On xx/xx/09 I attended a Statewide Atheist Convention, which is a regional tentacle of American Atheists under the false assumption that I would not feel like an alien with a third eyeball where my mouth should be. My comfort level around these godless brethren was shaky at best and an excercise in paranoic attentiveness at worst. A goddamned Atheist also stole my good pen. So much for the Golden Rule.
Since I am in my late thirties, it was a bit of a surprise and a disappointment to be the second youngest in the room, by my super scientific observation method. The crowd skewed something like 80% over 50 and half of that was probably over 70. I did not find that lonely 20-40 year old woman with whom I would make an instant connection, and then relocate 300 miles to be near because her shiny black mane and enthusiastic lack of belief in the supernatural had hopelessly bewitched me. The whole affair just made me kind of sad. The worn-out ballroom in a one-star motor lodge made the whole event seem half-baked. The constant interruption of the video presentation projected on a 10-year-old ThinkPad with an Atari video card was also a large time waster.
I really did want to have a nice time with interesting people, and their many PhD’s, but I just had to leave before the final speaker, Dr. “Ed” Buckner, who in a secret coupe, replaced the former president of AA with himself because of personal disagreements only last winter. I have a feeling the attendance was so low and so aged because many younger people walked away from the parent organization in disgust at the ousting of the beloved and beautiful Ellen Johnson. This is only speculation based on the voices of internet trolls that clogged the message boards of AA and it’s affiliates a year ago.
Since I am in my late thirties, it was a bit of a surprise and a disappointment to be the second youngest in the room, by my super scientific observation method. The crowd skewed something like 80% over 50 and half of that was probably over 70. I did not find that lonely 20-40 year old woman with whom I would make an instant connection, and then relocate 300 miles to be near because her shiny black mane and enthusiastic lack of belief in the supernatural had hopelessly bewitched me. The whole affair just made me kind of sad. The worn-out ballroom in a one-star motor lodge made the whole event seem half-baked. The constant interruption of the video presentation projected on a 10-year-old ThinkPad with an Atari video card was also a large time waster.
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