I really like this thread but some of the examples drawn in comparison to religion seem a little far-fetched.
Being white, calling a black person a “nigger” doesn’t make a comparison for me.
Use of that word-- a derogatory title invented by white slave owners-- does not compare to a story, said to have morals (and really doesn’t) that spawns centuries and centuries of killing “for god.”
Even in the OP, teasing a sports team or mocking a popular artist might inflame one or two people into a rage, religion will unite the whole room.
Last holiday season, we had protests here in CA saying, the phrase should be “Merry Christmas”, not “Happy Holidays.” “This is a Christian country.” Not on my watch.
Even ventriloquist Jeff Dunham draws loud cheers from his audience when Walter (the pissy-old folded arms puppet) says the same thing in his act.
Point is this: start talking about it. At least we can get a reaction,
maybe start a conversation, even an argument. Whatever the outcome, LOGIC can finally be examined.
One thing I’ve actually found when talking to others at a bar, cafe, etc., is the more questions I ask, the more uncomfortable a believer becomes. THIS IS A GOOD THING!
“Why are you religious? Why did Jesus have to be brutally murdered to save my original sin 2,000 years before I was born? If we can only procreate through fornication, why does god make us sin to start a family? Why do squids have better vision than humans? If we’re made in his image, why do we murder? What’s the point of free will when it allows us to make bombs, anthrax…”
I’ve gotten heated, I admit. Once I even told a guy next to me at a steak place,
“Let me ask you this: Serrated steak knife in my hand. I’m going to plunge it into your neck in 20 seconds. You are going to die. Your existence for the rest of time entirely depends on what I feel like doing next. To avoid jail, I’m jumping off the roof, taking my own life. And when the pallbearers carry you down the flowered garden, what will you think of your dumb-ass brethren shouting, ‘How could god let this happen?’ Because your murderer, me, made it happen. Are you telling me that god needs you in heaven for a greater purpose so he called me to stab you in a restaurant? That’s why he made me in HIS own image?”
I made the guy cry. And I did nothing wrong at all, at all, at all. He wasn’t upset at my words, he was upset at his lack of one good thing: doubt.