Category Archives: Religion

It’s that time of year again, when we are reminded that our state-endorsed religion is based on human sacrifice and cannibalism.  Quite where the chocolate, eggs, and bunnies come in, I’m not sure.  I’m also a bit puzzled by the connection between rabbits, which are mammals, and therefore do not lay eggs (the Easter platypus would make more biological sense).

Nevertheless, there are several morals to be drawn from the story.  One is that, according to the standard interpretation, you are so thoroughly evil and despicable that the most perfect person ever had to be horribly tortured and killed to redeem you.  Quite how that works seems unclear to me.  After all, if I steal a man’s wallet then I’m not sure how inflicting pain on some third party is likely to discourage, let alone punish, me.   Unless, along with their avowed fairy tale, they also mistake the Discworld novels for documentaries and subscribe to Lord Vetinari’s view that as there is crime there must also be punishment, and it is merely satisfyingly convenient if the perpetrator of one also receives the other.  Nor is it clear what particular transgressions of yours are being addressed – apparently it seems you were born with the guilt.

Another lesson is perhaps more practical and was pointed out by the wonderful Kurt Vonnegut, ‘Next time you decide to persecute a bum, make sure he doesn’t have good connections.’

Digressing slightly, (it’s my blog and I’ll ramble if I want to) I’m reminded of another Christian festival, Christmas.  A few years back I had to briefly entertain some friends of my mother.  One was a CofE cleric of the increasingly common ilk, i.e. a rather butch lesbian[1] with a penchant for domestic violence towards her partner and who seemed to regard poverty, chastity and obedience as optional extras.  My mother was absent, and I found myself floundering for topics of conversation with two comparative strangers. As it was late December, I happened to mention my long-standing dislike for Christmas.  Without bothering to enquire about my reasons (it’s my birthday for one thing, and a time of significant stress for me in several ways) this vicar assured me that the true meaning of Christmas survived the crass consumerism.  I was too polite (oh, who am I kidding? I just couldn’t be bothered) to point out that I had no problem with people enjoying an orgy of tawdry commercial hedonism[2], but I found the smug, sanctimonious, dishonest and hypocritical religious claptrap revolting.  Oh well, perhaps she was distracted by her conscience regarding her own very comfortable lifestyle which includes a central London pied-à-terre as well as a large country home, not to mention half a dozen foreign holidays a year.

Anyway, back to Easter, it’s great to see that the fine, traditional Christian virtues of poverty, modesty and humility are being maintained, as the photo above of a man in a rather stunning frock shows.

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[1] White, male, heterosexual, non-paedophiles, i.e. anyone who doesn’t feel the need to define themselves by a random pick-and-mix from a tin of alphabet spaghetti, must be feeling like an oppressed minority – perhaps it’s time for a campaign for their rights.

[2] Not my thing, but chacun à son goût.

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