I Demand Credit for Stuff You Doubt I Did

I'm sure there are people who've gained your trust over the years through their noble actions. If one of them approached you and said, "Credit me for inventing Snickers," how would you respond?

"Really, you invented Snickers? Snickers have been around since I was a lad and you weren't even born then, so I'm a little skeptical. Do you have proof you were the first to combine chocolate, nougat, caramel and roasted peanuts in bar form and bestow upon your delicious creation the name, 'Snickers?'"

"I have not one shred of evidence, but you should trust me because I've never lied to you in the past."

I understand it may be somewhat difficult dismissing a far-fetched claim made by a friend you've grown to trust over the years, but dismissing a claim made by authors of an outlandish book written thousands of years ago sounds reasonably easy.

Yet drafters of holy books claim god demands you believe in him without a single doubt.

Not only does the "creator of the universe" offer no proof he or she exists; he or she makes it difficult to believe in intelligent design.

Not only must we believe in things not provable, we must accept scenarios that are scientifically improbable? And if we choose rationality, we're horrible people who face an eternity of unspeakable horror?

I don't understand how religious people define "faith" as "blind acceptance of the irrational."

If a stranger approached you and said, "Have faith I am the entity responsible for the sun which shines above you"; how would you respond?

Hopefully you'd continue on your way, careful to refrain from eye contact.

If someone you trusted without question made the same assertion, instead of simply dismissing their claim, you'd suggest they immediately seek help. Perhaps you'd even Google a few local psychiatrists hoping to find a qualified doctor receiving five stars from area mental patients.

Why do you view ancient authors of your holy book differently than you would strangers of today? Is their story more believable because they didn't approach you on the sidewalk; choosing instead to jot their story down during a time in which writing something down wasn't an easy task because it was thousands of years before Italian-born Frenchman Marcel Bich founded the Societe Bic?

So if a crazy man approaches me on the street and claims to have filled all the oceans with salty water, I should advise him to detail his feat in a leather-bound book to ensure persons of future generations will believe with all their hearts?