Interesting question, but the illusion here is to think that atheists face any special problem. Let's take the issues in turn.

On morality: suppose God exists. How would that make morality objective? Someone might think that if God commands something, that makes it morally right. But it's long been pointed out (at least since Plato's Euthyphro) that this way of thinking about things is problem-ridden. What if God commanded torturing all blue-eyed babies? Would that make it right? Hard to see why anyone should agree.

Someone might say that God would never command any such thing. But why not? Presumably because God, if there is one, doesn't command evil deeds. In fact, if the theist wants to make sense of the idea that God is praiseworthy partly because he is good, there will have to be a standard of good and bad, right and wrong, separate from what God happens to will.

This may still leave it puzzling how there can be objective moral truths. That's too big an issue to tackle here, but it's worth seeing that theism isn't obviously in any better position than atheism when it comes to addressing this question.

Turn to logic. P and not-P can't both be true; that's the Law of Non-Contradiction. Is God responsible for that? If so, then presumably the Law of Non-Contradiction didn't have to be true; God could have made it otherwise. But how could God have made it otherwise? What are we even being asked to imagine if someone tells us that God might have made contradictions true?

The problem is that we can say that God is responsible for the truth of the laws of logic, but it's not at all clear that we have any idea what we mean when we say it If there is a problem about what makes logical principles objectively true, saying that they're true because God somehow dictated them is an "answer" that doesn't seem to provide any insight.

Experimental philosophy does not have a simple definition, but here's one way to describe it: Experimental philosophy involves (a) doing experimental research that is relevant to philosophical debates, and then (b) explicitly considering how such experimental research informs philosophical questions. Lots of scientists do research relevant to philosophical debates (including Kinsey, I suppose, and including lots of physicists, biologists, psychologists, neuroscientists, linguists, etc.), but typically the only ones who fall into the experimental philosophy camp are the ones who explicitly discuss the way their research relates to philosophical debates (as in b).

Meanwhile, the philosophers who fall into the "x-phi" camp typically do relatively simple survey studies on the way ordinary people answer questions about philosophical thought experiments and then they consider how the results (1) may challenge "armchair" claims about what is intuitive or commonsensical (philosophers often say things like, "It is intuitive that...", "We would all say that such and such is the case," "The ordinary meaning of X is ..."); (2) may challenge the reliability of intuitions about philosophical issues (perhaps because people's intuitions seem to vary across cultures or vary in response to irrelevant features of cases); or (3) help to uncover the psychological sources of our intuitions, experiences, or beliefs. For each of these purposes, philosophers have become increasingly sophisticated in their experimental methods, using more advanced methods and statistics (and in some cases, teaming up with psychologists or other scientists). Though there has been a lot of debate about the value of experimental philosophy, I find it hard to see why, if practiced well, it should not be seen as a valuable supplement to traditional philosophical methods. I hope my work on intuitions about free will has helped shed some light on that ancient debate.

Here's a blog devoted to experimental philosophy: http://experimentalphilosophy.typepad.com/

Here's a source for most of the existing papers in experimental philosophy: http://pantheon.yale.edu/~jk762/ExperimentalPhilosophy.html

And here's a paper I co-authored on what experimental philosophy is all about (though it's already a bit outdated, since it's a few years old): http://www2.gsu.edu/~phlean/papers/Past_and_Future_of_Experimental_Philosophy.pdf

And here's a link to an "experimental epistemology" lab at the University at Buffalo, run by philosopher James Beebe.

While I think there are useful experiments that philosophers can do that can shed light on what "ordinary" people's "intuitions" are, I wonder if this is really philosophy or merely philosophically-oriented cognitive science.

This seems like many other agreements two people might make, and not in a class by itself. On the whole, we should keep our promises, but we don't want the law to step in and enforce all of them. If a woman promises not to have an abortion, then she surely she should keep the promise. It would be the same in the other direction. A woman might ask a man to agree not ask her to have an abortion, if she should become pregnant. Morally, both have at least a prima facie obligation to keep their promises.

The law is another matter. If by making any promise we incurred the risk of being dragged into a courtroom, we'd make promises very sparingly. And then a valuable way of managing our personal relationships would be virtually lost. In this particular situation, either party would be able to foresee that the other could renege on the agreement. After all, as we all know, it's hard to predict what one will really want to do about something as life-changing as a pregnancy. A reasonable person wouldn't trust the other's word completely, and would avail themselves of good contraception.

To quote from the great SNL philosopher, Mango, "Can you touch a rainbow? Can you put the wind in your pocket? No! Such is Mango." I think he has it right. I don't know much about the optics of rainbows, but I'm pretty sure they move relative to the observer, so they do not have an objective diameter.

At least that's what I thought until I found this answer on the magical internet here:

"It's probably not impossible, but it is difficult. A rainbow looks circular because it's basically the circle where a cloud of rain droplets intersects with your cone of vision, like the circle on the end of an ice-cream cone. Imagine said ice-cream cone with the point in your eye (don't actually try this experiment unless you're looking for a career in piracy). Now make the cone bigger and bigger until the round end hits the cloud of raindrops that are reflecting the sun's light. The big circle on the end of that cone is where the rainbow appears to be -- as someone else pointed out, you can only see the top half of it (because the other half is below the surface of the earth). The raindrops reflect light at about a 40 degree angle, so you can calculate the diameter of the circle if you also know the height of the cone (because the height of the cone, the radius of the circle, and the 40 degree angle are all part of a right angled triangle). The challenge is knowing the height of the cone, which is how far away the cloud of raindrops is from you. If you can work that out then, yes, you can measure the diameter of the rainbow (diameter = (2*distanceToCloud) / tan 40)."

Also, if the ends of a perfect rainbow appear to touch the earth at two known landmarks (say, two buildings), perhaps the diameter is the distance between those landmarks?

It depends on what you mean by love, but I can't think of any definition of love that would suggest it is impossible or even unlikely to fall in love with someone you interact with (a lot) on the internet. I don't think there's a (credible) scientist in the world who would say love between humans is based solely on pheromones, chemicals, and physical attraction. They might say that physical attraction, perhaps lust, is based largely on pheromones and various chemical and hormonal processes. But I think it's fair to say that, even so, people can be very physically attracted to (lust after) someone they see on the Internet (or TV or movie screen)--no pheromones detected!--and I'm sure part of that feeling of attraction has to do with the chemical and neural changes the beautiful images cause in them. (Just to take a crazy example, I suspect it is possible to feel very attracted to Catherine Zeta-Jones or George Clooney without meeting them in person--I'm just guessing here based on what other people tell me...)

Similarly, interacting with someone on the Internet will produce lots of chemical and neural changes in us, and some of these changes will be the basis for: thinking this person is really interesting and funny, feeling admiration and respect for the person, hoping the person feels the same way about you, sharing goals with the person, and also feeling sexual desire for the person. Sounds like love to me. What will be missing are any chemical signals the person releases (such as pheromones) as well as the feel of their touch (and the sound of their voice if you've been interacting only by type-chat). But these things are not necessary conditions for love, even if they may sometimes be significant factors in making people who meet each other in person feel an initial attraction for each other such that they are more likely to fall in love. And perhaps "matching" pheromones and such are even strong enough to keep some people together who probably shouldn't be.

The converse case is interesting: are there people who fall in love on the internet (and they are physically attracted to each other's visual appearance), but when they meet in person their pheromones and such "mismatch" enough to mess up their relationship (even to make them stop seeing the other as attractive)? Could Catherine Zeta-Jones have pheromones that would make her no longer attractive once one met her in person??