That’s Sharon Stone’s advice to girls, as noted in this review in the conservative magazine American Spectator of Prude: How the Sex-Obsessed Culture Damages Girls (and America, Too!):

"Young people talk to me about what to do if they’re being pressed for sex. I tell them what I believe… if you’re in a situation where you cannot get out of sex, offer a blow job. I’m not embarrassed to tell them." – Sharon Stone

Obviously, idiotic (though hilarious) advice. I’m equally dismayed, however, with the suggested path offered by religious or conservative organizations around abstinence-only education, particularly if it comes at the cost of real sex ed in the classroom. Sharon Stone, after all, does not speak for the pro-sex ed, pro-individual choice, pro-"have-sex-if-you-want-to-it-feels-great-just-be-safe" contingent.

The book Prude, by the way, seems like the latest book to sensationalize the sexualization of America’s youth, replete with dirty little anecdotes designed to shock and awe parents into a state of oblivion. Enough, already.

(Hat tip to the single-best source on the internet for stimulating links, BookForum.com)

Chris and I have kicked around the idea of starting a secular church that would try to offer the community and values of a regular church, without the brainwashing. According to this article in Time magazine, some Palo Alto parents have actually taken action: a Sunday school for atheist children. Excerpt:

The Palo Alto Sunday family program uses music, art and discussion to encourage personal expression, intellectual curiosity and collaboration. One Sunday this fall found a dozen children up to age 6 and several parents playing percussion instruments and singing empowering anthems like I’m Unique and Unrepeatable, set to the tune of Ten Little Indians, instead of traditional Sunday-school songs like Jesus Loves Me. Rather than listen to a Bible story, the class read Stone Soup, a secular parable of a traveler who feeds a village by making a stew using one ingredient from each home.

Makes sense. I know a bunch of atheist parents who struggle with how to transmit values and talk about morality with their children. Religion makes it easy. In particular, the reward/punishment structure around enforcing the values is absolutely brilliant.

From The Economist‘s very worthwhile 18-page special report on religion and public life:

In global terms the most remarkable religious success story of the past century has been the least intellectual (and most emotive) religion of all. Pentecostalism was founded only 100 years ago in a scruffy part of Los Angeles by a one-eyed black preacher, convinced that God would send a new Pentecost if only people would pray hard enough. There are now at least 400 million revivalists around the world. Their beliefs are not for the faint-hearted. According to a study of ten countries by the Pew Forum on Religion & Public Life, most adherents have witnessed divine healing, received a “direct revelation from God” or seen exorcisms.

Ross Douthat, on the danger of conflating the experiential and ideological aspects of religion:

But the "mainspring" of religious faith for most believers – and particularly for a mystic like Mother Teresa – is the personal experience of God as a being who loves them and communicates with them, rather than the intellectual experience of Catholicism (or some other specific faith tradition) as a philosophical system that persuades them.

Mark Lilla, in his long and interesting NYT Magazine cover story, on why the Great Separation of church and state is not and will not be a given in most of the world:

As for the American experience, it is utterly exceptional: there is no other fully developed industrial society with a population so committed to its faiths (and such exotic ones), while being equally committed to the Great Separation. Our political rhetoric, which owes much to the Protestant sectarians of the 17th century, vibrates with messianic energy, and it is only thanks to a strong constitutional structure and various lucky breaks that political theology has never seriously challenged the basic legitimacy of our institutions. Americans have potentially explosive religious differences over abortion, prayer in schools, censorship, euthanasia, biological research and countless other issues, yet they generally settle them within the bounds of the Constitution. It’s a miracle.

Here’s Christopher Hitchen’s response to Lilla.

William Lobdell, the religion beat reporter for the L.A. Times, has an interesting first-person column out about how covering religion for the newspaper made him lose his faith.

He traces the arc of his faith and his job. How, when he was first assigned to the beat, he reveled in the opportunity to cover religion seriously since so many mainstream media treated it like a "circus". Then he immersed himself in the Orange County religious community, his reporting of others’ faith and spirituality deepening his own. And finally the disillusionment: Catholic sex scandals, intolerant sects, and money-hungry TV preachers, causing him to not only stop attending church but to disbelieve in God altogether.

It’s a sobering tale that speaks to me as a "soft" atheist who — like Lobdell, I presume — envies the community and comfort religion affords some people, but in the end cannot make the leap of faith.

An old classmate of mine died the other week. He was 22. I didn’t really know him, but it’s always a little bit of a shock to see an announcement that one of your peers has passed. Apparently, he had a heart condition that doesn’t rear its ugly head until something bad happens — and by then it’s usually too late.

In the age of Facebook and blogs, how we commemorate someone’s death is changing.

My classmate’s Facebook profile is still up. In fact, he is tagged in photos as recently as week or two ago. What’s most creepy is his Wall, the public place where people leave messages. One day he has the stream of normal messages ("Wanna play golf sometime soon?") and then — just like that! — the next message starts a string of remembrances, "You will be missed, you’re shining down on us from heaven." Wow.

Last September I posted about a friend of a friend, Suzanne, who started a blog chronicling her fight to survive ovarian cancer. I helped her get going on Blogger. Suzanne died last month. Her blog, though, is still up. Her last living post starts, "There comes a time when you have to face the facts and as much as I have been fighting, these last turn of events have really set me back." Suzanne may now be gone, but her words will live on.

Cathy Seipp, an LA-based journalist, died not long ago and her daughter took over her blog to post updates and remembrances. The archives remain.

For those of us bloggers, we can only hope that if we were to suddenly die our last post is not some bitchy rant about how hard it is to open a can of dog food.

But even if you don’t have a blog, you still might achieve an immortal online presence. Check out this touching memorial site for Anoopa Sharma, who was a PhD student at Emory University when she died in a car accident. A blog, photo slideshow, and this YouTube video ensure that Anoopa’s light will continue to shine. What a wonderful thing her friends did. For some reason that banner picture of her reading really touches me — maybe because I myself have spent much time reading in trains. So peaceful…

I recently had the pleasure of meeting two loyal blog readers who are both self-declared evangelical Christians (ambiguous terms I know).

Although we overlapped in agreement on many “life” topics, we didn’t seem to overlap on the polarizing social issues which dominate American politics. This made the conversation fascinating.

As we chatted I was asking myself questions such as, Why wouldn’t you let a woman have an abortion if she wanted to? What’s so bad about pre-marital sex? Why would I want to consider myself a “sinner” the moment I pop out of the womb? Why wouldn’t you let gays marry? Is it really that bad to have a divorce? How can you possibly, rationally convince yourself that you know the single Truth when, had you been raised by atheist or buddhist parents, you might well believe in some other truth?

All questions with obvious answers to me. I realized in this conversation that I had never really argued in support of my stances on the above issues with anyone who saw the answers equally obvious — and exactly opposite. It was an awesome, perspective-broadening experience. And it made me think about my general principles when it comes to these issues.

I hold the following basic beliefs:

1. I support anyone’s right to believe in anything they want (with only a few constraints). Moreover, the social issues above are hardly deal breakers for me. That is, I would never not be friends with someone because they see the matters of abortion or god or marriage differently than me.

2. I believe that religion does more good than bad in the world. (Although John Derbyshire of the National Review says in an interesting Q&A about how he lost his faith that he no longer believes this.)

3. I encourage everyone to sample from the smorgasbord of religious and spiritual options to find your center “pole”. Life gets crazy sometimes — we all need something to swing around. Check out all the wisdom traditions.

4. I find “evangelical” behavior terrifying — trying to inform or persuade others about your religious views without invitation. In other words, if I ask you about your faith, tell me. If I don’t ask, feel free to tell me what you are, but don’t go a step further. You do not have the right to impose your religious belief on me — even if you think it’s in my best interest.

It is a massively complicated, infinitely interesting topic. To make up for huge gaps in my knowledge I will spend time in college wrestling with the theology. In the meantime, maybe I should read C.S. Lewis, since every hard-core Christian (without exception – must be part of the playbook) has recommend him to me.

“But Ben,” you might be asking yourself, “What are you? You still haven’t told us!” Well, since you asked, I would call myself “Spiritual but not religious”. What does this mean? I have no idea. But I intend to spend my whole life searching for the answer! (And hopefully changing my mind several times along the way.)

Sam Harris, author of The End of Faith, and Andrew Sullivan, Atlantic editor and prolific blogger, duel online in this Beliefnet debate. Both are articulate and forceful. One’s a staunch atheist, the other is a "moderate" Christian (Harris believes moderates are perhaps more to blame than fundamentalists).

I printed out all 32 pages and read it slowly and carefully. It’s a great read for anyone interested in the Questions of Life such as, "Can religion and science co-exist? What to say to moderates? Could and should children be raised from a ‘clean glass’ totally devoid of religion?"