I am not, as you may know, a fan of any religion, and the faith in which I was immersed in my youth, Christianity, is far from being my favourite. Frankly, I dislike Christianity and would as a rule prefer a world free from its intrusion.
But finding the whole Christian malarkey rather on the nose doesn't mean I think there's nothing of value being preached in the churches. Of course, much of what IS good about Christianity is just universal morality, or borrowed from some older religion. But there is one core element of the faith that, though not necessarily unique to Christianity, always does seem to me to be a very distinctively Christian value, and that rare distinctively Christian value that all of us, whatever our spiritual disposition, would do well to practise more often.
That is forgiveness.
If Jesus was a real dude, he was onto something with the forgiveness spiel. And if he wasn't a real dude, kudos to whoever put it into his mouth.
Forgiveness, I think, is a pretty wonderful thing, and a thing that makes a better human being of the person who manages to inject a bit of it into their life.
Talk of "Christian values" is rife in the world of today. Pious fundamentalists will tell us that the phrase means sexual propriety, exchanging bodily fluids with people of a pre-approved genital configuration and so forth. And if you take their scriptures at their word, they do have at least a skerrick of support for that - thank whatever deity you like that not many people do take their scriptures at their word.
More secular types will speak of "Christian values" too - normally in the context of compassion and tolerance. In fact the term will be used as a stick to beat those who proclaim their own Christian belief but act without compassion and tolerance. And certainly there's more than a skerrick of scriptural support for those values, and anyone behaving without compassion towards their fellow man is probably not being very Christian in the strictest sense of the word. Although in other, more empirical senses of the word, they may be being very very Christian indeed.
But even compassion and tolerance, as laudable as they are, are the "easy" part of "Christian values". Being nice to people? Treating others kindly? We all should do these things, but that's not news, is it?
What's harder, and what is less likely to be promoted, either by the fundamentalists, or the Christian politicians, or the secularists berating the others for betraying their own values, is forgiveness.
"Love thy neighbour" is an easy matter. What's hard is "love thine enemy".
When we talk of compassion, it's usually in the context of those we deem "Deserving". The people we see as having done no wrong, who have been mistreated or fallen on hard times through no fault of their own. We are eager to extend the hand of friendship to anyone we think has earned it. And so we should.
But so rarely are we called to extend that hand to those who don't deserve it. So rarely do we emphasise the importance of granting compassion to those who have done wrong, who have mistreated others, who have caused misery to others, who have hurt us.
For the most part, we prefer to condemn than to forgive, and we have convinced ourselves that this is not only easier and more satisfying, but that it is right. Those who do wrong deserve condemnation, and we will pour what they deserve upon their heads as much as we can. After all, how can we correct bad behaviour, we confidently ask ourselves, if we do not turn our backs on those who behave badly and make it clear: you are not welcome here.
And I am no different to anyone else: this is my instinct too. This is what I do more often than not.
But I don't want to. I want to try harder, and be better. I want to make the effort to forgive. I don't want to seethe with hate and anger, even when it's entirely justified. I want forgiveness to become a part of my doomed atheist soul.
Forgiveness is a thing of inestimable value, precisely because it is not restricted to those who deserve it. It is a thing of sublime beauty, not because it is just, but because it is generous.
Forgiveness, real forgiveness, means looking at someone who has done you wrong, and saying I will not hate you.
It means seeing a human being hurt another human being, and saying we need not hold onto that hurt forever.
It means seeing atrocity, and saying even the worst in humanity does not have to poison the best.
It means recognising that for even the most corrupt and depraved among us, the sins we commit are not the totality of ourselves, and that every person ever born was more than just their worst deeds.
It means saying redemption is real, and possible, and important, and nobody is beyond it.
It means knowing that the human animal is complex and messy, and nothing it thinks or says or does is so simple we can place each other in neat categories of good and evil: the reasons that we do right or wrong are not so amenable to easy identification that we should find our judgments infallible.
It means, more than anything, declaring that you will never deny the humanity of a fellow traveller in this life, even at those times when they may try to deny yours.
I want to embrace forgiveness. I don't want to deny room in my heart for sympathy or pity, even when I'm looking at someone who my gut says deserves none of either. I don't want to hate people even when they hate me, and I don't want to bay for vengeance against anyone, no matter how much they deserve retribution, or how little they deserve compassion.
I want to forgive people. Not to excuse actions or abandon values, but to grant the recognition of our shared humanity to everyone, even those - especially those - who have done everything to merit the revocation of that recognition.
And I want you to as well. But if you don't, I'll forgive you.
Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts
Monday, April 25, 2016
Saturday, February 2, 2013
DEAR BERNARD
An open letter in response to Bernard Gaynor's open letter in response to Mia Freedman's open letter in response to Bernard Gaynor's tweet in response to the indoctrination of our children by homosexualists.
Dear Bernard,
I am writing this open letter because, as I am sure you know, open letters are how we get things done in this country. I myself am currently running for prime minister, and I can assure you that when elected I will be pursuing a very open-letter-heavy agenda.
As I was reading your letter to Mia Freedman, I couldn't help but notice that you are extremely stupid, and so I wondered if you had any advice for me as a parent. My children are still too young for any definitive conclusions to be made, but early testing indicates they are at risk of being stupid as well, so I was wondering whether you have any tips about how to live a fulfilling life as a stupid person: what sort of obstacles and prejudices have you faced, and what kind of strategies do you put in place to overcome your stupidity? I hear that meditation is good - do you meditate? Probably not because meditation is a bit gay, but maybe if we meditate about karate movies it would be all right.
Your views on homosexual teachers are quite interesting and merit further examination. Like you, I once went to a school and was shocked by the amount of penetrative sex that goes on in the average classroom. While I understand that there will always be times when curriculum requirements necessitate sexual intercourse between teachers and students, I, like you, am worried that if homosexuality is normalised, this sexual intercourse may cease being strictly heterosexual, as is traditional in Australian schools, and begin to be homosexual, which is a bit gross, isn't it? I read a book once about homosexual intercourse and I was shocked at the things those people do to each other. As Catholics, you and I know that some things should not be put inside other things. You wouldn't stuff a turkey with a ferret, would you? No.
But likewise, as a good Catholic I am sure you will agree there is no need to actually ban penetrative sex in classroom environments: we must be careful that the cure does not become worse than the disease, causing our children to grow up having no idea what sex with teachers feels like at all. We just need to find a way to stop our kids becoming "gay". By the way, did you know your name has "gay" in it? That's pretty funny isn't it? Did kids make fun of you at school and call you Gay Bernard? Or did they mainly make fun of you for being stupid? At my school we made fun of stupid kids mostly, but if we'd had a boy with "gay" in his name things might have been different.
Why does "gay" mean "homosexual" anyway? Wouldn't it better if we went back to "gay" meaning "happy", and came up with a new word for homosexuals, like "Demoncocks"? I would like to hear your thoughts on this. Maybe you could come over to my house and watch karate movies with me and we could talk about it. I promise not to let the evening progress beyond some light kissing.
Most of all I want to throw my support behind your desire to allow parents the right to decide who teaches their children. Personally I would like my children to be taught by boxing legend "Aussie Joe" Bugner, but as yet the Department of Education has been stypically stiff-necked and refuses to allow even an hour a week of Bugner lessons, let alone the full-time Aussie Joe curriculum that I would prefer. Bureaucracy, huh? It is very gay.
I'm not saying that you should also let your kids be taught by Aussie Joe, of course. I think that you should be allowed to select whichever former boxing great you like to teach your children. I hope you choose wisely, as I'd hate to see your children be hindered in their development any more than they already have been by the unfortunate circumstances of their birth.
I guess what I'm saying, Bernard, is keep up the good work. If you would like to get in touch with me, I have disconnected my telephone and deleted all my email accounts, as from now on I will be communicating only via open letters, but feel free to drop me an open letter any time, whether on your own site, on Mamamia, on The Punch, or on Aussie Joe Bugner's official fan club Facebook page. Explicit photos of yourself can, as always, be dropped in my home mailbox.
Yours in Christ,
Ben Pobjie (future prime minister)
Dear Bernard,
I am writing this open letter because, as I am sure you know, open letters are how we get things done in this country. I myself am currently running for prime minister, and I can assure you that when elected I will be pursuing a very open-letter-heavy agenda.
As I was reading your letter to Mia Freedman, I couldn't help but notice that you are extremely stupid, and so I wondered if you had any advice for me as a parent. My children are still too young for any definitive conclusions to be made, but early testing indicates they are at risk of being stupid as well, so I was wondering whether you have any tips about how to live a fulfilling life as a stupid person: what sort of obstacles and prejudices have you faced, and what kind of strategies do you put in place to overcome your stupidity? I hear that meditation is good - do you meditate? Probably not because meditation is a bit gay, but maybe if we meditate about karate movies it would be all right.
Your views on homosexual teachers are quite interesting and merit further examination. Like you, I once went to a school and was shocked by the amount of penetrative sex that goes on in the average classroom. While I understand that there will always be times when curriculum requirements necessitate sexual intercourse between teachers and students, I, like you, am worried that if homosexuality is normalised, this sexual intercourse may cease being strictly heterosexual, as is traditional in Australian schools, and begin to be homosexual, which is a bit gross, isn't it? I read a book once about homosexual intercourse and I was shocked at the things those people do to each other. As Catholics, you and I know that some things should not be put inside other things. You wouldn't stuff a turkey with a ferret, would you? No.
But likewise, as a good Catholic I am sure you will agree there is no need to actually ban penetrative sex in classroom environments: we must be careful that the cure does not become worse than the disease, causing our children to grow up having no idea what sex with teachers feels like at all. We just need to find a way to stop our kids becoming "gay". By the way, did you know your name has "gay" in it? That's pretty funny isn't it? Did kids make fun of you at school and call you Gay Bernard? Or did they mainly make fun of you for being stupid? At my school we made fun of stupid kids mostly, but if we'd had a boy with "gay" in his name things might have been different.
Why does "gay" mean "homosexual" anyway? Wouldn't it better if we went back to "gay" meaning "happy", and came up with a new word for homosexuals, like "Demoncocks"? I would like to hear your thoughts on this. Maybe you could come over to my house and watch karate movies with me and we could talk about it. I promise not to let the evening progress beyond some light kissing.
Most of all I want to throw my support behind your desire to allow parents the right to decide who teaches their children. Personally I would like my children to be taught by boxing legend "Aussie Joe" Bugner, but as yet the Department of Education has been stypically stiff-necked and refuses to allow even an hour a week of Bugner lessons, let alone the full-time Aussie Joe curriculum that I would prefer. Bureaucracy, huh? It is very gay.
I'm not saying that you should also let your kids be taught by Aussie Joe, of course. I think that you should be allowed to select whichever former boxing great you like to teach your children. I hope you choose wisely, as I'd hate to see your children be hindered in their development any more than they already have been by the unfortunate circumstances of their birth.
I guess what I'm saying, Bernard, is keep up the good work. If you would like to get in touch with me, I have disconnected my telephone and deleted all my email accounts, as from now on I will be communicating only via open letters, but feel free to drop me an open letter any time, whether on your own site, on Mamamia, on The Punch, or on Aussie Joe Bugner's official fan club Facebook page. Explicit photos of yourself can, as always, be dropped in my home mailbox.
Yours in Christ,
Ben Pobjie (future prime minister)
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
A Matter Of Concern
I am concerned. One might even say worried. That's not such an unusual statement, of course: in this world there are many things to be concerned about, such as the government, the actions of the government, the individual members of the government, the malicious intentions of the government, et al. But there are times when, believe it or not, I can manage to divert my mind from the impending socio-cultural rape of the nation by Bob Brown and find a way to worry about other, more specific and pressing matters.
In particular, today I am worried about Fred Nile.
Now don't get me wrong - I have nothing against Mr Nile. I realise there are those who would dub him a creepy liver-spotted hobgoblin whose diseased mind is fixated purely on the goal of making others as miserable as his own decayed psyche has caused him to become; but I do not condemn in this way. I say live and let live, irrespective of whether you are an ethically deranged half-man half-toad with as much moral sensibility as a pubic louse and all the capacity for compassion of a paedophiliac vulture. I pride myself on my willingness to tolerate and accept the lifestyle choices of all my fellow citizens, and if (I say IF) Mr Nile's personal preference is to live his life as a shrivel-hearted, wither-witted, soul-stunted bible-frotter with a strength of belief in his own dogmatic ideology of anti-human hatred that is matched only by the intensity of mania which he brings to his perverted obsession with his own hopelessly malformed view of the sexual behaviour of complete strangers - well, that's no skin off my nose. I pass no judgment. That's for Our Lord to do.
But what worries me is when people try to promulgate their own particular lifestyle choices into the public sphere. I am rather afraid that Fred Nile, by wilfully being Fred Nile right out in public where everyone can see him, may be sending a message to our society that being Fred Nile is somehow acceptable. After all, it is one thing to be Fred Nile in the privacy of one's own home; it is quite another to be Fred Nile where impressionable children can see you.
And it is, as always, the children who I am concerned about. Is it really fair to a child, at an age when their values and opinions are not yet fully-formed and they are extremely susceptible to suggestion from adults and the mass media, to expose them to the Fred Nile lifestyle? The danger is that they may absorb the idea that being Fred Nile is perfectly normal, that it is, in fact, a natural thing to be. Is that the sort of thing we want to teach our children? Shouldn't we wait until they are fully grown and let them make up their own minds whether being Fred Nile is a good thing?
I mean, look, I am no prude. I am no wowser. I am no, for want of a better word, Celia from Home and Away. I think that Fred Nile should be free to live his life without harassment, and even to marry and have children if that's what he wants for himself. I just object to him shoving himself down our throats. There is such a thing as decency, and I think it betrays a shocking decline in the standards of civilised western society that in our once decorous and respectful community, we now barely bat an eyelid at the sight of someone blatantly and shamelessly being Fred Nile, in broad daylight!
I can remember a time when being Fred Nile was purely a matter for consenting adults behind closed doors. Now it seems Fred Nile is everywhere, on our TV screens, in our newspapers, even in our churches - surely the one place one would have thought one could rely on for an upholding of community standards. The danger we face is that this saturation of Fred Nile, forever being rammed into our faces, will result in a situation where being Fred Nile becomes fashionable, or "cool".
I just worry that if this trend continues, if we keep on sending the message to our youth that being Fred Nile is not only normal, but also, somehow, admirable, we run the risk that they will grow up wanting to be Fred Nile themselves. And is that what we really want? Is that the future we want for our kids?
Look, I'm a realist. I know it's the 21st century and there are some concessions we must make to the modern world. But surely, even while accepting there are certain social phenomena that will always be with us, we can stand up for deceny and moral rectitude? Surely we can fight to keep those less desirable aspects of modernity in their proper place, quarantined from the activities of upright citizens?
That's all I'm saying - I don't want to ban Fred Nile, I just want to make sure that if people want to be Fred Nile, they keep it in the right and proper place - their own homes, and parliament.
Let's keep pushing for the Australia we all want to live in. Don't let YOUR children get sucked in by Nile-ist propaganda.
If you'd like to know more about the Movement For The Insulation Of Children From Fred Nile, contact NSW Premier Barry O'Farrell for a nice chat.
In particular, today I am worried about Fred Nile.
Now don't get me wrong - I have nothing against Mr Nile. I realise there are those who would dub him a creepy liver-spotted hobgoblin whose diseased mind is fixated purely on the goal of making others as miserable as his own decayed psyche has caused him to become; but I do not condemn in this way. I say live and let live, irrespective of whether you are an ethically deranged half-man half-toad with as much moral sensibility as a pubic louse and all the capacity for compassion of a paedophiliac vulture. I pride myself on my willingness to tolerate and accept the lifestyle choices of all my fellow citizens, and if (I say IF) Mr Nile's personal preference is to live his life as a shrivel-hearted, wither-witted, soul-stunted bible-frotter with a strength of belief in his own dogmatic ideology of anti-human hatred that is matched only by the intensity of mania which he brings to his perverted obsession with his own hopelessly malformed view of the sexual behaviour of complete strangers - well, that's no skin off my nose. I pass no judgment. That's for Our Lord to do.
But what worries me is when people try to promulgate their own particular lifestyle choices into the public sphere. I am rather afraid that Fred Nile, by wilfully being Fred Nile right out in public where everyone can see him, may be sending a message to our society that being Fred Nile is somehow acceptable. After all, it is one thing to be Fred Nile in the privacy of one's own home; it is quite another to be Fred Nile where impressionable children can see you.
And it is, as always, the children who I am concerned about. Is it really fair to a child, at an age when their values and opinions are not yet fully-formed and they are extremely susceptible to suggestion from adults and the mass media, to expose them to the Fred Nile lifestyle? The danger is that they may absorb the idea that being Fred Nile is perfectly normal, that it is, in fact, a natural thing to be. Is that the sort of thing we want to teach our children? Shouldn't we wait until they are fully grown and let them make up their own minds whether being Fred Nile is a good thing?
I mean, look, I am no prude. I am no wowser. I am no, for want of a better word, Celia from Home and Away. I think that Fred Nile should be free to live his life without harassment, and even to marry and have children if that's what he wants for himself. I just object to him shoving himself down our throats. There is such a thing as decency, and I think it betrays a shocking decline in the standards of civilised western society that in our once decorous and respectful community, we now barely bat an eyelid at the sight of someone blatantly and shamelessly being Fred Nile, in broad daylight!
I can remember a time when being Fred Nile was purely a matter for consenting adults behind closed doors. Now it seems Fred Nile is everywhere, on our TV screens, in our newspapers, even in our churches - surely the one place one would have thought one could rely on for an upholding of community standards. The danger we face is that this saturation of Fred Nile, forever being rammed into our faces, will result in a situation where being Fred Nile becomes fashionable, or "cool".
I just worry that if this trend continues, if we keep on sending the message to our youth that being Fred Nile is not only normal, but also, somehow, admirable, we run the risk that they will grow up wanting to be Fred Nile themselves. And is that what we really want? Is that the future we want for our kids?
Look, I'm a realist. I know it's the 21st century and there are some concessions we must make to the modern world. But surely, even while accepting there are certain social phenomena that will always be with us, we can stand up for deceny and moral rectitude? Surely we can fight to keep those less desirable aspects of modernity in their proper place, quarantined from the activities of upright citizens?
That's all I'm saying - I don't want to ban Fred Nile, I just want to make sure that if people want to be Fred Nile, they keep it in the right and proper place - their own homes, and parliament.
Let's keep pushing for the Australia we all want to live in. Don't let YOUR children get sucked in by Nile-ist propaganda.
If you'd like to know more about the Movement For The Insulation Of Children From Fred Nile, contact NSW Premier Barry O'Farrell for a nice chat.
Monday, May 23, 2011
BEN POBJIE'S EXCLUSIVE PRIVATE RAPTURE DIARY
As you will remember, the Rapture was on Saturday. If you followed my instructions, you are no doubt living it up in Paradise with the rest of us good Christians. However, let's face it, most of you are irredeemable bastards, so I thought I should keep a diary of my experiences since being Raptured. I started the diary at 6pm Saturday, when the blessed event happened. Some of my observations were already shared on Twitter, but this is a more comprehensive, no-holds-barred, frank look at life in Heaven that I hope you find enlightening and instructive as you dodge molten lava and have Satan nibble your earlobes while waiting for the destruction of the universe. Welcome!
BEN POBJIE'S EXCLUSIVE PRIVATE RAPTURE DIARY!
Saturday, 21st May
6pm: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
6.01pm: I feel that travelling at this speed while naked is not healthy. A distinct flapping effect.
6.03pm: From up here, everyone looks like ants. Ironically, the ants look extremely large. Asked David Attenborough why as he floated past on an updraft. He explained that at this height, the ants' natural ascorbic acid creates a prism effect, making them look over three thousand times their actual size. I had a follow-up question but he started accusing me of staring at his "manly jolly-parts", so I didn't press the issue.
6.06pm: Well, here we are. A lot of people standing around looking a bit lost. Everyone covering their crotches with their hands, or magazines. Asked the man next to me where you get the magazines. He looked very shifty and ran away.
6.10pm: Some angels have appeared and given us clothes. In Heaven you get to wear whatever you want, but until we're checked in we all have to wear Jedi robes. There seems to be no explanation for this, but we're all afraid to ask because the head angel looks really mean. Well to be fair he doesn't really look mean but he has a very off-putting mole right between his eyes. So it seems mean to call him mean but I bet he is because that mole would make anyone bitter. The angels are herding us towards the check-in desk.
6.12pm: The concierge here is VERY rude.
6.15pm: Having checked in, we are each given a room. My room is quite nice and has a view of the river (not sure which one). Unfortunately though, everyone has to share a toilet. My toilet is shared with Scott Stapp, the singer from Creed. I foresee this causing problems in future.
6.45pm: Relaxing in the common room. From some of the behaviour here, frankly I am surprised these people got Raptured at all. Kirk Cameron just whispered in my ear that he is "bi-curious". Don't know what to do with this information. Spared having to make decision on the spot because Kirk was distracted by Fred Nile's elephant impression.
7pm: Before dinner was summoned to God's office for post-Rapture debrief. God looks much as I expected he would, but wears horn-rimmed glasses. Also he has the feet of a weasel for some reason. He asked me if I would like some tea, and I accepted, which made him cry. "We have no tea," he kept moaning over and over. It was a bit usnettling, but he got over it, and asked me how I liked Heaven so far. I said it was great, but the towels in my room were a little small. He promised to look into it, but in a very sarcastic tone, so I don't know. I asked him what people in Heaven did for fun. He said chia pets were very popular. We then spent about a minute just sort of staring tenseley at each other. Finally God gave me a kiss and told me he was happy I was there and to see him if I ever needed anything. I asked him for a coffee and he punched me. On the way out of his office I ran into Jesus, who tried to sell me a capgun. I didn't have any money so I couldn't. Jesus called me a girl, but I think he was just over-tired.
7.30pm: Dinner time! We assembled in the mess hall for dinner. Dinner was a little late, which went down badly with some of the Raptured. In particular, George Pell becamse very rambunctious, banging his fork on the table and making loud shrieking noises until a basket of bread was brought to his table. When menus arrived, disappointed to discover that in Heaven you have a choice between two dishes: tuna or devon sandwiches. I asked an angel whether it was the same every night; he said on Friday nights you get a chicken stock cube.
7.45pm: Dinner becoming very tedious. Partly because the tablecloths show such a lack of flair; mainly because I am seated next to the Archangel Gabriel, who has been monopolising the conversation by reciting his list of reasons That 80s Show should be brought back. I tried to break the monotony by asking about his wife, but he didn't even seem to notice me.
8pm: Frankly, this devon is sub-par.
8.21pm: After dinner we adjourn to the recreation area. It is becoming apparent that there is a certain amount of tension between the pre-dead and the Raptured, or "Rapties", as they call us. I was discussing this issue with Guy Sebastian, and he said it was just because Daryl Somers had spent the whole time since he got here naked rubbing himself against the Bronte sisters, but I think it goes deeper. It's racism, IMO.
8.34pm: Cliff Richard is drunk already. He's strutting around the hot tub, telling everyone he's changed his name to Lovepistol von Gigglepants, and demanding chicken Twisties.Jesus is having a word to him, but Cliff keeps poking his belly and making Jesus laugh. I don't know why Jesus is so ticklish.
9pm: Back to my room. It's lights out at 10pm, which seems unfair. And also pointless given that in Heaven everyone has night vision. Trying to program my clock radio, which seems needlessly complicated. I tested the alarm and was nearly frightened to death when a porcelain Virgin Mary shot out the top of the clock and squirted breast milk in my face. Hard to concentrate because of the sound of Scott Stapp gargling in the bathroom. He asked if I wanted to come gargle with him, but I said I didn't actually know what that would entail. He said it would be incredibly painful so I said no.
9.23pm: Just about to turn in for the night when I discovered Rene Goscinny in there. Says he's doing "research" and will be finished soon. Give up and go out drinking with Charlemagne.
9.30pm: Charlemagne is not all he's cracked up to be. Keeps yelling out to women, asking if they want to see his scar. Wasn't so bad until he said it to Jennifer Aniston. Now she thinks I'm a weirdo because I'm his friend.
9.36pm: Heaven's drinks selection is incredibly limited. There are only three brands of beer, or milk. Admittedly up here milk gives you superpowers, but still.
9.57pm: Cliff Richard has reached the maudlin stage. Keeps telling me I remind him of his mother and asking me if I'll go on a rowboating holiday with him. Said yes just to shut him up, hope he doesn't remember this tomorrow.
10.34pm: Back in my room. Stapp STILL gargling! Has he been doing it non-stop? He must have taken at least a short break, because he is now wearing a cowboy outfit. Asked him why, he said "Jesus told me to". If we weren't in Heaven would be inclined to disbelieve this.
10.39pm: Goscinny still in my bed. Refuses to get out. Says if I get in "just to cuddle", he'll put me in the new Asterix book. Why do people lie so much in Heaven?
11pm: Can't sleep. Miranda Devine throwing pebbles at my window.
11.03pm: Miranda will not give up. Has started yelling, asking if I want "Seven Minutes In Heaven". Leaned out to tell her how inappaopriate this was, and saw things I never want to see again.
11.34pm: Finally asleep. Not sure how I'm writing this. It's a Heaven thing I guess.
Sunday, 22nd May
3am: Had a fright. Turns out Heaven has a rule where seraphs get free access to all mini-bars. Woke up to a bunch of angels fighting over a can of Pepsi and a Kit-Kat.
7am: Woken up by Jesus storming into the bedroom, banging a saucepan with a spoon and screaming "On your feet, Cocks!" No idea why, since once we were up he just made us stand in a field for an hour. Asked him what we were supposed to be doing, he said, "Looking for animal shapes in the clouds". Didn't feel I could ask any more questions after that.
8.30am: Breakfast time. Everyone gets rice bubbles. I asked if I could have some honey, but the waitress just laughed. Seemed strange, but then I realised the waitress was Katharine Hepburn, which made a lot more sense.
9am: Had some free time, so wandered about the place taking stock. There are some lovely landscaped gardens in Heaven, though I feel they should install some surveillance cameras given the number of drug deals being done openly about the place. Passed a bush where Elvis and Marie Curie were frantically copulating. Found this less strange than I would have expected.
9.24am: Not surprised that Mother Teresa is here. A little surprised that she's working the main floor at a motor show.
9.35am: Dropped in on a concert in the park. God encourages musical expression in Heaven, but the only music he likes is Joshua Kadison. This was the subject of quite an argument last night, when Elton John asked if he could put on a show, and God agreed as long as he only played the songs of Joshua Kadison. Elton became very angry, but God won the argument by saying, "I know what you get up to at night", and twisting Elton's nipple really hard. Anyway this morning Elton is playing in the park. The only song he knows is "Jessie", so he's playing that a lot, but his delivery is great. Ironically, Joshua Kadison himself was left behind. Asked Jesus why this was, and he told me it was a "motor skills thing".
10am: Playing netball. This is apparently compulsory in Heaven, seven days a week. God is the umpire. He seems to enjoy the job a little bit too much.
11.30am: Still playing netball. Exhausting.
12am: Finally lunchtime. We don't eat lunch in the mess hall, but rather in Jesus's Dinner Theatre, which means we have to listen to his stand-up while we eat. He's pretty awful - mostly relying on obscene actions with the holes in his hands, and a lot of jokes about Stalin. For some reason he thinks Stalin is incredibly funny. Quite relieved when he finishes and St Peter comes on with his performing puppies.
1.30pm: More netball.
2.30pm: Was ushered into a seminar: "Heaven: Your New Home", where we learned about Heaven. I was sat next to Fred Nile. Tried to strike up a conversation, but he was sulking because Kirk Cameron had put the moves on me and not him. Keeps carving "I H8 Ben" in his desk with a compass. The lecture was very informative though. We found out the system of government in Heaven is basically Republican, where God is the president, Jesus is Prime Minister, and Jane Austen is Foreign Secretary.
2.55pm: Met Jane Austen. Asked her why Heaven needed a Foreign Secretary. She stuck two fingers up my nose and threw me into a wall. "Any more questions, bitch?" she hissed.
3.18pm: Time for the Daily 3.18 Prayers. We all gather on the Prayer Diamond and throw confetti at God while he does burnouts on his motorbike.
4pm. Stopped in for tea with Stephen Hawking. He told me he still doesn't believe in an afterlife. I told him he was in denial. He said he refuses to accept the evidence of his own eyes and will only accept proofs in manila folders. It was weird to hear him talking without his voicebox. I never knew he had a Jamaican accent.
4.58pm: Nasty incident in the common room, Einstein just referred to Archbishop Jensen as "Raptie scum". Jensen pulled a knife and things look like getting ugly.
6pm: We're all in the common room, still shaken after the rumble in the common room. Justin Bieber just got his guitar out and started a singalong of "Beautiful in My Eyes", but our hearts just aren't in it. Einstein's gashed thigh just keeps rising in our brains.
8pm: Dinner still hasn't arrived. Rumours of a chefs' strike are sweeping the hall. Julia Child is said to be demanding greater leave loading. Heston Blumenthal is standing on his table urinating on people. Anarchy looms. Jesus came in to try to keep the peace, but retreated under a blizzard of fortune cookies.
8.28pm: Dinner finally here. We are eating in an atmosphere of sullen rebellion. God wandering round the hall muttering "Second day and already everything's gone to bloody buggery". The Virgin Mary keeps making desperate attempts to lighten the mood with references to Waldorf Salad. Nobody's buying it. Particularly not Prunella Scales, who's been demanding to be return to earth since she got here.
9pm: Retired to bed. Have worked out a system with Goscinny whereby I cuddle him for half an hour, then he has to get into the wardrobe and let me sleep. He says my character's name will be "Beneficix".
9.15pm: Can faintly hear Miranda down the road, yelling at Hugh Grant. Can faintly hear Taylor Hanson in the next room, tattooing his brothers in their sleep. Uncomfortable. Jesus short-sheeted my bed. I think it was retaliation for my mistaking him for Sophie B. Hawkins yesterday.
9.35pm: Finally it's quiet. Feel myself drifting off to sleep, to my great relief, since tomorrow we start "basic training". Not sure what this means, but noticed St Paul squatting outside the information centre fingering a machete. A bit nervous.
Monday, 23rd May
2.46pm: For fuck's sake, that dickhead is gargling AGAIN.
BEN POBJIE'S EXCLUSIVE PRIVATE RAPTURE DIARY!
Saturday, 21st May
6pm: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
6.01pm: I feel that travelling at this speed while naked is not healthy. A distinct flapping effect.
6.03pm: From up here, everyone looks like ants. Ironically, the ants look extremely large. Asked David Attenborough why as he floated past on an updraft. He explained that at this height, the ants' natural ascorbic acid creates a prism effect, making them look over three thousand times their actual size. I had a follow-up question but he started accusing me of staring at his "manly jolly-parts", so I didn't press the issue.
6.06pm: Well, here we are. A lot of people standing around looking a bit lost. Everyone covering their crotches with their hands, or magazines. Asked the man next to me where you get the magazines. He looked very shifty and ran away.
6.10pm: Some angels have appeared and given us clothes. In Heaven you get to wear whatever you want, but until we're checked in we all have to wear Jedi robes. There seems to be no explanation for this, but we're all afraid to ask because the head angel looks really mean. Well to be fair he doesn't really look mean but he has a very off-putting mole right between his eyes. So it seems mean to call him mean but I bet he is because that mole would make anyone bitter. The angels are herding us towards the check-in desk.
6.12pm: The concierge here is VERY rude.
6.15pm: Having checked in, we are each given a room. My room is quite nice and has a view of the river (not sure which one). Unfortunately though, everyone has to share a toilet. My toilet is shared with Scott Stapp, the singer from Creed. I foresee this causing problems in future.
6.45pm: Relaxing in the common room. From some of the behaviour here, frankly I am surprised these people got Raptured at all. Kirk Cameron just whispered in my ear that he is "bi-curious". Don't know what to do with this information. Spared having to make decision on the spot because Kirk was distracted by Fred Nile's elephant impression.
7pm: Before dinner was summoned to God's office for post-Rapture debrief. God looks much as I expected he would, but wears horn-rimmed glasses. Also he has the feet of a weasel for some reason. He asked me if I would like some tea, and I accepted, which made him cry. "We have no tea," he kept moaning over and over. It was a bit usnettling, but he got over it, and asked me how I liked Heaven so far. I said it was great, but the towels in my room were a little small. He promised to look into it, but in a very sarcastic tone, so I don't know. I asked him what people in Heaven did for fun. He said chia pets were very popular. We then spent about a minute just sort of staring tenseley at each other. Finally God gave me a kiss and told me he was happy I was there and to see him if I ever needed anything. I asked him for a coffee and he punched me. On the way out of his office I ran into Jesus, who tried to sell me a capgun. I didn't have any money so I couldn't. Jesus called me a girl, but I think he was just over-tired.
7.30pm: Dinner time! We assembled in the mess hall for dinner. Dinner was a little late, which went down badly with some of the Raptured. In particular, George Pell becamse very rambunctious, banging his fork on the table and making loud shrieking noises until a basket of bread was brought to his table. When menus arrived, disappointed to discover that in Heaven you have a choice between two dishes: tuna or devon sandwiches. I asked an angel whether it was the same every night; he said on Friday nights you get a chicken stock cube.
7.45pm: Dinner becoming very tedious. Partly because the tablecloths show such a lack of flair; mainly because I am seated next to the Archangel Gabriel, who has been monopolising the conversation by reciting his list of reasons That 80s Show should be brought back. I tried to break the monotony by asking about his wife, but he didn't even seem to notice me.
8pm: Frankly, this devon is sub-par.
8.21pm: After dinner we adjourn to the recreation area. It is becoming apparent that there is a certain amount of tension between the pre-dead and the Raptured, or "Rapties", as they call us. I was discussing this issue with Guy Sebastian, and he said it was just because Daryl Somers had spent the whole time since he got here naked rubbing himself against the Bronte sisters, but I think it goes deeper. It's racism, IMO.
8.34pm: Cliff Richard is drunk already. He's strutting around the hot tub, telling everyone he's changed his name to Lovepistol von Gigglepants, and demanding chicken Twisties.Jesus is having a word to him, but Cliff keeps poking his belly and making Jesus laugh. I don't know why Jesus is so ticklish.
9pm: Back to my room. It's lights out at 10pm, which seems unfair. And also pointless given that in Heaven everyone has night vision. Trying to program my clock radio, which seems needlessly complicated. I tested the alarm and was nearly frightened to death when a porcelain Virgin Mary shot out the top of the clock and squirted breast milk in my face. Hard to concentrate because of the sound of Scott Stapp gargling in the bathroom. He asked if I wanted to come gargle with him, but I said I didn't actually know what that would entail. He said it would be incredibly painful so I said no.
9.23pm: Just about to turn in for the night when I discovered Rene Goscinny in there. Says he's doing "research" and will be finished soon. Give up and go out drinking with Charlemagne.
9.30pm: Charlemagne is not all he's cracked up to be. Keeps yelling out to women, asking if they want to see his scar. Wasn't so bad until he said it to Jennifer Aniston. Now she thinks I'm a weirdo because I'm his friend.
9.36pm: Heaven's drinks selection is incredibly limited. There are only three brands of beer, or milk. Admittedly up here milk gives you superpowers, but still.
9.57pm: Cliff Richard has reached the maudlin stage. Keeps telling me I remind him of his mother and asking me if I'll go on a rowboating holiday with him. Said yes just to shut him up, hope he doesn't remember this tomorrow.
10.34pm: Back in my room. Stapp STILL gargling! Has he been doing it non-stop? He must have taken at least a short break, because he is now wearing a cowboy outfit. Asked him why, he said "Jesus told me to". If we weren't in Heaven would be inclined to disbelieve this.
10.39pm: Goscinny still in my bed. Refuses to get out. Says if I get in "just to cuddle", he'll put me in the new Asterix book. Why do people lie so much in Heaven?
11pm: Can't sleep. Miranda Devine throwing pebbles at my window.
11.03pm: Miranda will not give up. Has started yelling, asking if I want "Seven Minutes In Heaven". Leaned out to tell her how inappaopriate this was, and saw things I never want to see again.
11.34pm: Finally asleep. Not sure how I'm writing this. It's a Heaven thing I guess.
Sunday, 22nd May
3am: Had a fright. Turns out Heaven has a rule where seraphs get free access to all mini-bars. Woke up to a bunch of angels fighting over a can of Pepsi and a Kit-Kat.
7am: Woken up by Jesus storming into the bedroom, banging a saucepan with a spoon and screaming "On your feet, Cocks!" No idea why, since once we were up he just made us stand in a field for an hour. Asked him what we were supposed to be doing, he said, "Looking for animal shapes in the clouds". Didn't feel I could ask any more questions after that.
8.30am: Breakfast time. Everyone gets rice bubbles. I asked if I could have some honey, but the waitress just laughed. Seemed strange, but then I realised the waitress was Katharine Hepburn, which made a lot more sense.
9am: Had some free time, so wandered about the place taking stock. There are some lovely landscaped gardens in Heaven, though I feel they should install some surveillance cameras given the number of drug deals being done openly about the place. Passed a bush where Elvis and Marie Curie were frantically copulating. Found this less strange than I would have expected.
9.24am: Not surprised that Mother Teresa is here. A little surprised that she's working the main floor at a motor show.
9.35am: Dropped in on a concert in the park. God encourages musical expression in Heaven, but the only music he likes is Joshua Kadison. This was the subject of quite an argument last night, when Elton John asked if he could put on a show, and God agreed as long as he only played the songs of Joshua Kadison. Elton became very angry, but God won the argument by saying, "I know what you get up to at night", and twisting Elton's nipple really hard. Anyway this morning Elton is playing in the park. The only song he knows is "Jessie", so he's playing that a lot, but his delivery is great. Ironically, Joshua Kadison himself was left behind. Asked Jesus why this was, and he told me it was a "motor skills thing".
10am: Playing netball. This is apparently compulsory in Heaven, seven days a week. God is the umpire. He seems to enjoy the job a little bit too much.
11.30am: Still playing netball. Exhausting.
12am: Finally lunchtime. We don't eat lunch in the mess hall, but rather in Jesus's Dinner Theatre, which means we have to listen to his stand-up while we eat. He's pretty awful - mostly relying on obscene actions with the holes in his hands, and a lot of jokes about Stalin. For some reason he thinks Stalin is incredibly funny. Quite relieved when he finishes and St Peter comes on with his performing puppies.
1.30pm: More netball.
2.30pm: Was ushered into a seminar: "Heaven: Your New Home", where we learned about Heaven. I was sat next to Fred Nile. Tried to strike up a conversation, but he was sulking because Kirk Cameron had put the moves on me and not him. Keeps carving "I H8 Ben" in his desk with a compass. The lecture was very informative though. We found out the system of government in Heaven is basically Republican, where God is the president, Jesus is Prime Minister, and Jane Austen is Foreign Secretary.
2.55pm: Met Jane Austen. Asked her why Heaven needed a Foreign Secretary. She stuck two fingers up my nose and threw me into a wall. "Any more questions, bitch?" she hissed.
3.18pm: Time for the Daily 3.18 Prayers. We all gather on the Prayer Diamond and throw confetti at God while he does burnouts on his motorbike.
4pm. Stopped in for tea with Stephen Hawking. He told me he still doesn't believe in an afterlife. I told him he was in denial. He said he refuses to accept the evidence of his own eyes and will only accept proofs in manila folders. It was weird to hear him talking without his voicebox. I never knew he had a Jamaican accent.
4.58pm: Nasty incident in the common room, Einstein just referred to Archbishop Jensen as "Raptie scum". Jensen pulled a knife and things look like getting ugly.
6pm: We're all in the common room, still shaken after the rumble in the common room. Justin Bieber just got his guitar out and started a singalong of "Beautiful in My Eyes", but our hearts just aren't in it. Einstein's gashed thigh just keeps rising in our brains.
8pm: Dinner still hasn't arrived. Rumours of a chefs' strike are sweeping the hall. Julia Child is said to be demanding greater leave loading. Heston Blumenthal is standing on his table urinating on people. Anarchy looms. Jesus came in to try to keep the peace, but retreated under a blizzard of fortune cookies.
8.28pm: Dinner finally here. We are eating in an atmosphere of sullen rebellion. God wandering round the hall muttering "Second day and already everything's gone to bloody buggery". The Virgin Mary keeps making desperate attempts to lighten the mood with references to Waldorf Salad. Nobody's buying it. Particularly not Prunella Scales, who's been demanding to be return to earth since she got here.
9pm: Retired to bed. Have worked out a system with Goscinny whereby I cuddle him for half an hour, then he has to get into the wardrobe and let me sleep. He says my character's name will be "Beneficix".
9.15pm: Can faintly hear Miranda down the road, yelling at Hugh Grant. Can faintly hear Taylor Hanson in the next room, tattooing his brothers in their sleep. Uncomfortable. Jesus short-sheeted my bed. I think it was retaliation for my mistaking him for Sophie B. Hawkins yesterday.
9.35pm: Finally it's quiet. Feel myself drifting off to sleep, to my great relief, since tomorrow we start "basic training". Not sure what this means, but noticed St Paul squatting outside the information centre fingering a machete. A bit nervous.
Monday, 23rd May
2.46pm: For fuck's sake, that dickhead is gargling AGAIN.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
People Get Ready...
Hi! Have you heard about The RAPTURE? It's coming tomorrow, May 21st, and it's just about the most exciting thing to happen to the world of People and Things since the premiere of the film Annie.
Basically what will happen is all the good people in the world will get sucked up to Heaven, a lot like what happens when you run a vacuum cleaner over a peanut shell. But imagine your vacuum cleaner's bag is heaven, and the peanut shell is a good Christian. Like maybe Fred Nile or TV's Patricia Heaton.
However, the bad people are like those little bits of sticky stuff that you don't really know what they are but you can't get them off the carpet unless you bend down and use your nails for, like, AGES. But God has no time to use His nails, he is a busy man with many tsunamis to calibrate, so he uses his vacuum cleaner, and all the people who are not good Christians will get left on earth and be ruled over by the Anti-Christ, AKA "Stevie".
So it's going to be fun for everyone really: for good Christians, eternity in Heaven, where anal sex is permissible as long as it's with an angel, and friendly ghosts are everywhere. For non-Christians, slavery and volcanoes, which has its drawbacks, but on the upside anal sex will be OK down here as well.
However, the Rapture itself may be a little bit harrowing, what with the thunder and heavenly light and people going zooming up into the air just as they were handing you your chicken royale. It's going to be a lot like sniffing glue, only better and more frightening. Like sniffing REALLY GOOD glue. And that's why you need:
BEN POBJIE'S EASY TEN STEP GUIDE TO SURVIVING THE RAPTURE ONLY NOT LITERALLY OBVIOUSLY BECAUSE IT IS THE RAPTURE
1. Wear warm, loose-fitting clothing. The Rapture is likely to be fairly chilly because of the low pressure system and Santa Claus, so it's important to wrap up warm so you don't get chilblains. Also your clothes should be loose-fitting so you don't get deep vein thrombosis, because anyone with deep vein thrombosis gets left behind.
2. Keep your head between your knees. When the Rapture comes, it will produce a real jolt, and you could get whiplash if you are not in the brace position. You will not enjoy Heaven if your neck hurts. You won't enjoy earth either. I mean you won't enjoy earth either because there'll be an earthquake and you'll get raped by vultures, but the neck thing will just be salt in the wound.
3. Eat lots of leafy green vegetables. This will be good for digestion and help you lose weight. Anyone with a BMI of over 25 gets left behind, so it's important to eat right and exercise. Now, the Rpature is tomorrow, so you may have left it a little bit late, but leafy vegetables are still great for improving your general sense of wellbeing, and also you will be supporting our local farmers, which would be nice, given they will be left behind because farmers are hated by God.
4. Dance like nobody's watching. This will give everyone a good laugh.
5. Get your financial affairs in order. I'm not really sure what this means, but it seems like good advice. I guess it means, like, paying your phone bill? And take all your money out of your account so you have it to hand, and that way you won't get taken by surprise by the direct debits you forgot you had. The Rapture only takes payment by direct debit, which is annoying, but what can you do?
6. Humanely slaughter your pets. They will miss you when you're gone, and they will suffer under Stevie's iron fist, so best put them out of their misery now. A good thing to do beforehand is scream abuse at them, and maybe torture them a bit, with needles or pliers or something. That way when the end comes they will view it as a relief, and won't be scared.
7. Build an enormous wooden statue in your backyard. This statue can be of anyone you like, but it's important that it be very large, and that you set it on fire at sundown. This way, if you don't get taken up by the Rapture, you're in with a chance of randomly attracting the attention of another god who might take you instead. Covering all bases etc.
8. Have your hymen surgically reconstructed. It's worth a shot. God doesn't look into these things too closely. So to speak. If you are a man and are uncomfortable with the idea of having an artifical hymen fitted, dress as a priest.
9. Get a haircut. This isn't necessary, strictly speaking, but let's be honest you look a complete shambles. Do you want to look like a scarecrow when the Rapture comes? Even if it doesn't, get a haircut, you will NEVER EVER find happiness looking like that. Seriously, I tell you this for your own good, smarten yourself up, Shaggy. To be honest, it MIGHT be necessary, if Jesus has any taste.
10. Stop being such a dick.
Basically what will happen is all the good people in the world will get sucked up to Heaven, a lot like what happens when you run a vacuum cleaner over a peanut shell. But imagine your vacuum cleaner's bag is heaven, and the peanut shell is a good Christian. Like maybe Fred Nile or TV's Patricia Heaton.
However, the bad people are like those little bits of sticky stuff that you don't really know what they are but you can't get them off the carpet unless you bend down and use your nails for, like, AGES. But God has no time to use His nails, he is a busy man with many tsunamis to calibrate, so he uses his vacuum cleaner, and all the people who are not good Christians will get left on earth and be ruled over by the Anti-Christ, AKA "Stevie".
So it's going to be fun for everyone really: for good Christians, eternity in Heaven, where anal sex is permissible as long as it's with an angel, and friendly ghosts are everywhere. For non-Christians, slavery and volcanoes, which has its drawbacks, but on the upside anal sex will be OK down here as well.
However, the Rapture itself may be a little bit harrowing, what with the thunder and heavenly light and people going zooming up into the air just as they were handing you your chicken royale. It's going to be a lot like sniffing glue, only better and more frightening. Like sniffing REALLY GOOD glue. And that's why you need:
BEN POBJIE'S EASY TEN STEP GUIDE TO SURVIVING THE RAPTURE ONLY NOT LITERALLY OBVIOUSLY BECAUSE IT IS THE RAPTURE
1. Wear warm, loose-fitting clothing. The Rapture is likely to be fairly chilly because of the low pressure system and Santa Claus, so it's important to wrap up warm so you don't get chilblains. Also your clothes should be loose-fitting so you don't get deep vein thrombosis, because anyone with deep vein thrombosis gets left behind.
2. Keep your head between your knees. When the Rapture comes, it will produce a real jolt, and you could get whiplash if you are not in the brace position. You will not enjoy Heaven if your neck hurts. You won't enjoy earth either. I mean you won't enjoy earth either because there'll be an earthquake and you'll get raped by vultures, but the neck thing will just be salt in the wound.
3. Eat lots of leafy green vegetables. This will be good for digestion and help you lose weight. Anyone with a BMI of over 25 gets left behind, so it's important to eat right and exercise. Now, the Rpature is tomorrow, so you may have left it a little bit late, but leafy vegetables are still great for improving your general sense of wellbeing, and also you will be supporting our local farmers, which would be nice, given they will be left behind because farmers are hated by God.
4. Dance like nobody's watching. This will give everyone a good laugh.
5. Get your financial affairs in order. I'm not really sure what this means, but it seems like good advice. I guess it means, like, paying your phone bill? And take all your money out of your account so you have it to hand, and that way you won't get taken by surprise by the direct debits you forgot you had. The Rapture only takes payment by direct debit, which is annoying, but what can you do?
6. Humanely slaughter your pets. They will miss you when you're gone, and they will suffer under Stevie's iron fist, so best put them out of their misery now. A good thing to do beforehand is scream abuse at them, and maybe torture them a bit, with needles or pliers or something. That way when the end comes they will view it as a relief, and won't be scared.
7. Build an enormous wooden statue in your backyard. This statue can be of anyone you like, but it's important that it be very large, and that you set it on fire at sundown. This way, if you don't get taken up by the Rapture, you're in with a chance of randomly attracting the attention of another god who might take you instead. Covering all bases etc.
8. Have your hymen surgically reconstructed. It's worth a shot. God doesn't look into these things too closely. So to speak. If you are a man and are uncomfortable with the idea of having an artifical hymen fitted, dress as a priest.
9. Get a haircut. This isn't necessary, strictly speaking, but let's be honest you look a complete shambles. Do you want to look like a scarecrow when the Rapture comes? Even if it doesn't, get a haircut, you will NEVER EVER find happiness looking like that. Seriously, I tell you this for your own good, smarten yourself up, Shaggy. To be honest, it MIGHT be necessary, if Jesus has any taste.
10. Stop being such a dick.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
ATHEIST MYTHS DEBUNKED
As an atheist myself, I often find myself licking the blood from my fingers and thinking, Gee, wouldn't it be nice if there was more understanding in the world for those with alternative faith choices? Every day in the media I see another misconception about atheism being perpetuated by heartless believers who see fit to pass judgment on us without even going to the trouble of attending a Baby-Que to see for themselves what we're all about.
So I think it behooves me to here explode a few of the myths about atheists floating around out there.
1. ATHEISTS ARE JUST ANGRY AT THE CHURCH: This is simply NOT true. We are not JUST angry at the church; we are angry at all KINDS of people. Like our parents, the government, people who are happy and secure in our relationships. I am so SICK of atheists being painted as one-dimensional, as if it's just ONE thing that causes us to reject all sense of decency and social propriety. We have LOTS of motivations for our blind hatred, OK?
2. ATHEISTS WANT EVERYONE TO AGREE WITH THEM: No, we do NOT. We want SOME people to agree with us, sure. But MOST people we actually want killed. It's so unfair when people say things like, "Oh atheists, they're just trying to force their message down our throats". Not true: we're actually HAPPY if you disagree with us, because we're planning to exterminate you at our monthly Atheism Plot Meetings.
3. ATHEISM IS A RELIGION: Not at all - atheism is not the sort of structured belief system usually designated as "a religion" - it is in fact a very narrow set of beliefs more properly dubbed a "death cult". It really ticks us off when we get lumped in with the religious, when our soulles blend of nihilism and masochism is really very distinct.
4. ATHEISTS BELIEVE THERE IS NO GOD: I can hardly believe anyone actually thinks this anymore, but there you go. Suffice to say, atheists do NOT believe there is no God: we KNOW there is a God, but we reject Him because we want to smoke drugs and have anal sex all the time.
5. ATHEISTS ARE SENT BY SATAN TO TEMPT GOOD PEOPLE FROM THE RIGHT PATH: No, we tempt people from the right path purely for kicks.
6. ATHEISTS ARE ALL HOMOSEXUAL: Actually, many of us are heterosexual. of course, we indulge frequently in homosexual ACTS, because we live only to gratuitously offend people's sensibilities, but we don't ENJOY them. We don'y enjoy any sexual acts, since sex is only enjoyable with a person whom you love, and atheists are incapable of love.
7. ATHEISTS ARE ACTUALLY MUSLIMS IN DISGUISE WORKING TO SUBVERT DECENT CHRISTIAN SOCIETY: We are NOT Muslims. We just work for them.
8. ATHEISTS WORSHIP SCIENCE: None of us worship science; we all know science is rubbish, it's just something we came up with one night when we were trying to think of a way to corrupt the morals of young people. We do, however, worship Richard Dawkins, because of the mind-controlling injections he gave us.
9. ATHEISTS ARE UNHAPPY: As atheists we are incapable of ANY emotions, good or bad.
10. WITH NO SOURCE OF ULTIMATE MORAL AUTHORITY, ATHEISTS HAVE NO REASON NOT ROB, RAPE AND MURDER PEOPLE ALL THE TIME: Rubbish! We have a very GOOD reason: sometimes we get tired.
I hope that's clear now.
So I think it behooves me to here explode a few of the myths about atheists floating around out there.
1. ATHEISTS ARE JUST ANGRY AT THE CHURCH: This is simply NOT true. We are not JUST angry at the church; we are angry at all KINDS of people. Like our parents, the government, people who are happy and secure in our relationships. I am so SICK of atheists being painted as one-dimensional, as if it's just ONE thing that causes us to reject all sense of decency and social propriety. We have LOTS of motivations for our blind hatred, OK?
2. ATHEISTS WANT EVERYONE TO AGREE WITH THEM: No, we do NOT. We want SOME people to agree with us, sure. But MOST people we actually want killed. It's so unfair when people say things like, "Oh atheists, they're just trying to force their message down our throats". Not true: we're actually HAPPY if you disagree with us, because we're planning to exterminate you at our monthly Atheism Plot Meetings.
3. ATHEISM IS A RELIGION: Not at all - atheism is not the sort of structured belief system usually designated as "a religion" - it is in fact a very narrow set of beliefs more properly dubbed a "death cult". It really ticks us off when we get lumped in with the religious, when our soulles blend of nihilism and masochism is really very distinct.
4. ATHEISTS BELIEVE THERE IS NO GOD: I can hardly believe anyone actually thinks this anymore, but there you go. Suffice to say, atheists do NOT believe there is no God: we KNOW there is a God, but we reject Him because we want to smoke drugs and have anal sex all the time.
5. ATHEISTS ARE SENT BY SATAN TO TEMPT GOOD PEOPLE FROM THE RIGHT PATH: No, we tempt people from the right path purely for kicks.
6. ATHEISTS ARE ALL HOMOSEXUAL: Actually, many of us are heterosexual. of course, we indulge frequently in homosexual ACTS, because we live only to gratuitously offend people's sensibilities, but we don't ENJOY them. We don'y enjoy any sexual acts, since sex is only enjoyable with a person whom you love, and atheists are incapable of love.
7. ATHEISTS ARE ACTUALLY MUSLIMS IN DISGUISE WORKING TO SUBVERT DECENT CHRISTIAN SOCIETY: We are NOT Muslims. We just work for them.
8. ATHEISTS WORSHIP SCIENCE: None of us worship science; we all know science is rubbish, it's just something we came up with one night when we were trying to think of a way to corrupt the morals of young people. We do, however, worship Richard Dawkins, because of the mind-controlling injections he gave us.
9. ATHEISTS ARE UNHAPPY: As atheists we are incapable of ANY emotions, good or bad.
10. WITH NO SOURCE OF ULTIMATE MORAL AUTHORITY, ATHEISTS HAVE NO REASON NOT ROB, RAPE AND MURDER PEOPLE ALL THE TIME: Rubbish! We have a very GOOD reason: sometimes we get tired.
I hope that's clear now.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
In the Name of Balance
It has come to my attention that my latest piece on The Drum has attracted some criticism, along the lines of the assertion that while happy to bash innocent Catholics, I would never have the intestinal fortitude to bash people of alternative faiths.
Or as my most eloquent critic, "maz", writes, "It is not my opion but a fact that you have absolutely no legs to stand on"
To sum up, "You'd never have the guts to make fun of Muslims" is the prevailing attitude.
Now, I realise that the response of some of you readers will be, "What? Are they serious? What kind of fat-brained, worm-faced imbecile would actually possess the dunder-witted gall to voice this argument, given that it's not only factually inaccurate, but an intellectually bankrupt slab of nonsense that rests upon the premise that criticism of the flaws of an ideology or institution is invalid unless accompanied by criticism of the flaws of all other possible ideologies and institutions, as well as the assumption that a commentator or satirist should spend equal time on every potential target for insults or mockery no matter how obscure, inconsequential, anonymous, or devoid of impact upon broader society they are compared to others which exert massive influence over life in this country, are constantly in the public eye, and have recently received blanket coverage in print and electronic media across the country - in other words, commenting on things that matter to one's audience is invalid unless it comes with comment on things that don't? I mean, who are the morons trying to make this thrice-cursed abortion of an argument?"
Pretty harsh there, readers. Rude, almost. You should probably exercise a bit more tolerance before opening your mouth, if the above is all you can say.
Because for my part, I accept my critics' point, apologise for the hurt caused, and have decided to mend my ways. I therefore include below a quick compendium of religious attacks, which can be assumed to be appended to every future article I write on the subject of faith or gods. Ahem:
MUSLIMS! Geez, aren't Muslims crap? Praying five times a day? Geez, get off your knees and do some work. And covering up your women? What are you, gay?
JEWS! Man, do they ever shut up? Seriously, we GET it, Jews; life is hard. Change the record. And stop thinking you're so funny; nobody likes a smart-arse.
PROTESTANTS! Wow, don't get me started on protestants! What's wrong, too gutless to go full-Catholic? Pussies. You're just Catholics with bad taste in music, wankers.
MORMONS! Just piss off, Mormons. Get away from my house, get some better haircuts, and stop believing in idiotic stories about magic glasses. Everyone's laughing at you, dickheads.
HINDUS! What the hell is wrong with you, Hindus? At least Christians have the decency to only have ONE god to act stupid over. You've got like eighty thousand. Pick one, you indecisive sods! Stop trying to confuse us.
BUDDHISTS! What are they up to? Smiling and meditating all the time. They're planning something, crafty little bastards. And what's with the Dalai Lama? Get a new outfit!
SEVENTH-DAY ADVENTISTS! What the hell are you TALKING about? Crap!
JEHOVAH'S WITNESSES! GO AWAY! WE DON'T LIKE YOU!
BA'HAI! Oh like you're even a real religion. Look at that stupid apostrophe. You're stupid.
SIKHS! Get a haircut.
SCIENTOLOGISTS! Seriously? I mean, really? You're sticking with that? Really? Jesus Christ.
RAELIANS! Aliens? What sort of moron goes around babbling about aliens? People like you need to be restrained with leather straps. PSYCHOS! Don't come near my kids!
KABBALISTS! Look, we know why you picked Kabbalah, and we think it's PATHETIC.
ATHEISTS! Oh, you think you're so frigging clever, don't you? Well, know what? You're BORING. You just BORE us all, all the time. We LIKE church - if you don't like it, stick it up your arse. Go read one of your precious "books" and leave the decent people alone.
AGNOSTICS! Stop being such a bunch of old women. "Ooh, I don't really think we can tell either way, because we -" Oh just PICK ONE! Jesus you people get on my goddamn wick.
SHINTO! I don't even know what shinto is! It sounds bloody stupid though! I bet you're really stupid!
PAGANS! Oh come ON! We all liked fairytales when we were little - why don't you grow up, losers? Liking ugly clothes is not a religion!
WICCANS! Stop calling yourself Wiccans! We all know what you are, and we have the matches ready, Devil-whores!
ANIMISTS! You disgust me.
OK, I think we've covered most of the bases there. Please copy and paste this at the end of all my articles, and we should all be sweet.
And once again, I do apologise for any offence I may have given previously. Thank God the days of bias are over.
Or as my most eloquent critic, "maz", writes, "It is not my opion but a fact that you have absolutely no legs to stand on"
To sum up, "You'd never have the guts to make fun of Muslims" is the prevailing attitude.
Now, I realise that the response of some of you readers will be, "What? Are they serious? What kind of fat-brained, worm-faced imbecile would actually possess the dunder-witted gall to voice this argument, given that it's not only factually inaccurate, but an intellectually bankrupt slab of nonsense that rests upon the premise that criticism of the flaws of an ideology or institution is invalid unless accompanied by criticism of the flaws of all other possible ideologies and institutions, as well as the assumption that a commentator or satirist should spend equal time on every potential target for insults or mockery no matter how obscure, inconsequential, anonymous, or devoid of impact upon broader society they are compared to others which exert massive influence over life in this country, are constantly in the public eye, and have recently received blanket coverage in print and electronic media across the country - in other words, commenting on things that matter to one's audience is invalid unless it comes with comment on things that don't? I mean, who are the morons trying to make this thrice-cursed abortion of an argument?"
Pretty harsh there, readers. Rude, almost. You should probably exercise a bit more tolerance before opening your mouth, if the above is all you can say.
Because for my part, I accept my critics' point, apologise for the hurt caused, and have decided to mend my ways. I therefore include below a quick compendium of religious attacks, which can be assumed to be appended to every future article I write on the subject of faith or gods. Ahem:
MUSLIMS! Geez, aren't Muslims crap? Praying five times a day? Geez, get off your knees and do some work. And covering up your women? What are you, gay?
JEWS! Man, do they ever shut up? Seriously, we GET it, Jews; life is hard. Change the record. And stop thinking you're so funny; nobody likes a smart-arse.
PROTESTANTS! Wow, don't get me started on protestants! What's wrong, too gutless to go full-Catholic? Pussies. You're just Catholics with bad taste in music, wankers.
MORMONS! Just piss off, Mormons. Get away from my house, get some better haircuts, and stop believing in idiotic stories about magic glasses. Everyone's laughing at you, dickheads.
HINDUS! What the hell is wrong with you, Hindus? At least Christians have the decency to only have ONE god to act stupid over. You've got like eighty thousand. Pick one, you indecisive sods! Stop trying to confuse us.
BUDDHISTS! What are they up to? Smiling and meditating all the time. They're planning something, crafty little bastards. And what's with the Dalai Lama? Get a new outfit!
SEVENTH-DAY ADVENTISTS! What the hell are you TALKING about? Crap!
JEHOVAH'S WITNESSES! GO AWAY! WE DON'T LIKE YOU!
BA'HAI! Oh like you're even a real religion. Look at that stupid apostrophe. You're stupid.
SIKHS! Get a haircut.
SCIENTOLOGISTS! Seriously? I mean, really? You're sticking with that? Really? Jesus Christ.
RAELIANS! Aliens? What sort of moron goes around babbling about aliens? People like you need to be restrained with leather straps. PSYCHOS! Don't come near my kids!
KABBALISTS! Look, we know why you picked Kabbalah, and we think it's PATHETIC.
ATHEISTS! Oh, you think you're so frigging clever, don't you? Well, know what? You're BORING. You just BORE us all, all the time. We LIKE church - if you don't like it, stick it up your arse. Go read one of your precious "books" and leave the decent people alone.
AGNOSTICS! Stop being such a bunch of old women. "Ooh, I don't really think we can tell either way, because we -" Oh just PICK ONE! Jesus you people get on my goddamn wick.
SHINTO! I don't even know what shinto is! It sounds bloody stupid though! I bet you're really stupid!
PAGANS! Oh come ON! We all liked fairytales when we were little - why don't you grow up, losers? Liking ugly clothes is not a religion!
WICCANS! Stop calling yourself Wiccans! We all know what you are, and we have the matches ready, Devil-whores!
ANIMISTS! You disgust me.
OK, I think we've covered most of the bases there. Please copy and paste this at the end of all my articles, and we should all be sweet.
And once again, I do apologise for any offence I may have given previously. Thank God the days of bias are over.
Friday, July 9, 2010
We'll Only Have Ourselves To Blame
From the letters page of the Townsville Bulletin, a chilling warning that we would do well to heed, from Patriot Felix Scerri:
The government, clearly, has some very serious questions to answer:
1. Why do you keep letting in people who want to fundamentally change the basic make-up of Australian society?
2. When are you going to put up some impediments around our shores?
3. Why do you insist on making policy without any meaningful consultation with the Scerri family of Ingham?
Someday we will regret ignoring Felix's warning. Someday we will look back and realise: he knew it was an invasion, his family were unanimous on it, yet we were deaf, and now our basic make-up is changed and there's nothing we can do about it.
Don't say he didn't warn you.
Asylum seeking is 'stealthy invasion'
PRIME Minister Gillard wants Australians to freely express their true opinions regarding boat arriving asylum seekers without fear of the usual applied "labels" and I applaud her comments and sentiments and her apparent support of free speech. Simplifying things, I ’ll vote for anyone who will stop these people arriving, and secondly, send all past illegal boat arrivals back to their places of origin.
I feel that the majority of these people are not true asylum seekers. I believe that the real truth is somewhat more sinister and indeed dangerous.
Increasingly, I believe that these continuous boat arrivals are part of an ongoing and deliberate slow and silent invasion of our nation aimed primarily at fundamentally changing the basic make-up of Australian society to one where people of the Islamic faith are a major part.
Indeed around the world in recent years we have all seen the results in countries where a large infiltration of people of Islamic faith has been achieved, and Australia is heading down the same path, it would seem.
The ugly events surrounding the Cronulla riots some years ago show very clearly what we can expect from these asylum seekers of the Islamic faith once their numbers reach a certain threshold in the population.
While Islam is one of the world ’s great religions with aspects which I somewhat admire, sadly in the "real world" Islamic extremism has become associated with some unfortunate, violent and destructive realities, and with very good reason.
I was frankly shocked while watching the 7.3O Report on ABC TV the other night and Kerry O ’Brien detailed the large and accelerating numbers of "asylum seekers" who have easily reached Australian shores without any impediment at all in recent years.
As I watched with my family I asked them if these arrivals met the definition of an "invasion".
Everybody said 'yes'. I honestly hope that my fears are completely unfounded, however after very considerable thought on the subject, this is the only conclusion that I can come to. I think we should all be very concerned and worried.
FELIX SCERRI, Ingham.
The government, clearly, has some very serious questions to answer:
1. Why do you keep letting in people who want to fundamentally change the basic make-up of Australian society?
2. When are you going to put up some impediments around our shores?
3. Why do you insist on making policy without any meaningful consultation with the Scerri family of Ingham?
Someday we will regret ignoring Felix's warning. Someday we will look back and realise: he knew it was an invasion, his family were unanimous on it, yet we were deaf, and now our basic make-up is changed and there's nothing we can do about it.
Don't say he didn't warn you.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
You are so GROUNDED!
So apparently, a team of "evangelical explorers" have discovered what they believe to be the remains of Noah's Ark.
Ninety-nine point nine percent certain.
That it is.
Noah's Ark.
They found some wood on a mountain, and they are 99.9 percent certain that it is Noah's Ark.
That would be the ark built to house two of every animal on earth, gathered into one place in ancient Palestine to escape a flood that COVERED THE ENTIRE PLANET.
Hey, "evangelical explorers"!
"It's not 100 percent that it is Noah's Ark but we think it is 99.9 percent that this is it," Yeung Wing-cheung, a member of the team said.
Ninety-nine point nine percent certain.
That it is.
Noah's Ark.
They found some wood on a mountain, and they are 99.9 percent certain that it is Noah's Ark.
That would be the ark built to house two of every animal on earth, gathered into one place in ancient Palestine to escape a flood that COVERED THE ENTIRE PLANET.
Hey, "evangelical explorers"!
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
So GENEROUS of you!
Apparently the Pope has forgiven the Beatles
Phew! What a relief! I bet the Beatles had been pretty worried for the last 40 years, not knowing whether the Pope would let them off the hook. What with the Beatles being all such devout Catholics and all.
Except...
Not sure the Beatles ever actually ASKED the Pope for forgiveness, did they? Hmm.
Perhaps the Pope had the Beatles confused with this guy:
Phew! What a relief! I bet the Beatles had been pretty worried for the last 40 years, not knowing whether the Pope would let them off the hook. What with the Beatles being all such devout Catholics and all.
Except...
Not sure the Beatles ever actually ASKED the Pope for forgiveness, did they? Hmm.
Perhaps the Pope had the Beatles confused with this guy:
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Smarter than your average jar
The article which WAS here, on the subject of Gary Ablett's Herald Sun think-piece about evolution, peanut butter, and why it's science's fault he supplies massive amounts of drugs to women young enough to be his daughter, has been taken off the blog due to the piece being promoted to the ABC. Enjoy it there.
But while you're here, why not admire the great man's unique grace and athleticism. And, um, brains and stuff.
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But while you're here, why not admire the great man's unique grace and athleticism. And, um, brains and stuff.
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Friday, March 19, 2010
No, REALLY Hitting the Big Time
There are many kinds of success in this world.
There's financial success. There's career success. There's the success of raising a healthy, loving family.
But all of these are as scraps of pig slops to a strawberry cheesecake when compared to being publicly thanked by Andrew Bolt.
The fact that he later found out who I actually was, and is no longer even slightly positively-dispositioned towards me, does not diminish the honour. Neither does the fact he never really regarded me with any gratitude in the first place. Unfortunately the details are private. I'll tell you at the bar.
Incidentally, Bolt eventually did acknowledge the rather obvious error that in that post he had refused to acknowledge. I mean, he sort of acknowledged it. I mean, "I was wrong" is an acknowledgment, even if the post itself ends up being "I was wrong but still much more right than anyone else".
By the way, "reader TQS", Bolt may have thanked you, but you will never have what he and I have. It is special.
And then, of course, he has his "final last thought" (ooh, promise?) on the subject. Not quite sure what he's doing here. A few different options?
1. Bolt is suggesting that Pope Pius XII would have had his head cut off if he'd spoken out against the Holocaust.
2. Bolt is suggesting that because Dawkins won't speak out against Islamofascists, he is morally equivalent to someone who won't speak out against the Holocaust. He does this by referencing a quote wherein Dawkins speaks out against Islamofascists. He could have picked any quote of many, really. Dawkins slams Islamic extremists all the time.
3. By referring to Richard Dawkins as "the atheist al-Qaeda", Bolt is suggesting that promoting a petition asking for someone not be made a saint is morally equivalent to threatening to cut someone's head off.
You decide. I guess.
Today's homework: In 1000 words or less, compare and contrast the labelling of a Nazi-supporting Pope "Pope Nazi" with the labelling of an atheist scientist "atheist al-Qaeda". Extra points for those students who accurately ascertain the relative levels of barbarism present in each.
Incidentally, a round of applause for Bolt's work ethic: he started blogging at 7:01 am and didn't stop till 12:09 pm. You can't deny he's prolific. And if you did he'd call you a terrorist.
There's financial success. There's career success. There's the success of raising a healthy, loving family.
But all of these are as scraps of pig slops to a strawberry cheesecake when compared to being publicly thanked by Andrew Bolt.
The fact that he later found out who I actually was, and is no longer even slightly positively-dispositioned towards me, does not diminish the honour. Neither does the fact he never really regarded me with any gratitude in the first place. Unfortunately the details are private. I'll tell you at the bar.
Incidentally, Bolt eventually did acknowledge the rather obvious error that in that post he had refused to acknowledge. I mean, he sort of acknowledged it. I mean, "I was wrong" is an acknowledgment, even if the post itself ends up being "I was wrong but still much more right than anyone else".
By the way, "reader TQS", Bolt may have thanked you, but you will never have what he and I have. It is special.
And then, of course, he has his "final last thought" (ooh, promise?) on the subject. Not quite sure what he's doing here. A few different options?
1. Bolt is suggesting that Pope Pius XII would have had his head cut off if he'd spoken out against the Holocaust.
2. Bolt is suggesting that because Dawkins won't speak out against Islamofascists, he is morally equivalent to someone who won't speak out against the Holocaust. He does this by referencing a quote wherein Dawkins speaks out against Islamofascists. He could have picked any quote of many, really. Dawkins slams Islamic extremists all the time.
3. By referring to Richard Dawkins as "the atheist al-Qaeda", Bolt is suggesting that promoting a petition asking for someone not be made a saint is morally equivalent to threatening to cut someone's head off.
You decide. I guess.
Today's homework: In 1000 words or less, compare and contrast the labelling of a Nazi-supporting Pope "Pope Nazi" with the labelling of an atheist scientist "atheist al-Qaeda". Extra points for those students who accurately ascertain the relative levels of barbarism present in each.
Incidentally, a round of applause for Bolt's work ethic: he started blogging at 7:01 am and didn't stop till 12:09 pm. You can't deny he's prolific. And if you did he'd call you a terrorist.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Commenting on comments
You may have noticed on my latest ABC article that there are quite a few comments. Do take the time to trawl through them - diamonds they are. Anyway, having (belatedly) become smart enough to avoid arguing with stupid people who hate me, I'm going to muse on some of the comments here.
For example, "shane" writes:
"Anybody who follows Jesus as Lord & savoir according to the bible are saints"
Kind of a low standard, isn't it?
"If you pray to dead people this is called necromancy"
You mean like...Jesus?
"fed up" writes:
"Well i dont find this funny at all"
Damn...I've failed with a key demographic here.
"how sarcastic.
mr. Rudd has been going to Marys Chapel for some time
WHY O WHY ARE THE ABC PICKING ON OUR P.M.
SO MUCH ARE YOU ALL SERIOUS
CAN YOU DO BETTER AT COPENHAGEN I SUGGEST YOU CATCH THE NEXT PLANE
mary has anwered many a prayer for me you may laugh but i hope you dont need to prayer her soon for something that comes in your life.
i am fed up of the abc taking the mickey out of every one that does good in this country in couding out p.m TALL POPPY SYNDROM ITS ABOUT TIME THIS COUNTRY GREW UP
of course you all write this rubbish but then do you move on to the next thing without reading what we saY.
I WOULD SUGGEST TO OTHERS AND MYSELF NOT TO BOTHER BECAUSE I DOUBT YOU READ WHAT WE SAY.
AND IF WE DID NOT MAKE COMMENTS THEN THERE WOULD BE NO DRUM SO FROM NOW ON I AM NOT COMMENTING"
Now that my career has been destroyed by the mass grassroots "no commenting" movement, I guess I have some free time. So yeah, I WILL get on the next plane. And I will give those pollies a talking to, "in couding out p.m."
Hopefully the plane doesn't run into trouble, or I might have to prayer Mary MacKillop for something that comes in my life.
And then there's "Dazza":
"First of all God does not make mistakes, it is our fallen world that has caused all of this."
I wonder, when I hear someone express this sentiment, if you put the person in a nice quiet room and just left them there, without interruptions, for an indefinite length of time...would they eventually figure out what's wrong with their picture?
"ElijahThomas" chips in:
"like all anti-religion arguments yours demonstrates a woefully inadequate (even theoretical) understanding of God.
look at your own language...
"A God who knows the future is powerless to change it."
what of an author who has planned the end of his book? are they powerless to change it?"
Powerful, powerful analogy, Elijah. Now if you'd just step into this nice quiet room...
"DocMercury" changes the subject:
"One of the cures for cancer is known to be preventive rather than responsive, such as making it a habit to ingest or inhale zero dosage in toxins, avoiding aldehyde in the liver and benzene in the air.
So we're told, now that gambling excise more than makes up for lost nicotine excise, and the ethanol consumption remains constant."
Good point, Doc. You've really, er, cut to the heart of the article...um, there...
Last word goes to "John":
"Abbott will make a fine prime minister and I will be first in the queue to vote for him. Thumbs up!"
And you can NOT argue with that!
For example, "shane" writes:
"Anybody who follows Jesus as Lord & savoir according to the bible are saints"
Kind of a low standard, isn't it?
"If you pray to dead people this is called necromancy"
You mean like...Jesus?
"fed up" writes:
"Well i dont find this funny at all"
Damn...I've failed with a key demographic here.
"how sarcastic.
mr. Rudd has been going to Marys Chapel for some time
WHY O WHY ARE THE ABC PICKING ON OUR P.M.
SO MUCH ARE YOU ALL SERIOUS
CAN YOU DO BETTER AT COPENHAGEN I SUGGEST YOU CATCH THE NEXT PLANE
mary has anwered many a prayer for me you may laugh but i hope you dont need to prayer her soon for something that comes in your life.
i am fed up of the abc taking the mickey out of every one that does good in this country in couding out p.m TALL POPPY SYNDROM ITS ABOUT TIME THIS COUNTRY GREW UP
of course you all write this rubbish but then do you move on to the next thing without reading what we saY.
I WOULD SUGGEST TO OTHERS AND MYSELF NOT TO BOTHER BECAUSE I DOUBT YOU READ WHAT WE SAY.
AND IF WE DID NOT MAKE COMMENTS THEN THERE WOULD BE NO DRUM SO FROM NOW ON I AM NOT COMMENTING"
Now that my career has been destroyed by the mass grassroots "no commenting" movement, I guess I have some free time. So yeah, I WILL get on the next plane. And I will give those pollies a talking to, "in couding out p.m."
Hopefully the plane doesn't run into trouble, or I might have to prayer Mary MacKillop for something that comes in my life.
And then there's "Dazza":
"First of all God does not make mistakes, it is our fallen world that has caused all of this."
I wonder, when I hear someone express this sentiment, if you put the person in a nice quiet room and just left them there, without interruptions, for an indefinite length of time...would they eventually figure out what's wrong with their picture?
"ElijahThomas" chips in:
"like all anti-religion arguments yours demonstrates a woefully inadequate (even theoretical) understanding of God.
look at your own language...
"A God who knows the future is powerless to change it."
what of an author who has planned the end of his book? are they powerless to change it?"
Powerful, powerful analogy, Elijah. Now if you'd just step into this nice quiet room...
"DocMercury" changes the subject:
"One of the cures for cancer is known to be preventive rather than responsive, such as making it a habit to ingest or inhale zero dosage in toxins, avoiding aldehyde in the liver and benzene in the air.
So we're told, now that gambling excise more than makes up for lost nicotine excise, and the ethanol consumption remains constant."
Good point, Doc. You've really, er, cut to the heart of the article...um, there...
Last word goes to "John":
"Abbott will make a fine prime minister and I will be first in the queue to vote for him. Thumbs up!"
And you can NOT argue with that!
A Brave New World?
For those of you who haven't seen it yet, this is the first of what will, it would seem, be a series of weekly articles for the ABC's new site, The Drum (or The Drum Unleashed, or...something). Go check it out! I deal with Copenhagen, Rudd, Obama, Abbott, Joyce, and of course Mother Mary MacKillop
This does NOT mean I am leaving newmatilda - I remain the resident satirist at NM, long may their hit-count multiply. In that spirit, also go check out my end-of-year column for newmatilda, in which I look back at 2009 and make some bold predictions for 2010.
Also, keep looking out on newmatilda for another piece by me, part of the site's summer series. Maybe you should subscribe (for free!) so you NEVER miss a piece I write? Just a thought.
This does NOT mean I am leaving newmatilda - I remain the resident satirist at NM, long may their hit-count multiply. In that spirit, also go check out my end-of-year column for newmatilda, in which I look back at 2009 and make some bold predictions for 2010.
Also, keep looking out on newmatilda for another piece by me, part of the site's summer series. Maybe you should subscribe (for free!) so you NEVER miss a piece I write? Just a thought.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Fill in the blanks: Oh My Sainted _unt
So anyway, Mary MacKillop is set to become a saint, AUSTRALIA'S FIRST!
Now, far be it from me to distract from the orgy of patriotic pride that will undoubtedly spew forth like a great burst abscess at the canonisation of the dear lady,; I enjoy the assigning of nationalistic value to arbitrary decisions of the religiously insane as much as the next man.
HOWEVER
Given that the qualification for MacKillop's sainthood is the performance of two miracles...
And given that these two miracles were performed by Sister Mary many, many years AFTER her death...
And given PM Rudd's enthusiastic support for the canonisation and the fact he is sure to pontificate on the significance of the event when it comes...
Will ANY journalist have the guts to ask the obvious question, which is:
"Prime Minister, do you actually believe that the ghosts of dead nuns heal the sick, and if your answer is yes, do you think you are of sound mind to be in charge of a sharp kitchen utensil, let alone a country?"
Now, far be it from me to distract from the orgy of patriotic pride that will undoubtedly spew forth like a great burst abscess at the canonisation of the dear lady,; I enjoy the assigning of nationalistic value to arbitrary decisions of the religiously insane as much as the next man.
HOWEVER
Given that the qualification for MacKillop's sainthood is the performance of two miracles...
And given that these two miracles were performed by Sister Mary many, many years AFTER her death...
And given PM Rudd's enthusiastic support for the canonisation and the fact he is sure to pontificate on the significance of the event when it comes...
Will ANY journalist have the guts to ask the obvious question, which is:
"Prime Minister, do you actually believe that the ghosts of dead nuns heal the sick, and if your answer is yes, do you think you are of sound mind to be in charge of a sharp kitchen utensil, let alone a country?"
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Creepy Christians...
Just got a little bit creepier.
"SHE is only 16, but her parents believe a court carried out God's will when it said she could marry her 26-year-old boyfriend."
"The pair began courting when Lucinda was 14."
"They met seven years ago through her father, Greg Law, an elder of a 25- member band of vegetarian "independent Christians" who call themselves Manifold Ministries."
"Their love blossomed when Lucinda's father and Mr Ramsay began working together on an outreach program preaching against the "new-world order"."
"Mr Law said he noticed how attached his daughter had become to Mr Ramsay and decided to play matchmaker."
Healthy? I should say so!
"SHE is only 16, but her parents believe a court carried out God's will when it said she could marry her 26-year-old boyfriend."
"The pair began courting when Lucinda was 14."
"They met seven years ago through her father, Greg Law, an elder of a 25- member band of vegetarian "independent Christians" who call themselves Manifold Ministries."
"Their love blossomed when Lucinda's father and Mr Ramsay began working together on an outreach program preaching against the "new-world order"."
"Mr Law said he noticed how attached his daughter had become to Mr Ramsay and decided to play matchmaker."
Healthy? I should say so!
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