, I kinda just shedded it as anything I was interested in exploring in any capacity. and as I get older I'm more curious about this sort of thing, now that I'm past the whole jaded teenage perception of all of it.
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    I was never religious myself, nor was anyone in my immediate family really My grandmother is devout but also very liberal and absolutely does not preach outside of church and my grandfather was an Episcopalian minister but drinks, swears, and tells gross jokes so hes hardly a paragon Weirdly, my mother has recently turned into the kind of aggressive atheist you generally only see in neckbeard stereotypes
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