nunoncastors

Pay your webhost on time or they get upset.

In other news, I’ve added this to the site just because.

Welcome back.

Well?

I have risen, phoenix-like, from my deathbed in time to receive ova constructed of chocolate from a giant brightly hued rabbit. If I can find a pond to wander across or a prostitute to dry my feet with her hair I’ll be really sorted. I’m going to skip the whole nailed-to-a-cross-for-suggesting-we-all-be-nice-for-a-change (cheers Douglas Adams) ‘thing’ as the weather isn’t up to much.

I jest. I’m not really the new Jesus and I mean no offence to those who believe in him and his dad. All I’ll say is that most adults with imaginary friends possessed of superpowers tend to reside in institutions with soft, padded, walls where they can’t hurt anyone. A bit like churches I suppose, but more comfy.

Anyway, in this time of religious reflection (and chocolate eggs) a few things have occurred to me, screaming atheist that I am. You’re going to have to suspend belief for a moment and take the Bible at face value, assume that it isn’t largely nonsense and hearsay, and come with me as I journey through mystery to ponder the following.

1. Joseph, stepfather to the son of God, was he a gullible idiot?
2. God, rapist or divine intervener?
3. Where de women at?
4. Did Judas do us all a favour?

1. Starting at the beginning, and call me cynical if you like, but if my wife used the excuse that God had gotten her up the duff I’d be a little sceptical. I’d assume it was the milkman or that chap she’s friendly with at the grocers, possibly rue using the rhythm method but I wouldn’t, and this is perhaps just me being churlish, I wouldn’t believe her. Not in a million, million years. Not unless the celestial being himself was caught climbing out of the bedroom window or turned up one day when I was supposed to be out at work bearing a can of whipped cream and a cheeky grin.

When the three wise men turned up with presents I’d have gone mental and decked the lot of them screaming, “Which one of you is it eh? Which one? I’ll teach you to touch my wife you bastards!”

My response would most definitely not have been, “Oh ok. Cool. Would you like a cuppa? Son of God is he? Just wait until I tell the lads about this. Brilliant! He’s going to be amazing at sports day, I’m so happy.”

In my mind, the fact Joseph was cool about someone else having a go at his missus means one of two things. They were either a pair of swingers enjoying the most open relationship ever or he had no more intelligence than the donkey used to get Mary to the clinic. I know which answer works for me.

2. There’s recently been a big drive here in the UK along the lines of “If she’s too pissed to say yes and mean it, its rape you naughty man.” I admit that my memory of the Bible is mostly being forced to endure readings of it in assembly when I was at school (because I’m a good C of E boy me) but I’m fairly certain the divine creator didn’t ask Mary if she minded being impregnated with his God-seed. Now, following that train of thought as it careers off the rails; if you don’t get consent then surely that’s rape? The inevitable rapture aside, no means no doesn’t it?

Obviously that’s not counting those times when she says no, so you stop, then she gets angry because it was just a saucy game and she meant yes and now you’ve ruined the mood. So then you get confused trying to figure out the logic behind this and she pins you to the bed while you’re pondering it. You tell her to get off (even though you don’t want her to) and she refuses. So you sort of understand what’s going on but then the next time when she says no and you think you’ve got it figured out she gets angry because no means no so you say, “what?” and she says, “men!” and you just can’t win. Well, except for the times when she pins you to the bed, that’s definitely a victory but the rest is quite confusing.

Either way, I’m sure God didn’t have a licentious tussle with Mary as she was a married woman and the Bible frowns on that sort of thing or at least says something about oxen. Call it divine intervention if you like but servicing another man’s wife and lumbering the pair of them with a child, however holy, is dubious behaviour if ever I’ve heard it.

3. For a forward-thinking, peace and love sort of guy, Jesus only hung out with men and the occasional prostitute. I’m sure having a lady of the night dry your feet with her hair is cool and all, but it isn’t exactly peace, love and understanding-type behaviour. So how come all the disciples were chaps? You’d have thought the son of man would have been a little more open-minded (what with the whores and all) and let some ladies into the club.

4. Judas has always been painted as the bad guy. I think this is wrong. Why? Well, if you think about it, if Judas didn’t tell the fuzz who Jesus was then he wouldn’t have been nailed to a tree. Ergo he’d have carried on living instead of dying for all our sins and we’d be in a right state then wouldn’t we?

Besides, no one can stand a preachy sod can they?

On a side note, this is my 100th post rambling about any old shite and I’d like you all to know that I’m wearing my party hat in recognition of this. I insist you do the same.

AAAAAAAAAHHHH! BIRD FLU! DON’T PANIC! More people die falling down stairs in a year than from bird flu in the last 4. BIRD FLU! DON’T PANIC! HYSTERICAL MEDIA REACTION! BIRD FLU! DON’T PANIC! Only in danger if you go around licking geese. SKIPPING OVER RELEVANT FACTS IN FAVOUR OF SENSATIONALISING A STORY! DON’T PANIC! BIRD FLU! Please god panic so we have something to report. PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! PANIC!

This is what it was like for me, watching the news last night. Every channel, for at least thirty minutes each, declared panic, panic, panic while telling us not to. I counted the word used 27 times by the BBC alone. The level of coverage and hyperbole has been frankly staggering for something that doesn’t actually affect people unless they’re the sort that goes around buggering sparrows. There have been, in the last four years, around 200 cases of bird flu being transmitted to humans. Of these 200 around half of them died. The thing is, these people all worked or lived with birds, they owned farms full of them and lived in the arse end of nowhere up a mountain in a third-world country. You are more likely to be killed by a bus.

If it evolves into an airborne virus (which currently it isn’t) then maybe we should start to worry and have blanket media coverage. But for something that’s killed a swan and is only a threat to you if you’ve licked said swan, this is ridiculous and misleading. “Killer bird flu virus lands in Britain” screams The Times as it proudly displays a suitably ominous picture. Anyone would think the end times were up on us.

But remember. Don’t panic.