(blocked) asks:
> What is your perspective??????
> Do you believe that we are all here due to one big happy (or
> unhappy) accident? From your perspective -- what is the meaning to
> life? Where does it come from then?
> Can I assume that at some point in your life that you did belong
> to a religious faith? What brought you to the conclusion that
> there is no god?

I declined to answer this privately because I'm really and
honestly leery of spreading, or trying to spread, or being perceived as
trying to spread my own notions about. What works for me, works for
me; your mileage may (and obviously does) vary. What I do or don't
believe shouldn't enter into it. That's why I've deliberately left it
*out* of the show. Otherwise you're not telling a story anymore, you're
engaging in propagandxa. But if you're going to press the issue....

As a writer, I don't feel it's my obligation to be fair to every
group on the planet. That way madness lies. But I do feel that it is
my absolute obligation to be *honest* in my portrayal of any group, as
well as I am able to perceive it. If I write about a Minbari, then I
must be as honest I can in addressing who that character is, what he
feels, what he believes, and so on.

So why should it seem such a leap that, as an atheist, I do the
same when it comes to religion? I suppose the question itself is the
truly astonishing thing...that it should seem strange or unusual to be
even handed and at least *try* to be honest. Have we dropped so much
as a culture that the absence of pushing one's own agenda, and giving
an honest hearing of someone else's viewpoint, is considered
extraordinary?

"The weaving of religion and scifi in your show is so well done.
Where does it come from then?" It comes from the characters who
believe in whichever religion is under consideration. If I am fairly
rigorous in presenting the scientific or extrapolative aspects of the
show, what then is odd about this other part?

As a writer, it's my obligation to put myself in the mind of my
characters, and feel what they feel, and while I'm in their head,
believe what they believe. If I do my job right, I offer those
opinions and thoughts and feelings with conviction, sincerity and
strength.

Also, bear in mind that the religious impulse is not that far
removed from the sense of wonder of a scientist on unlocking a
particularly thorny DNA code. (Note: science and religion are NOT the
same thing, their methodologies are diametrically opposed, and
creationism is NOT science, and evolution is NOT religion, however much
some might wish to make it so by saying it is.) The emotion is the core
truth of it all, what it *feels* like. We've all experienced the sense
of wonder in one form or another; it's no major task to translate it to
another venue.

The religious impulse, and the scientific impulse, both spring
from the same source...the desire to answer the questions, Who am I?
What am I doing here? and Where am I going? Those had to be the very
first questions we began asking when we became sentient, and we're
still asking them. The supernatural or religious approach to that
question came first; the scientific approach much later. The
scientific approach is, "How can I figure out the answer to the
question?" The religious impulse leads you to, "Who can tell me the
answer to the question?"

The one approach is not intrinsically better than the other;
they feed very different needs. And the whole point of *asking* the
question is to feed that particular emotional need for an answer. You
find the venue that most matches the wellspring of your desire. They
serve vastly different functions, are not comparable, but are no less
valid experiences for those involved. The core feeling of a scientist
on receiving the first images from the surface of Mars are not far
removed from the feelings of the newly converted upon stepping forth at
a revival meeting. Each gets what he *needs*. And each is an
honorable pursuit within its own framework.

"What brought you to the conclusion that there is no god?" That
I haven't yet seen one in any of our "holy books" that deserved the
name; not one that wasn't afflicted by the same jealousies,
pettinesses, irrationalities and meannesses of the average human. I've
met many humans who were better and nobler than some so-called deities,
who sacrified their limbs, their fortunes or their lives without the
sure knowledge that they would end up on the great white throne of
heaven for doing so.

"Do you believe that we are all here due to one happy (or
unhappy) accident?" My belief doesn't enter into it. The best
physical evidence indicates that we evolved ourselves up from the
ground, pulling ourselves up by our genetic bootstraps across a million
years of struggle, evolution and blood, surviving because we were
smarter than anything that was stronger than us. This, to me, is
something to be proud of; we did it ourselves, we weren't just created
whole and complete, all the work pre-assembled at the factory. We
walked on the moon because we *earned* it by growing smart, and
learning -- in however inconsistent and fractured a way -- to live and
work together more often than we fought with each other.

"From your perspective -- what is the meaning of life?" As an
atheist, I believe that we get just one ride on the merry-go-round, one
shot at the brass ring before they close the park. That's it. As a
result, I view life as being *incredibly* precious, a resource rarer
than any jewel. A resource that must be protected, nourished, put one
step further along the road to a better road. What we leave behind,
our only shot at immortality, is the work we leave, the accomplishments
that hold their place in the record books long after we've turned to
dust, so that our names have meaning. In 50 years, nobody will care
much what religion Jonas Salk subscribed to; they will care only that
he cured a terrible disease, and made the world a better place.

If we believe we are immortal, then we have wiggle-room to screw
up, because we'll get another chance; to waste our lives on the theory
that as long as we believe a certain way, it doesn't matter if we do
anything of consequence, we're guaranteed an eternity of harp music.
If we believe the world will be swallowed by armageddon in a few years,
then there's no reason to protect the planet, plan for the future, find
a comfortable balance between nature and industry, so that we can
achieve the stars without destroying the planet.

I don't have that luxury, and a luxury it is. So I find my
version of immortality in the words, and in the work, and in the memory
of those I may touch, or help, or instruct, or entertain.

You may not operate that way. And that's fine. It's our
differences that make us human, and our humanity that makes us
endlessly interesting.

jms