Where does the pride come from?

This thought has been on my mind for a while. I know I am painting atheists with a broad brush, as I haven’t met all of them, but I have known a fair number. Those of my acquaintance have tended to be very proud of their lack of belief, and conversely, they considered anyone who didn’t share their lack of belief to be an idiot. It’s as though they declared themselves winners of a contest that they, for their lack of belief, should admit doesn’t matter. In trying to find an analogy, I imagine two men standing before a firing squad, arguing over who could beat the other in a foot race. A few minutes later they are dead and their pride is gone with them. If all flesh is grass, and soon to wither and die, what good does it do to boast? Perhaps pride is the security blanket of the unbelieving intellectual the way that religion is supposed to be the opiate of the masses.

It goes without saying that pride isn’t found only in atheists. I have often found it strange when intelligent people look down those are not as intelligent, or when those who are tall or physically strong make fun of those who are small and weak. So much of what we have is a gift, regardless of who or what we think the source is.

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