#I don’t believe they’re omnibenevolent or omnipotent

[spaydekingcayde]

I know this makes me sound like a Christian or whatever but it’s true and I feel it in my heart.

The gods love you. They love your skin, your hair, your voice, your languages. They reward your good deeds, they will stand by you when you falter and they will give you the strength to get back up again and do better next time. They are interested in your daily mundane affairs even if you yourself think it’s above them. They’re interested, I promise. The gods love you, everything about you.

[academicatheism]

An Open Letter To Christians

After reading more than a few egregious posts on the blogs of some Christians I use to debate with, I think it’s time for an open letter. Some Christians, with time, change their tune or even start to question their faith. Others double down and start to show their true colors; still others become even more repulsive, professing things that are shocking even for them. That’s saying a lot. 

The person I would directly be responding to doesn’t write on Tumblr anymore, but he wrote an open letter to atheists that, funny enough, allows me to respond to Christians on Tumblr who are making light of the gratuitous amount of suffering in the world, especially that of children. His post isn’t one of these egregious posts I’m referring to. I happen to think he’s being sincere and trying to play nice, which is a welcome departure from the way Christians on Tumblr engage with atheists. 

His open letter is full of content that won’t be of interest to atheists, namely allusions to arguments for god stemming from Aristotle, Aquinas, and Kierkegaard. Anyone who has read any atheist responding to such arguments, such as Neilsen, Grayling, Martin, Oppy, etc., knows that none of those arguments hold any water. The arguments mostly exist to convince the Christian that his beliefs are reasonable. The arguments are not proofs as some of them are mistakenly called. There are a few points the Christian made that are worth responding to. He writes:

Christianity attempts to systematize the world by taking various pieces of experience and gathering them into a consistent whole. One of these crucial experiences is suffering, death and/or sin. As an atheist and as a Christian, we have to make something of this. 

Atheists do not have to make anything of sin because we aren’t obligated to subscribe to Christian concepts. Atheists can talk about any number of offenses, none of which are offenses against a god, because atheists have concluded that gods don’t exist. Where I agree is that we have to make something of suffering and death. If we choose to, and I would recommend that atheists do so, we may make something of immorality or evil. Though atheists aren’t obligated to “systematize the world,” if we choose to, our “whole” would be much more consistent and true, in a deflationary sense or in a correspondence sense. Christianity’s “whole” actually isn’t consistent at all.

Suffering and death, evolution aside (!), existed before humans did. So while Christians believe that the sin of a first man brought death per Romans 5:12, the evidence simply doesn’t line up. Unless a Christian can show that there was no death before the advent of homo sapien, the Christian system starts to fall apart. Likewise, Christians explain suffering by way of sin, but again, the Christian has to show that animals before homo sapien couldn’t suffer. Once one considers that human ancestors were probably a lot like us, one quickly realizes that the Christian can’t demonstrate that. While the Christian system he speaks of is internally consistent, i.e. consistent especially if one assumes the truth of their system at the outset (i.e. Van Tillian Presuppositionalism), it isn’t actually consistent. Atheists, unlike Christians, don’t presuppose the truth of an argument or worldview. 

Disease, suffering, and death were on the scene long before any humans existed. Atheists know this and accept it. Rather than think there’s a purpose for suffering, we offer reasons for why people suffer. Viruses and diseases are genetic or contagious. Someone with HIV suffers because they contracted an autoimmune virus that reduces CD4 lymphocytes in the person’s blood. Their immune system becomes compromised and they are then susceptible to other illnesses like pneumonia. If left untreated, HIV can lead to death. 

With respect to so-called origins, atheists have an explanation as well. We don’t think HIV is the result of a first man’s sin. HIV is a virus that evolved over time from the closely related SIV and SIVcpz, which were found in primates in 1989. It’s all much more technical than that and will make for quite the tangent. Atheists can run the same motions with regards to other viruses and diseases, but here’s the kicker: an atheist simply doesn’t have to. 

The Christian’s mistake here is that he’s assuming atheists have to systematize suffering, death, and immorality. We have no such obligation. Ultimately, if atheists choose to, as I briefly demonstrated above, we can do so.

Where the Christian thinks we have common ground is on the following:

With beauty I mean, again, something important. Suppose you were inside the Apostolic Palace – official residence of the Pope – and were taking a tour of the Sistine Chapel. You’re in the main room, and you look up. Suppose another instance that you are viewing Chartres Chapel in France. Suppose another instance that you are listening to St. Matthew’s Passion by Johann Sebastian Bach. Suppose as well that you are reading the Pensées by Blaise Pascal, The Confessions by Augustine or Training in Christianity by Soren Kierkegaard.

Unfortunately, we don’t share this common ground because, again, we don’t accept Christian concepts. The Argument From Beauty, a resoundingly Catholic darling, which sounds strange coming from a Protestant, is like all other arguments for god in that it’s unconvincing. There’s much that can be said to easily refute the argument, but a hard look at reality is all that’s necessary. Sure, there are things atheists find aesthetically pleasing, specifically non-churchy things like the Christian’s list above, but there are probably more things atheists are repulsed by: child abuse, child hunger, pedophilia, animal abuse, deforestation, war, homelessness, and so on. 

We don’t look into the eyes of a child suffering from a terminal illness and see beauty. We don’t read an article about another Catholic priest scandal and see beauty. We don’t imagine the screams of every child who has ever suffered abuse and see beauty. We see a whole lot of ugly in the world that poses quite the problem for Christians. The existence of an omnibenevolent deity and the gratuitous amount of suffering in this world are incongruous; this we call the Problem of Gratuitous Evil and Suffering – which hitherto has not received a sufficient theodicy from Christians. There’s no reason why an omnipotent god can’t intervene when a Catholic priest molests yet another child! There’s no reason why a perfectly good god would choose not to intervene when yet another child dies from childhood leukemia. 

Every theodicy I’ve come across has appealed to sin or even malignant spiritual entities, i.e. Satan and demons. The appeal to sin would mean that their god is unjust for punishing children for the sins of their ancestors. It would be like sentencing someone to two life terms in prison or executing them because their great grandfather was a serial murderer. The appeal to spiritual entities has an evidential problem that I’ll set aside, i.e. they already have trouble proving their god exists, but now they’re talking about other spiritual entities that they can’t prove exist. What’s important here is that, unlike their god, these malignant entities are not omnipotent. If their power is finite compared to that of their god’s, the villains in this story would never win. So either the hero isn’t all-powerful or the hero is indifferent. A bystander who stands idly by when someone needs help, given that they’re human, might not help for fear of their own safety. God, on the other hand, would not be susceptible to bystander effect! An eternal, omnipotent being can’t possibly fear for his safety, so why does your god stand idly by when children suffer!?

Sure, there’s beauty in the world. When I flew over the sands of Tucson, Arizona, I was awestruck. When I got to the top of Kaaterskills Peak, I stared in wonder at the deciduous forest that seemed to stretch endlessly. When I look into the eyes of the woman I love, I see unspeakable beauty. Unlike Christians, however, I take longer looks at the inelegance in the world. The Christian must grapple with how grotesque the world can be and then explain why god allows unfathomable levels of suffering. There is so much more that can be said on the topic of childhood suffering, but for the same reason I chose a sketch of child abuse rather than a picture of a child who’s been abused, I’ll digress because I don’t intend to exploit the suffering of children to make a point. Yet even purported servants of this perfect god increase the suffering of children! 

To talk of morality will make for a much longer letter because some Christians are of the opinion that you can’t even make a simple moral judgment without first providing grounds for morality. I find that to be absolutely ridiculous, apart from being a stipulation the Christian makes for sake of infuriating atheists. Even if I provide grounds for morality, and my older followers on Tumblr know that I certainly can, the Christian will simply wave it away and claim that it isn’t good enough simply because it excludes their god. Or they’ll stick to the comfortable assumption that I must be a relativist or a utilitarian; I am neither.

In any case, Christians, we aren’t obligated to play by your rules! We aren’t obligated to play your word games (think Wittgenstein). We don’t subscribe to or abide by your concepts, most especially sin. Where we do agree is that we have experiences. One shared experience, unless someone lives under rock, is the sheer amount of suffering in the world, especially the suffering of children. If your god exists, you have to grapple with that problem. 

Atheists see a problem that can be solved via providing relief to the impoverished, educational opportunities for people in poverty, reducing income inequality worldwide, advocating for scientific and medical advancements, and so on. We can reduce childhood suffering in a slew of ways. Believing in god and prayer isn’t going to help. Centuries of doing that has accomplished nothing! Theodicies haven’t squared the Problem of Gratuitous Evil and Suffering. The beauty in the world doesn’t cancel out its crudeness. The “inner life” of a Christian or any religious person is of no interest to us because to us, you are either apathetic at worst or naive at best. In either case, your “inner life” is much less mature than the “inner life” of an atheist like myself. 

I’ve been alive for over three decades now. I’ve experienced a lot and have gone through a lot. Some would say it’s a miracle I’ve even retained my sanity. But here I am! I stare at a world that isn’t equal parts beautiful and ugly. I stare at a world that, at the moment, is much uglier than it is beautiful. Overindulgence of what’s beautiful distracts you, makes you less empathetic. Recent research has shown that overly positive, optimistic people lack empathy. Asking atheists to consider beauty is tantamount to asking us to ignore the harsh realities confronting children around the world.

How do I grip you? I have no interest in being your brother in Christ. I believed in this Christ. I can say this without scintilla of doubt: I will never again share your beliefs. It’s not because I’ve “suppressed God in my unrighteousness,” but rather because Christianity, your Christian system, is demonstrably false. The external world confirms this; the “inner life,” when matured and not lulled to sleep by overindulgence in what’s beautiful, also confirms this. 

I would read this to you in hopes that you would someday denounce Christianity. I am more fulfilled now than at any point when I was a Christian. God is a terrible hero, purportedly omnipotent but inconspicuously indifferent or, as atheists would have it, nonexistent. I have become a better hero despite having very limited powers and despite being capable of fearing for my own safety or survival. You can be a hero too! Stop turning a blind eye. Stop demanding grounds for morality that you actually don’t even care to listen to. Stop acting as though there’s a debate. God doesn’t exist and never has and if you want to claim that he does, please do us atheists the favor of explaining why he stands idly by as another child is molested.

Sincerely,

R.N. Carmona

[prettylittlelyres]

This Still Happens: Gordon Benn and Religion

Ffion shrugs Scott's hand off her shoulder and snaps at him. "Don't fucking touch me! And don't tell me how to feel about Gordon disrespecting my God!"

Oh, for fuck's sake. I scoff. "Ffion," I say, as if she's three and I'm thirty-three, "It's only disrespectful if the thing I'm talking about is worthy of respect. Else, it's just called talking."

I've passed 11,000 words on this draft of This Still Happens, and I'm getting near to the end of Chapter Two, which is where things really take an awful turn.

We're seeing a really nasty side to Gordon in this chapter. He's hurting inside, and he's lashing out at other people--mainly Sophie and Ffion so far--because of it. That's in no way OK, and I'm in no way condoning it, but I do think it needs talking about.

As a Queer Catholic, I have a really complicated relationship with God--as do most people--but I've often felt like I can't do the religion thing and be Sapphic. Luckily I've always been aware that being Queer isn't smething I can change--it's just the way I am--so I've never been in such a place where I've tried to "fix" myself in order to feel like a proper Catholic... but its gone the other way. For a long time I felt like I couldn't believe in God, because I was always told to pray for the the homophobic bullying I've experienced to stop... and then it didn't. Instead of blaming the adults I should have been able to trust, I blamed God, and decided I didn't want to know Him.

If He would allow such horrible things to happen, why would I? In later years I've come to realise that it wasn't God who allowed it to happen, but authority figures--teachers, parents--and that God never would allow it to happen.

This is a major reason why I don't believe God to be omnipotent. Omnibenevolent, yes, and omniscient, yes. He knows who I am and He loves me--He made me that way--and He knows what happened... but He couldn't have stopped it. Humans do bad things to each other, and it's gone beyond a level God can control. I hate that, I really do. But it's not God's fault, and through Him I've been able to find better acceptance of myself as a biromantic lesbian, far more than I would ever have found growing up in the house, the town, the environment I grew up in.

My approach to Catholicism is by no means traditional. I don't go to Church, I'm not baptised or confirmed, and I don't believe in the omnipotent God most Catholics--for example, my Grandma--do (did, in Grandma's case, may she rest in peace). But I do feel it gives me a sense of protection, stops me from feeling isolated, and stops me from feeling powerless in times of trouble. I pray at home, I pray at university, and I pray when I'm out and about, for safety and happiness for my friends and me. I feel God in nature, God by the sea, God in the forests where I walk, and I feel better about the world and the people in it. God wants what's best for us, His children, and He would give it to us if we could. But most effort must come from us--people--because there's only so much God can do.

We must be the ones to seek happiness and to create it for other people. We must be kind. We must not lash out, even when we are in pain; that just creates so much more, pushing the world even further from the one God wants us to inhabit.

Gordon takes a different view. and we see that in the way he interacts with Ffion McDade, a Baptist girl in his class, and Sophie Wainwright, his friend of many years, herself a devout Roman Catholic.

"Soph, come on. Be reasonable about this," I say, leaning on my upturned hockey stick as Chris hands out bibs and Sophie pretends to be intrigued by the patchy grass.. "Chris loves you so, so much. Please don't throw that away on my account. I'm OK, I promise. He made a bit of a silly mistake, but, honestly, I think he was just a bit… knocked for six by my coming out. Given time, he'll be every bit as accepting as everyone else. You'll see."

Sophie huffs, and thumps the ground with the curved end of her stick. "That's only part of it," she mutters, "There's a lot more to it than you know, more to it than you can understand. By treating you like crap for being gay—the way God made you, by the way—Chris is saying God made a mistake. And I can't be OK with that, Gordon. You know I can't."

I shrug. "I don't care. I don't believe in God."

"Yeah? Well, I do," Sophie says, hooking her thumb around the chain of her necklace and showing me her crucifix, as if I needed reminding that she's Catholic, like most people in Chase Valley. I'm constantly being reminded of how fucking Catholic everyone is. Pisses me off no end.

Sophie sets her jaw, and speaks through gritted teeth. "So I'm sure you'll forgive me for being uncomfortable with Chris turning his back on you for the way God made you."

I snort with laughter. "I don't think he'll be turning his back on me any time soon, Soph. That's kind of the point."

"For fuck's sake, Gordon, that's my boyfriend you're talking about!" she snaps, putting her hands on her hips and scowling at me with hard black eyes. "Can you try and take this seriously? This isn't easy for me!"

"Fine," I say, "I'm very sorry your boyfriend's a little bit homophobic. But I'm fine. And he's apologised. And he's trying to be better. So I don't know why you're getting so pissed off about all this. It's not like it affects you."

Sophie rolls her eyes and mutters heavenwards. "You have no fucking clue what you're talking about, do you?" she says, turning her eyes back on me.

I shake my head. "Apparently not."

We're seeing everything from Gordon's point of view in Chapter Two. That's the benefit--and the drawback--of the first-person style. Although we get a very clear picture of what Gordon's thinking and feeling, and therefore a better understanding of why he acts the way and does the things he does... we don't get that for other characters, because nor does Gordon. Something we'll learn about Gordon in coming chapters is that he's very set in his ways, very determined to hold onto his views, and little ready to listen to those that differ. He rejects the idea of religion because he thinks it makes people closed-minded, but never stops to think that he himself is closed-minded. And that's his main problem.

Gordon won't see Soph's point of view because it involves a belief in God. What Gordon doesn't know--because nobody has told him, and he's only seeing the world through his own eyes--is that Sophie is bisexual, and has been struggling to reconcile this with her faith. A few days ago, she went to Confession, and confided all this in Father Matthew... expecting ostracism... but finding acceptance. Father Matthew tells her it's OK to be Sapphic, because God made her that way... but Gordon doesn't know. He expects the same rejection of his gayness that Sophie expected for her bisexuality, and because he deliberately steers clear of the Church... which means he never gets to know what is actually being said there.

Much as Gordon might want to think he's super-open-minded due to his militant atheism, he's actually closing his mind off to the idea that there's a higher power who loves him the way he is. While he has no problem accepting himself as gay or anything else--any other aspect of his identity or personality--he creates for himself an extra sense of persecution on top of that which he already experiences as societal homophobia. It's a shame, really. It turns him into this angry person who won't see other people's viewpoints, and picks arguments where there really aren't any.

As a result, he misses out on friendships, pushing people away because he expects them to hate him. And while sometimes he's right about that, he's often wrong. By avoiding talking to Ffion--who is proud to be Christian, proud to be Baptist, and feels at home in her Church--he never gets to know her properly. Unfortunately, Ffion's particular Church community is very scornful of the LGBT Community, and she ends up seeing him in a similar way, as someone to be avoided, and so she too never says a friendly word to him. There's this massive divide between them, created by their expectations of each other, which neither of them can surpass until they start to question those.

Because they're both so closed-minded, they can't do that on their own; it takes the work of their mutual friends and the creation of some desperately horrible circumstances for them each to realise the other isn't so bad. There's a friendship coming out of this, but not for a while.

Gordon has to change dramatically first, just as much as Ffion does. Can he overcome imagined prejudices in order to save and create friendships in the face of real ones?

[mirronx]

My Polytheism

I was browsing around on Wordpress and saw someone write about their polytheism, and it made me feel inspired to talk about my beliefs. https://magickfromscratch.com/2016/08/15/my-polytheism/ is the link I read, as it only feels right to share.

So what is polytheism for me? At its core of course it’s simply a belief in multiple deities. But actually examining what that means, and how it impacts my life, is pretty broad.

A deity, to me, is not omnipotent. Is not omniscient. Omnibenevolent, omnipresent. Traits that I often see associated with the Christian deity don’t really fit to me with the deities that I interact with. With what they aren’t out of the way, it’s still difficult to define what that makes them. They’re spiritual based entities, operating on a different layer than the physical world. They can certainly incarnate, in part or whole, though I strongly doubt the latter happens on anything resembling a regular basis. They exist outside of a linear flow of time, and aren’t really tied to specific physical forms.

More than just the logistics of what spirit life is like though, deities have... feelings, thoughts, motivations, desires. They’re very human in that sense. They aren’t perfect in the sense of “they never make mistakes”, but I would say that their actions are primarily driven by love, at least of the agape variety. They have a lot of experience, a lot of various talents, and they want to help people. I’ll add that for me worship isn’t necessarily something I attribute with what I call deities, nor is it something like... power level. At best it would be something maybe like “authority”, but even that feels poorly defined.

With what they are out of the way, I guess I’ll explore my relationship with them. I believe humans can become deities. Or vice verse. Apotheosis is something that’s in multiple mythologies after all, and to me it makes sense. So I don’t really approach the Gods I work with in a... exceptionally submissive manner. I want to build mutually beneficial relationships, and help where I can. For me, I tend to see it as building a friendship. It’s why offerings are important, as they are expressing that you still want to have that relationship.

I’m... trying not to talk too much. I feel hesitant to continue more, but I want to address what I get out of the relationship, and try to address what I feel the Gods get, though it’s only my beliefs. The Gods are not omnipotent. Fate (which I tend to see as more broadly being the will of the universe, for lack of a better term) can beat them, and all sorts of other things exist. But they help in a lot of ways. My life is better for having them in it, and is very stable I feel at least in part because of them. And I feel I help as well, even if it’s just talking about them or sharing things like this.

I’ll add as a last bit, the Gods are complex. Even with things that are inherently not compatible I believe both and more can be true. So while this is my experience I don’t think it’s absolute, and that isn’t a bad thing. I feel sharing beliefs and experiences even if they aren’t the same is good.

[academicatheism]

A Word on Debates and...Digging

I have to say a word on debates, since some people simply aren’t getting it. I am decided on the god question. I know that there are no gods. In other words, no gods exist. There’s simply no debate to be had. My reasoning is fleshed out in a number of posts and a book, so if you want to know why I boast such certainty, consult those posts or consult my book. If you aren’t convinced, it is likely that your illiteracy is a hindrance; that’s certainly likelier than my reasoning being wrong. As a former believer, this is a question I considered closely and at one point, a question I wanted answered differently. So there’s a lot that’s been said about my transition from desiring one answer and accepting the contrary, i.e., desiring for a god to exist and accepting that there aren’t any.

Illiteracy is a major issue and I see it time and again. The fact is that complex arguments aren’t easily understood. This generation wants answers in a microwave. A question like this has a slow-cooked answer. One has to, in other words, delve deeply into history, science, philosophy, and other fields, and that’s an endeavor few people will make time for; it’s also an endeavor few will devote themselves to. It takes a lot of reading, a lot of questioning, a lot of burrowing into one rabbit hole after another, consulting one expert after another. It’s simply not a simple solve. To adequately answer the question of whether there’s a god, you need to ask whether there’s space for the supernatural in our universe. That question approaches the nature of reality, our apprehension of reality, and whether the human mind is adequate enough to arrive at an answer. 

It takes quite a bit of digging and it’s the sort of digging everyone simply isn’t inherently capable of. It’s clear to me that some people have too poor an IQ and RQ to even grasp the concepts in these fields fully. Put simply, science and philosophy tend to go over some people’s heads, and I’d be lying to say that I have confidence that anyone can understand the relevant subject matter fully enough to apprehend the consequences and entailments of what they come to know. Perhaps the big questions require a sizable intellect, and illiteracy and the lack of raw potential simply close some people off from being able to understand the answers.

I’ve delved deeply for close to seven years now. This isn’t some attempt at ego-stroking because I really couldn’t care less about knowing more than the next person; maturity does that. There are things of greater importance than having more knowledge than someone, knowing more facts than someone. Yet the fact is that I have delved deeper than most people care to, and this has been made painfully apparent in one debate after another, so excuse me if I have come to the conclusion that there are no worthy opponents. 

Here’s the crux! It’s not simply about people’s inferior or lack of knowledge of the relevant topics, it’s that the most eager are simply on the wrong side. What they’re defending isn’t even tenable. It’s not as though we’re sitting down to have a debate about the Copenhagen interpretation versus the Everettian. We are literally debating evolution (science) and creationism (pseudo-science); we are debating the veracity of Catholic “miracles,” which are all demonstrable malarkey and manage to remain unexplained, in some cases, because experts aren’t allowed to study the purported miracle. They often can’t date the relic and consider its chemistry. Or we’re debating whether a given god exists. None of these positions are tenable; they simply don’t come close to being supported by evidence. It’s literally like trying to debate the “merits” of racism; there are no merits! You’re wrong! Want to persist in bullheaded belief? Have at it! But let’s not pretend that you can even defend such a patently ridiculous point of view. 

I’ve matured enough to state it plainly: you’re wrong! And I’m not going to give undue broadcast to your nonsense point of view. It doesn’t deserve a stage with true, more robust views. The question of whether a child-murdering, rape-approving, human sacrificing, genocidal war god exists isn’t a philosophical question. Theists often try to conflate this ridiculous deity with philosophical concepts, but any honest consideration will see how divergent the concepts are. You can’t even begin to argue that such a deity is perfectly moral and just. You can’t even begin to argue that a clumsy deity is omniscient, that such a powerless deity is omnipotent. 

An omniscient deity would think of a better way than human sacrifice to save humanity; such a deity would foresee every possible road of ruin and prevent them from taking shape. The so-called god of the philosophers simply isn’t the Judeo-Christian god, and is, at bottom, a fancy of human idealization. The concept is nothing more than humanity writ large, a purely human ideal in where a human person exceeds all of his limitations. Where humans are limited in knowledge, power, presence, control, lawful and moral judgment, time, and so on, the god of the philosophers is unlimited in every category, omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent, sovereign, just, omnibenevolent, timeless, and so on. The narrative of how anthropology subsumes theology has somehow been lost in Westernized philosophy of religion and has convinced legions of fools that they are somehow studying a higher concept that might exist within and beyond the universe. No! You are studying your basest vanity and conceit.

Religion is pure fiction; faith is nonsense that I’ll no longer entertain in dead-end debates with obstinate fools. There are a long list of such fools touting unearned certainty in one false view after another. It’s an absolute bore. Never mind the very public chagrin such people are made to suffer. And that’s the part I really don’t understand. The interlocutors that message me sometimes are like people with no fighting experience asking to fight with a trained MMA fighter in a world where there’s no such thing as luck. In other words, in the past, I might have indulged you and allowed you to step foot in the ring knowing full-well the embarrassment you’d suffer shortly after. Now it makes no sense. There’s nothing entertaining about a fight I know I’ll win, hence why my debates are philosophical in nature. 

We can debate actual science and philosophy. Challenge my philosophy of mind! Call my portrait of naturalism incomplete. Try to make me abandon the Everettian interpretation of quantum mechanics. Try to convince me that there isn’t life on other planets. These are discussions I’m willing to have. But discussions on whether your pet theory god exists? I’ve moved well beyond that question. Never mind that it’s a question you can ask yourself and answer for yourself should you dare to dig. 

Go dig! I can do the digging for you and throw you down the hole and the sheer depth of the drop will prove enough to scare you. Make your own hole and go at your own pace. Trust me, its better than me hoisting you in at breakneck speeds.