That's who I don't trust

There was no mercy in the afternoon. The thermometer had crossed 40 degrees, the sun was blowing, and the air was a series of small fires. Hoxha appealed for forgiveness to a god who conquered all spaces and I listened. In Al Mujaad's mosque, old five or six centuries old, large, almost empty, in a very ancient neighborhood of Cairo, believers rushed, sweaty, washed their feet and heads, bowed down before a God, and I watched. And so I wondered whether my conduct, my shame and my wickedness deserved the wrath of a God, and as I thought so, a revelation came to me: atheism is a wonderful solution. Any atheist says “doesn't believe in God”, does that make sense? 

Freedom of faith, as we say we exercise it, is incomplete: we choose, so we think, in which Lord we should believe: but we choose not which Lord we should not believe. There is a logic: there was a time when every human being was born, lived and died in the same tradition, and thus its decision not to believe, when taken, clearly referred to a God, who was considered the only true one in her community. The mix between humans and globalisation has ended this tradition. It's not enough not to believe in God. 

You must choose, or at least we must have the choice, in which god we cannot believe. The easiest thing would be to say: "No one. " But it would be hypocritical: I believe that an atheist does not believe in one God more than in others. 

How to Choose

It's not easy: there's a supply surplus, with endless deities. But here, too, there's a order luckily. It's not worth, of course, not believing in deities like Zeus or Jupiter, Hera, Pachamama, or Amon Ra, about whom it's already clarified as fantasy beings. And it is evident that, by its decision, Buddha cannot be considered a god and that the indigenous are so numerous and so contentious that they don't even believe each other. It's not even worth Mao Ce Dune, and in Maradon's case the debate is open. We live in the orbit of three one-way deities. To us, not to believe, means not to believe in them.

And so, of course, I could not believe in the God of the Jews. Half my ancestors believed him. It has the advantage that's easy and the disadvantage that's just as easy: it doesn't promise great punishments for those who don't follow it, but it's true that for a Jew, to believe in his God means to fight, and therefore, not to believe it turns into a trick, in this battle.

Or I may not believe in the God of Muslims: at this moment it is certainly more vigorous, more promising, and his promises of punishment on non-virvants are not always limited to the afterlife. And so, those who live to threaten us benefit: for years they say that this god is the worst threat, the deadliest, the most fundamentalist. In comparison, the God of Christians is a kind grandfather.

In the case of the Christian God, however, this mask continually falls. Or maybe he doesn't like it, poor devil. In any case, he does all he can, saying that he is powerful, to prove that the king continues to be. So he counterattacks, with his various prelates, politicians and people in the field of publicity. And it does it: in the last few days, in Argentina, for example, the campaign against the legalization of abortion that would enable the poor women, who cannot afford such a cladist, to have the same rights as the rich ones who can pay the money back from an increasing number of priests and a pope, ended up convincing me that God in whom I shouldn't believe is he. I feel sorry for God, Jehovah, and others: I choose not to believe in this Lord, who has no mercy, who has no shame, and who, among other things, does not have even one name of his own, because he believes that he has them all. / El Pais in Albanian from the world.al