Table of Contents
Frank B. Finite (a "true" atheist)
Contact the fools - How you ca contact the us
Where are they now?
Learn whatever happened to your
favorite skeptic
Siggy was skeptical of religion in general. However, he also admitted that his position against religion might be entirely unjustified.
People have generally held a controversial view of Freud, but their position for or against him might also be entirely unjustified.
There are those who hold an antagonistic view toward us, but their position against us might very well be entitely unjustified as well.
And that's a fact!
Anyway, Freud thought that all religion was harmful because it was baseless, originated in an ignorant period of human history, that it was merely wishful thinking, etc., etc. Unless, of coarse, he was wrong.
But since he lived so long ago, he now falls into that "ignorant period of human history" category. How do you like that Mr. Freud?!
After chronicling the hysteria among religious folk, SF then turned his attention toward the hysteria of common folk. This is when he developed a "talking out" approach to treating mind problems which is now known as psychoanalysis.
The birds and the bees (if you get our drift - wink, wink) became central to Freud's view of neurosis. For some strange reason he really really liked to hear their repressed thoughts about the birds and the bees and claimed it was "research" ;-) ;-)
Then, after he became desensitized to hearing other people's gutter thoughts, he turned his attention to himself. He explored his dreams for clues to his own pre-pubescent daydreams about the birds and the bees.
After the thrill was gone with self-study, he had one more avenue he could have explored - the mind of God. But since he had already predetermined that God did not exist, he consciously passed the off ramp leading to this last avenue. Too bad.
On September 23, 1939 Sigmund Freud died of a painful case of cancer of the jaw.
Now, as you read this, reflect on the powerful influence of your unconscious mind on your conscious thoughts. Think about it, where do your thoughts come from?
Is what you are experiencing right now really YOUR reality? Or is it someone else's?
You know that you have had these thoughts before. Why? Because they are clues to the true reality that you have been caught up in.
This reality is that of Sigmund Freud's! As a young lad in school, Freud has asked a girl to talk about the birds and bees with him.
Shocked and in a state of hysteria, the little girl has slapped him knocking him to the ground. His glasses lay next to the rock that he hit his jaw on.
Right now he is in an altered state of in between the conscious and unconscious; and your existence is merely a byproduct of his own personal "Twilight Zone" thoughts formed by a misfiring synapse or two in his little jostled brain.
And he is mumbling to himself in a vain attempt to crawl himself out of his deep mental abyss. But alas, it is wishful thinking because he will come to when his brain gets all of its ducks back in a row.
This is the sum total of your existence - a few fleeting moments inside the head of a "fresh" sissy school boy who got clobbered by a member of the weaker sex.
Now you have a vision of an older Freud standing next to you wearing nothing but white boxer shorts with little red hearts on them.
And this doesn't make you laugh. Why? Because it is really Sigmund doing a self study and he has a rather high view of himself.
However, he realizes that this view might be entirely unjustified.
You are trapped. Your whole history and future owe their existence to a freak incident. And there is no escape. In fact, . . .
No, wait!
It's . . . it's . . .
It's Arnold Schwartzenager! He's standing right behind you holding a large futuristic gun resting against his enormous right bicep.
"Whe havf do gedt oudda hewre!" he exclaims. "This is nawt youwr true realidty."
"What?" you ask.
"Thewr's no tiyme to exsplain. Gedt movingk!" screams Arnie.
Look out! Something's crashing through the roof.
Oh no, it can't be.
It's, . . . it's . . .
It's the Incredible Hulk! He's large, green, and sporting a nice pair of home-made capri pants.
"Arrrrgh!" he screams. "I've come from the past to rescue you!"
"Don'dt trust heem," states Arnold. "He's eviwl."
Then Arnold adds, "Howevewr, my owpiniown own dthis mightd vewry wyell be endtiwrely unjuwsdtifiewd."
"Shut up, marble mouth!" yells the Huckster.
"Youw shudt up youw underevowlved, nappy headed frweak ofv nadture!"
The Hulk lands a right-cross squarely on Arnold's jaw, but his head barely flinches. Hulk's eyes grow wide with an instant realization of impending doom.
Arnold lowers the gun slowly, points the laser beam guide at the chest of the green antagonist, and steadily pulls the trigger.
Hulk, frame by frame, falls to the ground landing curled up in a fetal position. But he's smiling?!
"Is he dead?" you ask.
"No," answers Arnold. "Awll guns from dthe futuwre shoodt lovfe awrrows, just lyike Cupid when Valendtine's day was a recogknized howliday. Righdt now he's dreamingk of Britney Speawrs, budt we havf to huwrry, teen sensations liyke these don'dt last vewry longk."
"There's no more Valentine's day?" you ask.
"Thewr's no tiyme to exsplain. Gedt movingk!"
You are both now running down a hallway. But mysteriously you aren't gaining any ground. The hall keeps stretching toward infinity.
You're starting to feel anxiety and get hysterical. Do you think that it's because you had repressed birds and bees as a child?
But you keep running and running.
Oh no! Your vision is starting to fade to black. Little Siggy must be coming to. If he reaches full consciousness your existence will be totally wiped out.
Does this thought cause you any anxiety?
Now you are at a moral dilemma. Do you hope that Freud lapses into a coma therefore extending your consciousness? Or do you hope the best for him no matter what the consequences to you?
Oh no, it's getting darker.
Whatever you do tonight, don't go to . . .
