Major uproar was sparked this week when someone with an important job suggested the Pope should open an abortion clinic, bless a homosexual marriage and launch his own range of condoms during his upcoming visit to the UK.
Of course to even insinuate that same sex relationships, or birth control to limit the spread of sexual disease, is acceptable in the 21st century is just so risque.
Through the ages the Catholic faith has long been the root of all evil. The no condom rules saw thousands of god-fearing parents dumping their young daughters, who had fallen pregnant out of wedlock, in Irish “Magdalene” asylums. The girls gave birth and remained incarcerated for life, working around the clock, never to see their children again. And the spare moments when they weren't working, they had the joy of a good round of sexual abuse from a heavenly father of the church, all expenses paid. What could be better?
And lets not forget the constant allegations against catholic priests doing "bad things" to young boys in their care. And all in the name of a non-existent deity.
Father Christmas may fly through the sky on magic reindeer delivering presents down the chimney pots of millions of children in 24 short hours. But this is far more believable than a man who can feed 5,000 hungry mouths with five loaves and two fish (bearing in mind Father C missed out an entire third world continent). Unless the fish were killer whales, or Jesus was feeding midgits, the story is just so unfeasible.
Walking on water? Turning it into wine? Jesus sounds like the David Copperfield of his day.
But back to Pope Benedict. Where is the morality in living in a magical world, more commonly known as the Vatican, surrounded by wealth and riches, while the paupers on the outskirts of the city can hardly afford to put food on the table?
Rape, greed, abuse, is this what God would have wanted? I think not. And the church should be the first to agree it’s a fucking blessing he doesn’t exist, or they’d be the first to be launched into the firey pits of hell.
Tuesday, 27 April 2010
Sunday, 17 January 2010
Earthquakes versus snow days
Switching on the news this morning to discover that the death toll following the Haitian earthquake is 200,000 and rising, should make us thankful for how easy we have life.
But the weather report that followed, in which the presenter’s opening lines were “if we can deal with what has been thrown at us over the last two weeks, we can deal with anything,” made it embarrassing to be British.
Is a smattering of snow and a shortage of salt really the ingredients of a national crisis? The icy roads gave some people a valid excuse to take a day off work, with a lucky few even being paid for the privilege. And those Haitian’s think they’ve got it tough.
But it was a photograph on page three of Friday’s Metro that made me thankful to have ditched the notebook and left the world of journalism behind.
Showing piles of corpses outside a mortuary, the picture carried the caption “families and rescuers brought the bodies there in the pathetic hope of some sort of dignity and a burial.”
Exactly what sort of “dignity” is it to have the lasting image of your life, a corpse, splashed across a newspaper thousands of miles from home? This is the typical sensationalist tripe, which encapsulates the morbid curiosity of a nation hungry for bad news.
This kind of disaster forces us put our lives into perspective. We sit worrying about getting a better job, meeting the perfect man (or woman) and generating enough cash flow to afford a nice little semi, two cars and organic milk.
Most of us have never gone hungry, have a roof over our heads, free healthcare and are safe in the knowledge that the Government will pay out should we lose our jobs. On the whole we’re a consumerist nation, which needs more and more cash only to satiate our materialism.
Yes it’s arguable that it’s all relative, but isn’t it about time that we sat back and were thankful for how easy we have it, stopped complaining about the weather and got on with living?
But the weather report that followed, in which the presenter’s opening lines were “if we can deal with what has been thrown at us over the last two weeks, we can deal with anything,” made it embarrassing to be British.
Is a smattering of snow and a shortage of salt really the ingredients of a national crisis? The icy roads gave some people a valid excuse to take a day off work, with a lucky few even being paid for the privilege. And those Haitian’s think they’ve got it tough.
But it was a photograph on page three of Friday’s Metro that made me thankful to have ditched the notebook and left the world of journalism behind.
Showing piles of corpses outside a mortuary, the picture carried the caption “families and rescuers brought the bodies there in the pathetic hope of some sort of dignity and a burial.”
Exactly what sort of “dignity” is it to have the lasting image of your life, a corpse, splashed across a newspaper thousands of miles from home? This is the typical sensationalist tripe, which encapsulates the morbid curiosity of a nation hungry for bad news.
This kind of disaster forces us put our lives into perspective. We sit worrying about getting a better job, meeting the perfect man (or woman) and generating enough cash flow to afford a nice little semi, two cars and organic milk.
Most of us have never gone hungry, have a roof over our heads, free healthcare and are safe in the knowledge that the Government will pay out should we lose our jobs. On the whole we’re a consumerist nation, which needs more and more cash only to satiate our materialism.
Yes it’s arguable that it’s all relative, but isn’t it about time that we sat back and were thankful for how easy we have it, stopped complaining about the weather and got on with living?
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