#mormon truth claims

[wasmormon]

Brian Was a Mormon, an Ex-Mormon Profile Spotlight

[trberman]

10 Lies Anti Mormons Attempt to Peddle as Facts and Truths  @AnEx-MormonInformant ​

In this off-the-cuff video, the Latter-day Saint Cowboy Apologist takes on the so-called “10 Lies Mormons Tell Themselves”—a collection of poorly crafted criticisms, deceptions, and anti-LDS tropes peddled by apostates and critics as supposed “facts.” These arguments, riddled with strawman fallacies and manipulative rhetoric, are flipped on their head as we reveal the real lies apostates and…

[moviecritc]

✦ ˚ : · HAUNTED LUNGS ⋆ MARK GRAYSON, INVINCIBLE 🌀

CHAPTER ONE, JUST A GIRL

pairing ☆ mark grayson x fem!reader

word count ☆ 4.5K

summary ☆ your demon sends you on a mission to find a lost soul, and you also meet mark grayson for the first time

warnings ☆ in the masterlist

SYNOPSIS | NEXT CHAPTER

series masterlist | main masterlist | letterboxd

Your whole body feels heavy. You're scared to open your eyes, but when you do, you find yourself alone between four black walls. You take a couple of steps, hesitant. You shouldn’t have moved at all. Soon, everything is on fire. The walls, the floor, your hands — but it doesn’t burn.

You see a shadow with curly, voluminous hair, and when you can finally make out who it is, the fire starts to burn.

Your back is on fire. Your hands are falling apart. You try to reach her. You hear her scream. It's always the same.

“Help me! Why are you leaving?”

Her voice tears at your throat, and the pain increases, carving a deep, dark hole in your chest.

But none of it is real. At least, not now.

You wake up suddenly, a French fry stuck to your cheek and your eyeliner smudged.

“We're closing.”

You sigh, brushing the hair from your face and peeling off the fry. You look at the girl who served you half an hour ago. She stands with her arms akimbo, waiting for you to get up and leave.

“Aren’t you like McDonald’s? You know, the one that never closes?” Your accent tangles every word.

She blinks. She clearly doesn’t want to have a conversation. It’s past nine, and she has an exam tomorrow.

“No,” she says simply. “So please, again, I’m asking you to go.”

You grimace, leaning on your elbow. You glance at your tray, melted ice cream, and cold fries. You sigh again and smack your hands on the table.

“Fine,” you nod, lips tight. “But you guys should really consider staying open all night. It's fun coming at 3 a.m.”

The worker just blinks and lets you leave without another word.

It’s cold outside. You moved to Chicago less than a year ago, after some Mormons nearly burned you for leading their best devotees astray. Returning to the city hadn’t been easy, and getting a job was even harder.

Catholicism is in decline, exorcisms out of fashion. Now people prefer manifesting, listening to subliminal audio. Cheap witchcraft.

You don’t like calling yourself a witch. That word belongs to the women they murdered in Salem. You prefer conjurer, paranormal detective, magic user or some other delusion like that.

You pull out the last cigarette from your coat and light it. The pink lighter stands out against your all-black outfit. Loose suit pants, a satin blouse with the top two buttons undone, and a long black coat. Even your loafers are black. Sometimes you top it off with black sunglasses or a black tie.

You could open a portal home with a flick of your wrist. But today is special. Every February 3rd is. You keep walking through the Chicago suburbs until He appears.

Not He as in Jesus. That one’s probably too scared to show himself to you. And not He as in Satan. You haven’t had the pleasure of meeting him yet.

But your particular demon.

You imagine him like a guardian angel, except instead of protecting you, he just makes everything worse.

He only shows himself when he wants to — at least once a year, when he needs something from you. And today is the anniversary.

It was on a February 3rd, nineteen years ago, that he decided to claim your soul, after you’d been rejected by dozens of demons. He felt like a charity case, adopting the poor soul of a wide-eyed, soft-cheeked girl.

He’s a shadow to you. An idea of a man. He takes different forms that might appeal to you, but never quite gets it right. So now, he just shows up as an average guy.

“You're a bit late, aren’t you?” You speak softly, knowing he can hear you perfectly.

Truth is, he can hear you all the time. He just doesn’t bother. There are other souls to annoy.

“So eager to see me?”

He appears beside you, dressed like any man you’d pass on the street, making you feel ridiculous in all black.

Now he’s blond with blue eyes. Last year, he was dark-haired with eyes so black they frightened you. Now he looks like an idiot.

But the face is always the same. The expressions too. And the fear he makes you feel—unchanged.

“No. You know I never want to see you.”

He can do anything he wants with you. You’re his. Your mother sold you. Didn’t even sell you—gave you away.

He steps in too close as you walk and whispers with a knife in his voice:

“You smell like greasy fast food.”

You roll your eyes, extinguishing your cigarette and stopping cold.

“Tell me, do these yearly visits mean anything or are they just to remind me that you’ll torment me forever?”

His laugh is instant. He snaps his fingers and conjures a bench for you both to sit.

“Both,” he says, draping an arm over the backrest without touching you. He looks at you, eyes shifting hue. “You’re still dreaming of her.”

You try to stand immediately. At least, you try. He’s tied you to the bench with a black thread around your waist. You clench your jaw without answering, but you know you’ll have to speak eventually.

“Yes,” you spit without looking at him. “Some of us cursed souls still have feelings.”

“Do you count yourself among them?” He challenges. “The same girl who left a chil—”

“Shut up!” You shout, trying to break free with a spell, knowing it’s useless. He’ll always be stronger.

Cursed. That’s what they call people who sold their soul for personal gain. Even if you didn’t make the deal yourself, your soul still belongs to him.

“She’s waiting for you,” He says your name like a slur. “You know it. If you surrender to me, you can be with her again.”

“Liar.” You spit at his shoe — it doesn’t even land. “There are ways to bring people back. It’s been done to me.”

“You’re wrong,” He clicks his tongue and lets you go.

He knows about the three times you’ve died. Three times he made sure you came back — to keep you from reuniting with the one you longed for.

“I won’t surrender to you,” You say through gritted teeth.

He smiles — a slow smile, every muscle in his face stretching just to mock you.

“Not yet,” he murmurs, standing from the bench. His form flickers for a moment, like sticky smoke in the icy breeze. “But the day will come, little one. And you’ll beg for it.”

You meet his eyes, though every fiber in your body screams to look away. Seeing him is like staring into a bottomless pit and feeling something inside you want to jump.

“So that’s why you came? For your annual threats, then poof?”

But he tilts his head, eyes shifting again — now a flat gray that reminds you of the sky before a storm.

“This year is different,” he says, stepping close enough for you to feel the cold radiating off him. “You owe me a favor. One that can’t wait another three hundred sixty-five days.”

Your stomach tightens.

“No.” The word comes before you even know what he wants. “I don’t do favors for demons anymore.”

His laugh is low and rough, echoing against the windows on the empty street.

“It’s not a favor, child. It’s in the contract.” He snaps his fingers again, and a charred piece of parchment floats between you. Your mother’s signature, crooked and shaky, shines in red ink — her own virgin blood. “I’m here to collect.”

You swallow hard. Your wind-chilled hands begin to sweat.

“What do you want?” Your voice is hoarse. Not because you want to know — because you have to.

He smiles, and for a moment, his teeth look far too numerous to be human.

“I want you to find someone. A soul that’s… gone missing.” He wrinkles his nose like the word disgusts him. “A soul that shouldn’t be in this plane. And if you don’t bring it to me, others will. But they won’t be as... kind as you.”

You clench your fists.

“Who?”

He smiles, pleased, and his voice slips into your ear like hot oil.

“Her name is Odessa. Odessa Wolf.”

You know that name by heart. Your mind flies back five years. You were fourteen. Odessa was thirteen. You were stuck in that awful convent in Ireland, and she was your only friend. The only one untouched by contracts.

“It can’t be,” you whisper.

Odessa was like an angel in the storm — beautiful even back then — and your first love. Or so you thought. What did a fourteen-year-old know of love?

You never imagined she’d sell her soul. And especially not to him.

“No,” you murmur, shaking your head. “It can’t be her. You won’t use her against me.”

He shrugs.

“I’m not using her. I’m giving you a chance. Bring her to me before the next full moon, and I swear on all the fires of Hell that I’ll leave her alone.” He smiles, like he’s offering you a fair deal. “But if you don’t… others will find her. And believe me, none of them will be so generous.”

You taste blood from clenching your teeth so hard.

Odessa.

The girl you left behind when you turned sixteen and went out on your own.

“Where is she?” You finally ask, voice ashes in your throat.

He smiles again. But this time, there’s no humor — only triumph.

“In Chicago. Just like you.”

And with a blink, he’s gone — leaving behind the stench of sulfur… and something worse.

Hope.

You stand there in the middle of the empty street, hands trembling, knowing you’ve just sealed your fate.

Around two months earlier

Mark had no idea why, in the middle of a crisis, Cecil had sent him to find a girl. Literally, just a girl. He’d handed him a card with an address and a name—yours—and wished him luck.

In the heart of Chicago, wedged between two brutalist buildings, stood a gothic-style house with a dark brown facade, crawling ivy, and a sort of tower on one side. It looked like mist clung to it.

Mark wore his Invincible suit, but that didn’t ease the discomfort knotting in his stomach as he climbed the steps slowly. He knocked twice. No answer. Peered through the window—no sign of life. He flew up to check the upper windows and then the back garden, overgrown and unkempt. Still, nothing.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” shouted a voice from the kitchen.

Mark jumped. You must have slipped in while he was circling the house.

“Cecil sent me,” he said, landing in the garden.

Through the glass door, he saw you lock the back door and take off your jacket. You were dressed entirely in black, eyes wide. Young—maybe his age or a year older. Why would Cecil want someone so… ordinary?

“Why? I already told that old man I wasn’t going to work for him,” you snapped, setting a kettle on the stove.

That’s when Mark noticed the accent—British? Irish? He wasn’t sure. Your dismissal irritated him. Cecil had been clear: they needed you.

“Can you let me explain what’s happening?” he raised his voice, though the glass muffled him.

You leaned against the window, studying him. The suit was ridiculous, that bright yellow clashing with his messy hair. Still, you had nothing better to do.

You yanked open the door and gave him a closer look. Same age, maybe older, hard to tell behind the mask.

“Looks like Cecil updated his roster,” you said mockingly. “He used to send cranky old immortals.”

Mark chuckled. The inside was simple—walls lined with bookshelves, jars, little figurines. A headless crucifix on the wall. The rug was purple and threadbare. Ashtrays scattered on every table, yellow lamps casting a soft glow.

“Immortal’s a grump who doesn’t take orders,” Mark stepped closer. Still uncertain what you were. Human? Something more? He had no clue.

You turned your back to him. The all-black clothing didn’t reveal much of your shape, but the pants… Mark looked at the ceiling. God, Mark, you have a girlfriend.

You spun around suddenly, leaning on the counter with your tea. “Are you going to tell me what you're doing here or just stand there like a mannequin?”

Mark blinked. “A being emerged from the ground near Evanston. I managed to contain it, but now we don’t know what to do with it. Cecil said you were the only one who could send it back.”

Your brows shot up halfway through his explanation.

“You contained a demon?” you pointed at him, clearly not buying it.

Even for you, some demons were slippery—hard to subdue even with practice. But this guy? No scratch, no curse? Strange.

You could feel he was untouched. No curse, no contact with the underworld. He probably didn’t even know it existed.

You stepped closer, suspicious. “Who are you?”

Your voice curled around the words, accent thickening.

“Invincible,” he said. But that wasn’t the answer you wanted.

“Who are you really?” you pressed, eyes narrowing again.

“Invincible.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping back. Of course he wouldn’t tell you. Boys in masks and secrets. Typical.

“I could disintegrate your mask in two seconds,” you warned, crossing your arms.

Mark clicked his tongue, unimpressed. Matter manipulation was something only Eve could do. No way there were two people like that. Foolish thought.

You took it as a challenge. “You mocking me, mannequin?”

You snapped your fingers. A spark flared. His mask disintegrated, burning away in mid-air.

“HEY! What the hell did you do?!” he shouted, backing up, breath quickening.

You laughed. It was dumb, but you remembered him. He served you a few times at the burger place. His face and name had stuck.

Mark inhaled deeply. Even his father had never been able to remove the mask. But you? You did it effortlessly.

“With another snap, I could guess your name,” you teased, just to see the horror on his face. “So don’t laugh at me again, Mark Grayson.”

“…How?” he stopped short. “Who are you? What do you do?”

You set the tea down, hopped back on the counter, feet swinging.

“Want a demonstration?”

You didn’t wait. You were already conjuring, a spell spilling from your lips. The portal opened in the middle of the living room—a ring of flame cutting through the floor.

Mark leapt back as it began to glow with a dull red light, like embers ready to burst. The hum wasn’t sound—it was a thought, pressing into the base of his skull.

“Are you a witch?” he asked, fists raised as if that would help.

You didn’t reply. Your eyes darkened, pupils swallowing the irises. Hair lifted by invisible wind. Symbols beneath your feet rotated, aligning with unnerving precision. The flames burst upward—tall, orange, but cold. A dead fire.

“Shut it off!” Mark cried, stepping back, sweat running down his back under the suit. His arms bristled with goosebumps, his gut churned. This wasn’t tech. This wasn’t science. It was something older. Wrong.

“This is where your demon came from, mannequin,” you said, voice low, reverberating.

“Okay, okay!” he shouted. “I got the message—you can shut it down!”

You paused, listening to something distant. Screams, perhaps. Then shook your head, dismissing them, and closed the portal with a flick.

You smiled. “Did you like it?”

“No!” he practically yelled. “You’re a witch!”

He pointed at you, horrified.

“Conjurer,” you corrected, lips pursed.

You watched him with amusement, your eyes still faintly glowing from the spell. Mark couldn’t stop staring at the floor, where the summoning circle had been. It still shimmered faintly with heat.

“You… do that all the time?” he asked, still pointing. “That’s your way of greeting?”

“Only to people who mock me,” you replied, turning back to your tea. “And you didn’t give me much choice. You wanted a demonstration, right?”

“I nearly threw up.”

“Well, at least you didn’t do it on the rug,” you said without looking.

Mark wiped his face, still trying to process it all. The air smelled like sulfur and scorched wood. He looked toward the door.

“Okay, we need to go. I can fly us to the GDA headquarters. It’s faster and—”

“Fly?” you interrupted, like he’d just suggested a tricycle. One arched brow. You sighed. “No style.”

Then, with another flick of your hand, you cut the air in front of you, like slicing invisible fabric. A glowing rift opened, showing the cold steel walls of the GDA base.

Mark stepped back instinctively.

“How…?”

You shrugged.

“I’ve been there. I remember the space. I fold it and open a portal. No need to ruin my hair.”

He tried to connect a few thoughts.

“Are you like… thousands of years old?”

You laughed at his disbelief.

“Turned nineteen a few months ago,” you said. “If you think I’m powerful, you should see the ones who've studied this stuff for decades.”

You both stared at the portal. He hesitated. You waited.

“After you,” said the man in the suit.

You smiled and stepped through like it was your own kitchen.

Mark exhaled. Then followed.

Cecil was waiting, arms crossed, wearing that usual air of condescension. You hated this place. All that money and tech wasted here, when so many others could use it.

“Well,” Cecil said, “I’m surprised you came.”

You sighed, nodded toward Mark. He lowered his head like a scolded child.

“Thank the mannequin and his lack of subtlety,” you muttered, striding forward without waiting. “Where is it?”

As you walked, Cecil explained how a group of teens had played with a Ouija board and accidentally opened a portal. Your sigh was sharp and tired.

“A Ouija demon. Great,” you clicked your tongue. Mark gave you a confused glance. “No decent demon is hanging around a Ouija board. That thing scrapes the surface of Hell. Bottom-feeders with nothing better to do.”

“Is that… good or bad?” Mark asked.

“Means it’s going to be a pain in the ass, but it shouldn’t be hard to send back,” you nodded. Then turned to Cecil. “Is the portal closed?”

Cecil nodded slowly.

“Yes… but it left behind a scar. Something strange. GDA sensors keep picking up unstable activity.”

You frowned.

“Unstable how? Something trying to come back?”

“We don’t know. Could be a rift, or magical residue, or both,” Cecil said, guiding you through metal corridors. “But we can’t contain it with our tech.”

You walked beside Mark, irritation building.

“Then why call me?” you snapped. “This sounds more like your problem.”

“Because you know how to truly seal things,” Cecil said. “And this demon… it doesn’t seem to want to leave.”

“Let’s go see it.”

Cecil opened the doors. Soldiers surrounded a containment field—a cage laced with red lasers. The demon inside wasn’t humanoid like Jaxoth. Reddish, glowing eyes, horns, and barely half Jax’s height. Its spine jutted visibly, curled and hunched.

“What the hell are you doing?” you demanded, walking closer. The creature bared yellowed teeth. “These lasers don’t hold you—why don’t you escape?”

You dropped your bag in the corner, glanced at Mark—just a flicker—then returned your focus to the demon.

“It’s looking for you.”

A chill ran down your spine. It knew your name. That could only mean the summoning had been intentional.

The air thickened. Your sarcasm vanished.

“Who summoned you?” you asked, voice dry and quiet.

The demon tilted its head. Its horns nearly touched the laser grid.

“No one,” it said. “No one alive.”

You stepped forward, broke the laser field with a pulse of magic, and suspended the creature in the air, your fist clenched, a column of fire holding it still.

“You’re lying,” you growled. “You’re going back to Hell like the wretched thing you are.”

“Are you sure I’m the only wretched one here?”

The ground trembled beneath your feet. You whispered words that belonged to no human language, a blend of sharp-edged syllables and choked echoes. Your palms clapped together, and a reddish glow burst from the contact, spreading like burning veins across the metallic floor, devouring the artificial patterns of the base with something that felt far too organic—too alive.

You kept whispering, and the creature screamed, recognizing the formula.

The soldiers backed away, some raising their weapons out of pure reflex, but they knew it was useless. The air turned heavy, oppressive, as if every sin humanity had ever committed gathered in that room. An invisible crack split open just beneath the suspended demon. It wasn’t like the portals you used to travel. This one was different. It was wrong. A wound. And it bled black light.

The flames didn’t rise—they fell from above, as if the sky itself had broken. They fell silently, consuming all sound. Only the heartbeats of the people remained. And then, a scream.

Distant.

Desperate.

You froze. The voice came again:

"It burns!"

The spell faltered. The embers wavered. The demon smiled, bloodied but triumphant.

"You hear her, don’t you?" the creature whispered.

"Shut up," you growled, teeth clenched. The heat surged again in your chest, wild and magical, but your pulse trembled.

You dropped to your knees. Mark stepped forward instinctively.

"What is it? Who is she?"

You stretched out your arms and the flames rose again—stronger, more alive. They began to consume the demon from the feet upward, erasing him, reducing him to ash and memory.

The demon screamed, this time without pretense. It writhed, shattered, and vanished in a final burst of infernal light, swallowed by the gaping wound in the earth.

The portal slammed shut, leaving behind a suffocating silence, as if the room had been drained of oxygen.

You didn’t collapse only by miracle, and once you steadied yourself, you pushed your way toward Mark.

"You heard her," you said—half question, half threat. Then you turned to Cecil. "Did you hear her?"

Cecil slowly shook his head. He hadn’t picked up any woman’s voice besides yours. You shoved Mark again.

"Why did you hear her?" Your voice cracked with something close to panic. Mark saw it in your gestures, in your voice, and in the glassy sheen of your eyes. "Answer me, Mark Grayson!"

"I don’t know!" he shouted, gripping your wrists—not harshly, just enough to hold you. "I just heard her... like she was speaking inside my head. I don’t know who she was."

You struggled at first, your eyes filled with a rage that had nowhere to go. But you stilled when you realized he wasn’t fighting you. He just wanted to hold you back, contain you... protect you. That unsettled you more than any spell.

"No one else heard her," said Cecil gravely, keeping his distance. "Only you and him."

You turned to him with your jaw clenched but said nothing. You looked back at Mark. Your eyes no longer burned—they were dark, wet wells. Your body trembled slightly.

"That shouldn’t be possible," you murmured.

"Who was she?" Mark asked softly, barely daring to.

You closed your eyes. Swallowed. Gently pulled your hands from his.

"You have no idea what you’ve done," you whispered. You turned, walked a few steps, and collapsed into a metal chair in the corner of the room, curling in on yourself. "You weren’t supposed to hear her. No one was."

"Was she... a child?" he asked, sitting in front of you, cautiously.

"It doesn’t matter!" you snapped, suddenly rising again as if you’d never sat down. "The job is done. Watch the rift in case it opens again—and don’t ever call me back."

[the-sparrows-providence]

Idk about anyone else but the whole yakuza-owned made up sports team with ties to the Baltimore mob always heightened my suspension of disbelief through the series, especially when it came to anything that happened in the Nest. But taking an actual look at it, the “cult” aspect of the Ravens is actually probably the most believable part of the whole series.

Not to be a true crime stereotype but when comparing them to irl cults, they check nearly every box:

Single (unstable) figurehead as the ultimate source of truth and power? Check.

Complete control over every aspect of member’ lives? Check.

Constant surveillance to assert even more control, usually by forcing members to stay in one location? Check.

Additional surveillance by always being with at least one other member to keep each other in check and to prevent disobedience by threat of being reported (Mormonism)? Check.

Figurehead has hand-picked “inner circle”? The Perfect Court is a Check.

Causing extreme exhaustion via food-restriction and sleep deprivation (re: Jonestown & Scientology) making members even more susceptible to control? Check.

Public humiliation and punishment? Check.

Sowing doubt and mistrust among members to prevent solidarity forming against the figurehead and to encourage reporting other members via McCarthyism-esc system? Check.

Creating financial dependency so members aren’t able to even afford their own food & clothing? Check.

Isolating members from their friends and family to create a dependency on the cult as their sole support network and community? Check.

Devotion to the group causing members being willing to sacrifice themselves to the cause? Check.

Harassment intimidation and violence against members who manage to escape? Check.

Targeting vulnerable individuals? Yeah I’d consider 18-19 year old kids living away from home and family for the first time ever as pretty fkn vulnerable. Check.

Normalized sexual abuse? Check.

Using sexual abuse as another method of punishment and control? Check.

Usually a figurehead with internalized homophobia (Jim Jones claimed to be the only “truly straight man” while simultaneously sleeping with raping the male members of his inner circle)? I mean have you seen Riko? Check.

Another thing: unless they’re born into the cult, most members choose to join. Usually via manipulation, scare tactics, and lies and trying to escape later is another story, but joining is still a choice. And most Ravens choose to stay. Except for Jean and Kevin. They had no choice, literal property with no one to protect them and physically no way to leave.

Which is why I always found Abby’s “My Foxes chose to fight back.” to be insanely cruel.

Bc Jean couldn’t fight back. He was sold to a cult, which are extremely effective in breaking the willpower of even the people who chose to be there. Fighting back would have literally killed him.

Idk where I was trying to go with this but I think all of this is one of the reasons my heart breaks for Jean more than any other character.

[boycarofchilladelphia]

My friend, I can promise you the mormon church is far closer to most hate groups than it is to any standard religion. Both its formation and current rhetoric rely on the control of its members both in thought and action. The doctrine is based on the racist notion that it is the true history of the First Nations peoples of America and asserts that they were actually Jews escaping Jerusalem, a claim that only exists within the Book of Mormon and is refuted by dna evidence and ethnographic studies. The original text of the book of mormon (before the many rewrites) wrote that people would become white and delightsome (meaning of lighter skin) and that only those with white skin would be allowed into heaven. There have been passages describing the Nephites as white and Lamenites as darker skinned as they were blackened by the mark of cain. There are people who have been told that same thing and tried to pray away their dark skin. The entire rhetoric of the mormon church relies on people believing they are better than everyone else, that they alone know the secret truths that will get them into the celestial kingdom and become gods, that they alone look upon a world of filth and decay praying for the day that judgement finally dawns, that they alone know the true history of the native peoples of the Americas because they have simply "forgotten" the truth as they purged the only true believers from the land. You DO believe in a religion that thinks themselves higher than the world with sacred knowledge based on a lie of supposed great and lost people you are uniquely descended from. You play into this by ranking the supposed accuracy of claims against your church without even knowing the real history and formation of its conception. You uphold this same attitude as if other just are misinformed or just stupid while talking down to them like they're a child. You uphold this bastard churches ideals with your own hubris thinking its kindness. There is a reason as to why people view this church as a cult at best and breeding ground for fascist at worst. There is a reason why there was a cosplayer of Captain Moroni at the January Sixth Insurrection.

I know this will fall on deaf ears, I know that I shouldn't write this for my own mental health, but I also know what the mormon church did to me and many of my friends. I can't just let this slide. I owe it to myself to tell you what I wish someone would've told me. This church is nothing but a deeply racist, misogynist mess based in a fascist dream. I hope you will one day understand and find a better path. I would wish for nothing more than for you to read this out and internalize but I know better. I can only hope this softens your heart. I wish the best for you and your future, but not for your church. I hope one day you will take this for the olive branch that it is for your own sake.

Have a good life.

Before I dive into this ask, I gotta say, I was beginning to worry that I would never get anon hate on this site. Bless you for taking the time to brighten my day a little.

Anyway, in all seriousness, it's obvious that you and your friends have been deeply hurt by the Church. I can't apologize for the Church, but I can say that I'm personally so sorry that happened to you and your friends. I can only imagine how hard your life must have been to get to this point, and it says volumes about you that you're willing to try and prevent that harm in a stranger's life. I admire that dedication to kindness and truth, so thank you, truly, for the kind intentions you have.

There's a lot here, so I probably won't address it all piece by piece, but I'll mostly say that you're not wrong. I think my biggest clarification I would make here is that the doctrine is not "based" on the Book of Mormon (in all of its imperfections) at all; it's based on the Atonement of Jesus Christ and his Gospel and the desire for our Heavenly Father to have us all back in His loving arms.

But I promise I'm not cherry-picking one detail in order to throw out your entire argument! The modern Church, in many ways, does rely on control of thought and action of its members. Do they usually do it in the name of inspiration from God? Yup. Does that make it any better? Well, depends on whether you believe in that inspiration or not, but I digress. Moving on: the Book of Mormon being both subtly and bluntly racist, even with some of the kindest readings I've seen? Yeah, friend, I know. Its historicity being unsupported by literally all the current scholarly data we have? Yeah, I know that too. The Church actively teaching false racist lies for MANY years, and even today failing to altogether purge them from their members' teachings and hearts? I know about that, too. And yes, there are significant problems with the Church's attitude towards, history of, and rhetoric about native peoples; I'm not denying that. And we're not even gonna start into the mistreatment, mischaracterization, and downright falsities the Church holds onto when it comes to the LGBTQ+ communities; let's just say I am painfully aware, though I would never wish to be unaware of any of the truths you've mentioned.

Long story short, I'm not denying the very obvious problems that have arisen, and continue to arise, from the failures of men (and while I use that term for mankind, let's be honest; it's usually white men anyway) to teach accurately and correctly the doctrine of Christ. My own testimony is not based in blind submission, nor is it a parroting of rhetoric that I have heard. I have struggled with pretty much every single thing you've mentioned or alluded to on this list, and yet I managed, by the literal Grace of God, to come out on the other side with my faith intact; I do not reject the Church for its imperfections, but I refuse to ignore them as well. My faith does not mean I agree with the Church without reservation. My faith does not mean I obey without question. My faith does not mean that I accept, condone, or apologize for the sins of centuries of Christians regarding the role of faith in their lives. All it means is that I have received a witness through the Holy Spirit that, at least for now, this is the place I need to be. That's not based on physical evidence, a rewriting of ugly history/teachings(past and present), or any sort of dedication to imperfect people.

I'm sorry my ranking felt like I was dismissing your concerns or talking down to you; I never meant for either of this things to be true. It was meant to be a playful discussion more than a full refutation of misinformation, but it sounds like I may have failed in both goals simultaneously, and I take full responsibility for the hurt that it caused you.

That's pretty much everything I feel like I need to say in response to your ask, and I apologize again if my somewhat flippant intro put you off; one of my many flaws is that I try and inject levity into many serious situations. But, if you're interested in some critical thinking exercises, I will gladly hit you with a few thought questions:

If we believe in being better than everyone else because of our temple covenants, as you alluded to, why would we have those temple covenants as the goal for every person from all of history? Why would we actively bring others to the temple, both living and dead, in order to have those ordenances performed for as many of our brothers, sisters, and any others that have ever existed*?

If the Church is more of a hate group than "standard religions", why did the scriptural Jesus Christ never preach that hate? Could it be that the Church is a product of imperfection, racism, and misogyny folded together throughout the years, and that even in spite of those glaring problems, 17 million people globally have, at one time or another found a measure of peace and belonging in Christ's teachings from that very Church? That isn't to say that we should accept the Church without judgement; we can do so much better than just 17 million people, especially as soon as we shirk these dangerous ideals taught by the mouths of imperfect men.

Is it possible for good and evil to co-exist in a church, especially this Church? Is it possible that a perfect God can create an imperfect Church? We could go back and forth on relative good done versus relative evil, but that's more a matter of opinion than it is data. But is it at all possible that there are no simple, black-or-white answers? Might I gently suggest that you're falling victim to the same binary good-or-bad thinking that the Church taught you, just now on the side of "the Church is all bad and therefore cannot do good"?

None of these questions are here to say you're wrong; I cannot ultimately make that judgement because I don't know what the Spirit has or hasn't witnessed to you. It could be that you feel the Spirit has told you to completely abandon the Church because of all of its flaws; that's okay. It could be that you deny the very existence of the Spirit and think that I'm fooling myself into staying in a cult; that's okay, too. But you cannot outright deny the witness I have received based on your own witness, perception, or opinion. And generalizing that opinion/perception/witness to claim that I ignore the Church's faults or somehow am an apologetic for them or even that I'm ignorant of them? Well, that's an assumption you made based on your own reasoning, experiences, and thoughts; I can assure you that I have come face to face with many horrors and misdeeds attributed to and caused by the Church, including harmful doctrines and attitudes in my own life and behavior, and frankly I don't expect that I've encountered them all. And yet, for now, I believe.

*: Yeah, there's a very legitimate argument to be made that the temple doesn't let LGBTQ+ people access the same blessings as non-LGBTQ+ members; I totally agree that is a problem that NEEDS to be fixed for us to have any sort of claim of being followers of Christ at the judgement. I am speaking in idealized terms here, for sure, and I recognize that.

[2pen2wildfire]

While I'm on the topic, can we talk about how bullshit bishop's interviews are? Like specifically for temple recommends.

Consider: you do something that, in the eyes of the church, is a sin. Say, you share a gay kiss with someone or read smut on your iPad in the dark. Now you're in the bishop's office being interviewed for your recommend. You need this recommend, because if you don't have it, your parents are going to want to know why, and under no circumstances can you tell them what you did to make yourself unworthy.

So you lie. You've been a model Mormon child. You have no interest in homosexuality or pornography or masturbation or fornication, you're sexually pure. And the bishop says Okay and gives you your recommend. Yay! You're safe!

Now I can't help but ask: if the church were true, how would this be possible? Isn't the bishop meant to have a connection to God? Shouldn't he know that I'm lying? I mean, this is the TEMPLE we're talking about! God's special holy place! I feel like he'd be a little more concerned with keeping unworthy people out of it, don't you think? I baptised sooooooooo many dead people before going home and fucking my partner, wouldn't that render all those baptisms invalid? Wouldn't they want to avoid that?

Of course! But what they use to avoid that outcome isn't any sort of genuine divine intervention, it's just plain old-fashioned guilt tripping. They make you feel bad, for sinning and lying about it and falsely baptising all those poor souls in spirit prison. Hopefully if you feel bad enough about it, you'll come clean, and they'll claim that the Holy Spirit must have impressed upon you to tell the truth.

It's all just bullshit.

[vicetrevni]

Angel from Clinical Trial isn’t a girl. They’re nonbinary. The creator of the game posted a comic taking place after the True End and it refers to Angel as “spouse”

Not to be rude or dismissive here.

But has the creator actually come out and said it's true one way or the other?

I haven't really seen Angel be referred to with gender neutral pronouns (I'll have to rewatch the game for this just to see), but I don't like seeing other people say such things are 'canon' without solid proof especially when the creator hasn't clearly verified it either way. So for now, please refrain from saying such things unless you can provide solid proof of your claims.

Obviously, context clues are important - for example, it's a smart idea for the creator to show Lee is Ex-Mormon by saying what SubReddits he'd frequent and one is the r/exmormons subreddit (I always thought he was Ex-Christian tbh so it's cool to know as a side little tidbit into his past without having to over-explain that in the story). And it's done in a way that gives more insight to him as a character without going into heavy detail or take away from the story, yes it is important but not so much to go into heavy detail.

But that is different from using gendered specific language.

Angel might just like being called 'spouse' without any other context, so to assume she is automatically non-binary for it is honestly very ignorant. And, in my own experiences, even if Angel is non-binary she seems fine with being referred to with female pronouns regardless (which is fine bc IRL I don't care about that much either so I can see it being the case here). So, again, unless the creator comes out and says 'yeah Angel is *insert gender pronouns here*' I'm holding off on believing this is 100% true.

I hope this makes sense, because I am honestly tired of people saying these things are 'canon' without any hard proof from the creator saying it either way (just fyi I don't have twitter and never will so I'm not always privy to what the creator has revealed about Angel or Lee over there). Headcanons are fine obviously, but if a character is not the typical 'cis straight' type you have to be very clear or it causes issues that lead to these sorts of unnecessary debates.

So next time, please just give a screenshot or link along with what you're saying. It'll really help me fact check whatever you're debating about (again I do not nor will ever have Twitter so if you are telling the truth just give me proof to find or I'm going to wait and see if the creator confirms/denies any of this).

[gecko-in-a-can]

#1 of the ask game!

#1. the character everyone gets wrong.

Ok I know I’m a Benny lover blog, so people would expect me to say him, but no. I have a much bigger grievance.

JOSHUA GRAHAM. I say this as a Native American (Choctaw), who’s had to deal with Mormon bulshittery before. now to preface: I think he’s an interesting character, but I have a few key points I want to make.

originally I had a massive rant lined up for this, but I’ll summarize it.

I don’t think he’s as redeemed as people claim he is. I don’t think he’s taken measures to make up for the deeds of his past. I think he would have stayed with the Legion if it weren’t for the suffering he went through at Caesar’s hand. He’s a missionary and a colonizer. He sees the tribes as uncivilized, and hides behind his religion to continue his pattern of indoctrination and violence with them. On top of that: I think what people really forget is a running theme for all of the DLCs:

central characters are unreliable narrators, whether that be on purpose or through mindsets.

Dean Domino obfuscates the truth for most of Dead Money. The Think Tank don’t know the extent of their own histories. Ulysses is driven by a past that still hurts him.

Joshua Graham portrays his suffering as a baptism, a forgiveness of all of his prior sins so he might start anew, but he’s still the same person at his core. He still indoctrinates, he is still in the mindset of solving problems with violence, and he still views tribes as beneath him. I think a lot more could have been done with him, and I like the concept of him more than his actual character.

[wasmormon]

Are Nephites or Lamanites The Principal or Among Ancestors of Native Americans? DNA Answers

[urie]

Ok sorry for drama posting in your inbox but Dallon Weekes is apparently saying he hasn’t been Mormon for 15 years on Bluesky to which I am going ???????? For someone who apparently didn’t care you sure spent a lot of time defending the church and your missionary work on Twitter back in the day; like idk it’s just rubbing me the wrong way. Curious about your thoughts because you’re literally the only blog I trust to have a thoughtful response and not just stan Dallon

anon i am so beyond infuriated at this information its actually insane. i mean you are a saint and a scholar for bringing this to me dont get me wrong... but all i have to say to this is.... ME WHEN I FUCKING LIIIIIIIE

i decided to include those last two tweets even though dallon very cowardly deleted what lexi was responding to: he was arguing that the lds church is not homophobic (just because he himself was not homophobic) in response to people asking him his thoughts on homophobia in mormonism

dallon has been shilling for the mormon church on twitter for the entirety of the 15 years he claims he was not a part of it. he was tirelessly defending the church against 16 yr old queer children online for YEEEEARS

this interview is from 2021!

and this is the post in question on bluesky for anyone wondering:

even this post is incredibly telling and condescending lol

dallon is notorious for not being able to accept accountability and this is no different. in this post he is denouncing the idea that he could be a trump supporter by saying "i havent even been in the church for 15 years" while in the same breath chastising people for stereotyping him as a conservative just because he was mormon

1) i dont believe that he hasnt been in the church for 15 years. he was still talking about how the mormon religion was deeply important to him in interviews as recent as 4 years ago

2) if it IS true and he really hasnt been practicing for 15 years... why on earth was he constantly going out of his way to talk about being mormon and the importance of his faith and defending the church against any and all criticisms?

3) i also dont believe that he has never been conservative?? he has in the past talked about growing up in an ultra conservative household and has made posts about how "bad" he feels for all the bigotry he absorbed as a kid. why even lie about this, truly? it is far more believable to me that he was raised conservative and over time his morals and values won out over conservatism. why lie when the truth is far more believable? it isn't a crime to have been raised conservative. it isn't a crime to have been raised in the church. he can still be progressive now even if it wasn't how he started out, i have no idea why he even feels the need to say this

dallon painting himself as a bastion of progressive ideology who literally feels so bad about how conservative his upbringing was that he LOSES SLEEP OVER IT well into his late 30s......... in juxtaposition with dallon "i have never been conservative and im not even mormon anymore and its wrong to stereotype me" weekes

i can understand the concept of dallon struggling with his faith and its believable to me that he was probably not going to temple regularly for the past 15 years lol but the fact of the matter is he loudly and publicly defended the church and argued with people until he was blue in the face about his mormon faith

and now he is acting like its just "none of our business" whether or not hes mormon

it sure seemed like it was our business when you never shut up about it!!!!

[nottskyler]

Dear President Russell M Nelson,

Congratulations on making it to 100. I know it was a significant goal for you and you worked hard both physically and spiritually to make it this far. I know there are a lot of things outside our control to having a long life, but it also takes work.

Thank you for the challenge to read the Book of Mormon before the year was out back in 2018. My life has been irrevocably changed for the better for following that counsel. I learned much about myself and the world and Gd’s plan for me and began a path of repentance that has brought me closer to Christ and brought joy into a life that was characterized by despair before.

And that is simply a personal way that I know you are called of Gd to be our prophet. It is very clear how you were prepared to lead the Church at this time, especially with how your responses to revelation prepared the Church for the pandemic. A pandemic following a change in policy that barred me from sharing the joy that I found by following your counsel. It is sometimes hard to reconcile the exclusionary policy that you have permitted to be put in place under your leadership with my testimony that you are a prophet of Gd because following your counsel led me to Christ and the good things that come from repentance.

It is the same juxtaposition of you having a medical degree and then claiming that life (when the spirit enters the body) begins at conception because a unique genetic code was created. Conception comes before the medical definition of pregnancy which is before the latest point identical twins can be formed. Identical twins are clearly two different spirits with the same genetic code. The truth we learn from science is giving a different truth than the one that you claimed in your press conference on the reversal of roe v wade.

Not to harp on something you said one time not even during General Conference, but I was finally pregnant after years of infertility and it seemed to mock my pain of late periods and failed fertility treatments. I came to the conclusion that you were wrong and speaking your personal opinion and not the thoughts and feelings of Heavenly Father or our Savior Jesus Christ. A conclusion that many would think contradicts my previous statement about believing that you are a prophet of Gd.

But to believe that the prophets can do no wrong is idolatry. To claim that the truth is only what prophets have confirmed first is priestcraft. This is not the Lord’s way who said: “If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself.” (John 7:17); “Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them.” (Matthew 7:20). Or even Moroni closing his addition to the Book of Mormon “And by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things.” (Moroni 10:5) and “For behold, my brethren, it is given unto you to judge, that ye may know good from evil; and the way to judge is as plain, that ye may know with a perfect knowledge, as the daylight is from the dark night.” (Moroni 7:15).

Besides, how can we be fit for the Celestial Kingdom if we, as individuals of the Church, are to surrender our agency to you and never learn how to discern truth for ourselves. You set yourself up as the king of the Church when you say you are the only source of truth. Then all the sins of those who follow you without question become stains on your garments.

It is a difficult task to reconcile these types of mistakes with someone upholding a high calling that presumably has direct access to Gd, but then I realized that the traditions of our fathers was what made me ignore Gd telling me to repent much earlier than the 2018 Book of Mormon reading challenge. False traditions drain true intent and curiosity when you ask Gd because you feel confident that you know the answer and so you study with bias to confirm your worldview and you don’t have intent to do anything different if the answer isn’t what you expect. False traditions frame revelation so that you ignore key pieces because your mind fills in the default expectation instead of what actually exists in the revelation. In the end, I’m glad that I’m a nobody who only has to deal with the consequences of my own actions instead of being in your shoes where my same mistakes would’ve cause much more damage and would’ve been much harder to change direction when I learned I was wrong.

So I pray that your mind will be open to look past the false traditions of our fathers, to be open to the testimony of those othered by the Church organization. I pray that you realize that what you are doing is priestcraft so that you will swiftly repent and put effort into making sure you aren’t standing between us and Christ. I pray that you will repent in this life so you can share our joy.

Sincerely,

nottskyler

[theskyliesthelimit]

Sip sip hooray! ☕✨

My eventual exit from Mormonism doesn't start with coffee, but that "dirty bean water" isn't so evil after all!

This iced coffee is sinfully delicious! 🤤 And apparently, one of these bad bois is a one-way ticket to "Mormon hell" (aka not-the-Celestial-kingdom).

Cue eye roll. 🙄

From discovering my sexuality (hint: I'm not straight) to reading the CES letter and finding out the truth about Mormon truth claims, I have found my footing on my path far, far away from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (also known as the MotherF**King Mormon Church elsewhere on the Internet 😂).

Here's to a future filled with lots of coffee and true happiness! A future filled with peace, not fear!

Love & Light 💖🌈

[obsidianpen]

(Not offended if you don’t post this pen/and/or disagree, this can be just for you if you want) but PSA that Grey is posting on her Insta that the screenshots from The Document are lacking *context*, that of course this person didn’t include the version that made her look like an asshole, and that she has loads and loads of proof to the contrary.

Also, on her insta, Greyana shared an Ao3 comment someone left today on her story reading “Soo.. did you just download Blood and Gold & Altered State, put it into AI and come up with this bullshit? What the actual fuck.”

quick PSA that imho leaving hateful comments on Greyana’s work is not a great idea at all and imho further victimizes her and her mentality while this all gets sorted out.

the best thing we can discuss is share the Google document (truth) and the facts of what Greyana has done to mods of Reddit/Discord/Facebook to disallow what she’s done in Fandom spaces.

There will be people who inevitably like her work still. There are a lot of examples of people engaging with authors work even when authors are not good/doing bad things. there’s people who buy Addison Cain (a romance novelist who has immersed herself in lawsuits trying to lay claim to A/B/O), there’s people who loveeee Fourth Wing despite Rebecca Yarros’s Mormon mommy blog which is full of very interesting opinions. And, in our own fandom, many HP fans still purchase JKR’s works even with her anti trans activism. Plus all that’s coming out about Neil Gaiman! (To be clear these aren’t equivocal of Greyana, but pointing out many authors have a long and problematic history and we can and should discuss their bad behavior openly in the right spaces without harassing them personally and leaving cruel comments)

ObsidianPen doesn’t make money off of her amazing work and Greyana doesn’t either (right?). Don’t spread hate to our authors, spread facts in our community spaces.

Personally, I didn’t like Greyana’s story for style reasons. And this was long before I had learned of the discourse around her, but I’m not going to comment hateful things to her on her Ao3, her FB, her Insta, because that empowers her.

The best thing we can do is let the facts speak loud and proud in our communities, and let Grey fade into obscurity with whatever fans are loyal enough to remain. Or maybe change, which I think someone else here mentioned earlier. Although who the fuck knows lmao

tldr: as we have discourse, we can call out bad behavior in the right spaces but as a fandom, it’s best to avoid harassing Greyana

do with this what you will Pen, I respect the daylights out of you, and your work and contribution to the community. I will not be offended if you disagree, and if you disagree vehemently, this is your damn tumblr and you do as you please 👏

going to share this one because I completely agree with you (don’t talk to me about Neil gaiman rn I can’t, and I wasn’t even a huge fan to begin with but it still hurts!). This feels like a great post to leave this whole thing on, so I’ll respond and then I am, yet again, done with the Greyana shit (lord I hope, it’s so tiring.)

I don’t give a single shit what she posts on her Instagram stories or whatever tf (typing that sentence made me physically cringe; have I ever said anything more embarrassing? Surely not) and I will not be seeking it out (I cringed again). She knows where to find me if she wants to chat! ;) And I agree, I don’t think anyone should be sending her hateful comments. I also agree that we should stick to sharing her documented toxic behavior when appropriate, and that’s it. There will of course be people who still like her fics, as you said, and that’s their choice! I would have never batted an eye about her myself (I didn’t even know who she was until the whole AI thing was sent to me) if I hadnt sort of suddenly had many stories shared with me from many different people about their experiences being attacked and harassed (including myself, I learned!). It’s hard to not respond emotionally when you see such god awful behavior. But we shouldn’t.

I’m not going to respond to the rest of the asks I have in my inbox about this topic (for now, and hopefully forever, faaaaaahck I hate this), but know that I’ve seen them and appreciate them. I’m glad speaking up helped as many as it did. 💖💖💖💖

[sgiandubh]

Siento pasarte la pelota @sgiandubh🤣

El traductor traduce algo muy raro y como el anon, claramente tiene ganas de fastidiar y de recibir su correspondiente bofetón, te dejo a ti el dialéctico y yo me reservo para el gif 😂

Querida @bat-cat-reader,

Atentamente a su servicio, como siempre. 😘

(Dear @bat-cat-reader, Sincerely at your service, as always. 😘)

You wrote:

I think I'm going to pass this ball to you, @sgiandubh.

The translator is very weird with this one and as this Anon clearly just wants to be annoying and receive his slap, I am leaving the dialectics to you and will reserve my verdict to the gif.

Dear Never Were Anon,

Once upon a time, on a hill named Cumorah, in the godforsaken little township of Palmyra, somewhere deep on the Western side of the state of New York, a man called Joseph Smith had a vision. Following this particular episode, he claimed an angel called Moroni entrusted him with some golden plates written in 'reformed Egyptian' (whatever that might mean, btw), he then promptly proceeded to translate into English.

Only eight human beings of the Palmyrian like-minded community confirmed to have seen those plates. In order to translate them, Smith purportedly dangled a chocolate colored seer stone in a hat. Or used special (Biblical!) spectacles. Really, whichever rocks your boat, Anon: stories like this one are seldom clear, I suspect. The text, he was the only one to see, appeared at the bottom of the hat and was promptly dictated to someone nearby. The completed compilation was called The Book of Mormon and once it was all done, Moroni popped in again and took back his plates.

Maybe the same thing happened to you, Anon. Maybe an angel caught up with you at Starbucks, gave you a coupon and instructed you to use a seer stone to peer to the bottom of your plastic cup of latte. Otherwise I can't explain how do you know (in no particular order): what is S doing in the BOMB project, what is C doing at this particular moment in time, how much does S drink and how low can he go, what crosses my mind as I am writing this answer to you, what will I probably never need to say, how angry I am and of course, above all (lest we NEVER forget), THE TRUTH about the whole affair.

However, unlike Joseph Smith, your angel lost an 'i' en route to you. And that is a real problem, I know. Not even sorry, pumpkin.

Bat will take care of the gif.

[gavilarkholin-deactivated116710]

I'm not really liking Sazed's faith crisis storyline so far. It's just so . . . culturally Christian atheist bro-ish. Like, the Keepers are basically historical ethnographers, right? They preserved all these dead cultures in the wake of the Final Empire. They analyzed all the old religions for their cultural values, and they should be aware that because all these religions are dead, they're not able to see the interplay between doctrine and regular practice that you can in living religions.

So for Sazed to dismiss all those cultural values and complexities just because they don't meet up with some arbitrary standard of "truth" just . . . puts a bad taste in my mouth. You would think that a guy who helped overthrow a theocratic empire would be less invested in the idea of there being a "one true religion" that you can prove with #factsandlogic

And then there's what brought this all on. I'm sorry, but Sazed has seen death and brutality. He's watched people he loved die before. He really never cared about what happened to their souls just because he didn't have romantic feelings for them? Really?

I'm willing to see where Branderson is going with this, but idk man idk. Is Sazed going to found a new, totally logical alpha religion? I'm not sure how I feel about that. Because it could be cool, I imagine he would draw on the best stuff from all the religions he's studied, and it's neat to watch religious syncretism happen in real time. But idk if I'll like how Branderson handles it. We Mormons can get real weird about truth claims . . . I know he's a progressive Mormon now but I don't know where his head was at in 2008

[tanadrin]

i've kind of gotten sucked into the back catalogue of the podcast Mormon Stories, specifically the episodes where they have like honest-to-god egyptologists and archeologists and such on and they take apart mormon apologia piece by piece. because it would be fairly easy (and fairly accurate) to simply ignore this particular subgenre of apologism--not only are the foundational myths of mormonism patently absurd to almost everybody who grew up outside the faith, mormon apologists specifically have only the tiniest little wisps or shreds of reassurance to offer their fellow believers.

like, mainstream christian apologism has been working for two thousand years to produce a parallel body of knowledge--hell, it didn't even used to be "parallel," it was simply the default assumption in most of christendom for most of that period--and can not only draw on a much longer history, but does so in the defensive interpretation of what are (in part) much older events. and the debunked mythology of abrahamic religions accreted gradually, heavily steeped in a local geographic context. there actually were persians and egyptians and babylonians and stuff! nobody got basic facts about what food crops were available in the region wrong, because the people who wrote this stuff had lived there for centuries! you can't dig a posthole in the middle east without turning up artifacts suggestive of that history, because that history is (while false) authentically local.

the book of mormon isn't like that. the book of mormon is insane. it's what you get talking to a guy you met in a bar at 2 am who wants to tell you about the stuff he half-remembers from history channel ancient aliens specials he saw ten years ago, because that guy occupies approximately the same social niche joseph smith did, and also people knew even less about archeology (to say nothing of the archeology of the americas) back in the 1830s. and yet these guys like hugh nibley and kerry muhlestein get up and try to defend this account, writing stuff that makes your average christian fundamentalist apologist look like a paragon of scientific integrity.

what baffles me isn't the rank and file mormons raised in the religion who might know little else. what baffles me are the people who are thoughtful enough to engage with real archeology, to understand the nuances of just how completely nonsensical the mormon version of ancient history is and how indistinguishable recent mormon history is from, like, scientology-level cult shenanigans, and yet who still consider themselves mormons and affiliate with the religion. like i get that religion isn't all about truth claims. there's social and cultural and emotional and all kinds of other elements that bind members of a religious community together. but "mormon" isn't an ethnic group. so far as mormons have a unique culture outside the religion itself it is, as far as i can tell, 1) the shared misery of the mission experience, 2) giving your kids slightly goofy names, 3) getting married really young, and 4) not drinking or smoking. and clearly you care to a certain extent about the truth claims, or you wouldn't have these (very interesting!) discussions on your podcast with archeologists about those claims.

anyway, it's a very weird phenomenon!