Critical Poetry—J. P. Christiansen                                                   For more highly critical verse, see Critical Poems.    

How did I become post-theological/free-thinker/humanist/dissenter? I was born into the ethos of the first three, and I'm now practicing it on the fourth! Copenhagen, Denmark is a place where freedom of thought, freedom of expression, freedom of the press, and freedom of movement are a given, provided one meets the criteria of not hurting or silencing one's fellow citizens. I was never indoctrinated, manipulated, or brain-washed by religion or politics. What probably helps is the fact that I am a child of the late sixties, and what it means by way of participating in that generation's counter-culture. So I grew up on a solid base of freedom. Now, as a citizen of the US, I find myself writing poetry, a great part of which concerns ways of expressing what I see as most unfortunate developments in America, Europe, and the Middle East, concerning the clash of religion and freedom of expression.  In America, in the land of Payne, Jefferson, et al., we have seen the religious right take the American people hostage by infiltrating the political process.  What was that about separation of church and state? I hope to live long enough to see America once again become the land of the free, in thought, word, and deed, and to that end I dedicate my words. Freedom of expression means, among other things, not to be afraid of using words one feels appropriate. It means drawing the cartoons one feels best illustrates religious extremism and behavior caused by religious indoctrination from the moment one is born.

The Old Man and the Cartoon

Once upon a time,
in a country small, up north,
near close to sea and fjord,
so peaceful and pleasantly agreeable,
there lived an innocent and friendly old man
who loved to draw cartoons to express his thought.

He looked out upon the great, wide, wonderful world,

and to his amazement found religious strife and killings

practiced by people called Muslims.

Living, as he did, among fellow, open-minded citizens

who valued human life and human values above all else,

he decided to draw the prophet of Islam in a cartoon.

The image which appeared, like magic, on his paper,

was of the prophet’s head wrapped in a turban,

and in the turban rested a round, black, lit bomb.

People first thought the prophet was about to commit suicide,

but, after contemplating the drawing for awhile,

it became apparent some other meaning might be hidden.

Some of the believers of the religion called Islam,

lived in the small country, up north,

and when they saw the cartoon of their beloved prophet

depicted in such a blasphemous manner,

thought it might be a good idea to show the cartoon

to other followers of their beloved, peaceful religion.

They set upon a journey to countries far away in the big world,

where they soon found other adherents of their religion.

Together they decided the cartoon might be of use

to incite hatred of the heathens, up north,

and so it came to pass,

dear children,

that masses of Muslims went out to burn and kill.

They wanted to show the small, peaceful country,

up north,

that people, of different faiths and opinions on life,

had better temper their freedom to think, talk, and act,

‘cause if they didn’t,

the prophet’s holy men and warriors would come after them.

The religious leaders of Islam pronounced that the old man

should die for having drawn their prophet in unflattering light,

and he had to go into hiding from the theistic thugs hot on his trail.

The old man survived for several years,

and one day he got an invitation to travel to a big country

on the other side of the ocean.

It appeared that certain folks, over there, in America ,

wished to hear the tale of the old man and his cartoon.

He learned that in America many different people and religions

co-existed mostly in peace,

and that America might be a safe place to show himself.

When he arrived,

he learned that many people were afraid of him and his cartoon,

and that only a very few newspapers and television-stations

had dared show the cartoon to their viewers.

He realized that many inhabitants of America

were somewhat immature in their intellectual convictions,

and had to be protected from their own mental habits

by not being exposed to certain images and words.

The old man thought it humorous that editors of print and image

would tow the line of a mentally unstable person and his believers;

after all, weren’t these moderns atheists, Christians, Jews, or Other?

He went on to be interviewed by reporters and T.V. personalities,

and soon found out that the believers of Christianity and Judaism,

in particular, showed support for the old man and his cartoon,

some even calling him a hero and fighter for freedom of expression.

Being an old and wise man, he knew they supported him

because various religions tend to dislike each other,

and by praising the old man, could gain support for their own religion.

This type of behavior of conversion, dear children,

has been playing-out for many, many centuries...

ever since the so-called prophets of religion

suffered their psychotic episodes of hallucinations and visions

to be imposed on the rest of the world.

Once upon a time,

in a country small, up north,

near close to sea and fjord,

an old man drew a cartoon of a prophet’s head with a lit bomb in his turban,

and guess what, children,

nobody knew that beneath the big, black, lit bomb,

there nested many little bomblets waiting to go out in the big, wide world

to spread the good words and news about Islam.

Good night, children, and sleep well.
 

The Message

We are the riders of freedom,

and our vision encompasses all of Earth.

We are the atheists on white horses

sounding their hooves in the night

into morn’s light of revelation.    

We ride the city, and we ride the desert,

we ride the mountain, and the steppe,

and come to liberate humanities

and countries occupied by

gods and prophets.

The hour is here, folks,

to lift mind’s martial law of ages,

and to drive the preachers of mumbo-jumbo

from church, mosque, and synagogue.

Do you have water, sisters and brothers,

for our steeds carrying messages of love

through reason, justice, and democracy?

On Heresy
 

Surveying twenty centuries,

it's really amazing what theists got away with,

and after the crimes of killing humans,

what stands out is the killing of reason,

almost!

Take the word "heresy",

which in the original Greek referred to:

'Choice', 'principle', 'school of thought',

and in theistic madness became:

'Contrary belief to religious teaching',

and 'thought-crime'.

Now, where is the thought-crime, here?

Democracy Is Calling

If you prefer freedom for thought, word, and deed,

of the kind not physically destructive to others,

and not silencing or intimidating to mind,

you must be concise, and to the point,

of not allowing the theistic thugs of Islam their way,

and you must be the thinker not afraid to show

your displeasure and condemnation of a ‘holy book’,

i.e., their all-revered Koran of hate and infamy;

you must argue that their theistic impulse

is nothing less, or more, than mind’s bankruptcy,

and you must bear witness to the facts,

and then on to religion, in general, as it goes.

Those of contemporary European culture

who believe this is a debate for armchair philosophers,

wishing to leave bad enough alone,

likewise display a bankruptcy of mind.

They come across as intellectual cowards,

forgetting what we owe those who down through centuries

were tyrannized, tortured, burned, and killed,

directly as a result of religion and its thug-popes,

thug-prophets, and their henchmen thugs.

What do we owe them for their suffering,

which today ensures that we are free in mind and body?

How dare the apologists distance themselves from, e.g.,

an artist and his cartoon depicting a mentally disturbed man,

whose followers today are challenging our European values?

These theorists argue that the debate must move on,

and that accommodation must be found

for the inanities of the religion of Islam.

No ~

those who must move on are the Muslims,

the adherents of a belief-system incompatible with freedom,

and freedom is what this is all about preserving,

in honor and memory of those whose lives were taken.

No ~

compromise on the part of Western culture isn’t required;

only a clear and unequivocal “No, to yours!”,

and if it takes the re-printing, again and again,

of a cartoon of a mentally imbalanced individual

with a lit bomb in his turban, let it be so,

until finally his head is blown off.

Now,

dear sisters and brothers of Islam,

it isn’t easy to shed an identity

fed on the offal of a doctrine 1400 years old,

but you must grow up, and fast;

as the children of Aristotle,

and still in your juvenile years,

the civilized world is waiting,

and Democracy is calling!

The Rider

The fighter for Liberty

attacks on Her brave steed

the cornered trinity of Religion.

Her guide is the idea of Freedom,

well-armed by the science of Reason,

never again to be cowed by theocratic power.

There is this notion of human beings coming first,

and above, the nonsense of deluded prophets

proclaiming rights of non-existing gods

to rule by man’s whim and decree,

and ours is the lovely dawn.

A new sun is rising ~

out of darkness,

upon dry earth,

is heard,

hooves in the night.

“The Rider is coming!”

Trinity cowers in fear,

at all cost to defend

its crumbling fortress

of holy books and tyranny.

A new sun shines upon a day

bringing reason and liberty;

“The Rider is here!”

Offer Her, and Her steed,

water, sustenance, and shelter ~

She brings new life which could be yours.