Happy shall he be, that taketh and dasheth thy little ones against the stones. --Psalm 137:9
That's enough for me to invalidate the bible as anything other than ancient philosophy. Some good. Some mediocre. A lot that's evil.
No, there is nothing happy about murdering children.
Or course, Radrook will tell us that we lack the special understanding that would justify the true joy one could achieve killing children by throwing them against rocks...
And here I thought drowning puppies was sick and twisted.
Please...
I tried that one on Radrook some time ago, and he gave the same answer that he gives every other time, which of course was along the lines of how those who are intellectually inferior to him and scripturally illiterate are unqualified to discuss the bible in front of him. I get the feeling that he would have added, "Or breathe the same air I do," since that was the overall gist of his argument. The correct answer would be that Psalm 137 was a lamentation over a time when the Israelites lived in slavery under the Babylonians, and thus expressed a sentiment of revenge against their captors. Tribal warfare was very brutal, and women and children were not spared. This Psalm was descriptive, not proscriptive.
Psalms are nothing more than ritualistic religious songs. They are not prophecies, laws, or mandates. The funny thing is that when Psalm 137 is typically used in Christian worship, the final verse of it is conveniently left out.
I wanted to add, as well, something about the chess analogy Radrook seems to be so fond of. What he is apparently unaware of is the fact that the rules of chess
have been changed and revised since the game was invented. Under the original Arabian rules, the bishop moved two spaces diagonally, and if there was a piece in the way, it jumped it without capturing it. Later on, it was given long range powers. Under the original rules, the queen could only move one space diagonally per turn; it was weaker even than a pawn, posed a negligible threat, and opposing queens never met each other. This was changed so that the queen was the most powerful and second most valuable piece in the game, able to move like a bishop and rook. Under the original rules, there was no such thing as castling or the two space opening move for pawns, but this was changed later on. One of the last rules to be changed was the addition of the
en passant maneuver, where a pawn on the 5th row could still capture a pawn using its two space opening move. This was to prevent players from trying to avoid capture by exploiting the two space opening.
In addition to the rules being revised, the chess notation has likewise undergone revision. The original notation, used for centuries, involved naming the columns by the initial letters of the power pieces that start on them: QR, QN, QB, Q, K, KB, KN, and KR, and numbering the rows 1-8. Moves were written by using the intial letter of the piece and then the coordinates of the space it would move to. This was changed fairly recently. The new officially recognized notation is a much simpler coordinate system, using letters a-h for the columns. Moves are written using a coordinate for the space a piece is on, and then the coordinate for the space it moves to.
The rules of chess, like interpretations of the bible, do in fact change and undergo revisions over time. Not only is Radrook's analogy false on both counts, it also hurts his case. He is essentially arguing that the original Arabian rules are set in stone and nobody has any right to deviate from them, let alone play the game by modern rules. A key difference between chess rules and bible interpretation is that it's a lot rarer for people to murder, oppress, or march off to war in the name of differing views on chess rules. I think he probably should have asked someone who actually knows how to play chess before spouting off such a ridiculous analogy.
As I said before, it's funny he should mention the game of chess. Debating with bible literalists who demand nothing short of complete and utter compliance with their beliefs is rather like trying to play chess with a pigeon. It knocks over the pieces, craps on the board, and then flies back to its flock to declare victory.