Friday 6 April 2012

Sign of the Cross

There is a green hill, far away. And with new planning laws coming soon, it’s destined to become a housing estate. It used to be just a short walk to the green hills; now it’s a chariot ride away, but, Judas had sold his chariot for a bag of magic beans. When his mum found out she was so cross she ruined the hot buns she’d just made and threw them into the yard where they fed five thousand hungry birds, one of which was a white dove (who preferred peas).

Jesus, the Mexican gardener, heard the commotion  and interrupted his Easter break to see what all the fuss was about. He was understandably annoyed because Easter was his favourite holiday; he loved bunny-wabbits and chickadees and chocolate eggs of course – who doesn’t – but he also liked the fact that he could have 16 days off in a row while only taking eight annual leave days.

Such canniness was why, faced with a dilemma, people who drove cars with fish badges on them would ask each other, “What would Jesus do?” Well, what he did was come back to clear up the mess caused by Judas’s mum’s ire. He shouldn’t have bothered. The next door neighbour, Lazarus, who was so lazy he hadn’t been off his arse in weeks was furious, so he’d got out of  bed - a miracle in its own right - and called out the local cops and they’d sent a centurion who was busy nailing down anything that moved.

Well, what with all the mess, ire* and everybody getting cross it’s little wonder it all ended up the way it did. “Whoops!” said the centurion, hastily hiding his hammer.

To commemorate and commiserate, to this day the government reminds us of Jesus’ fate by hammering us with tax… which makes us cross. And as a sign of how cross it makes us, some choose to wear a little crucifix. Or put a fish on their car.

You may find this a surprise but I’m no great a believer in anything beyond what is scientifically verifiable. I don’t go with God, but neither do I believe in witchcraft, aromatherapy, crystals, faith healing, homeogullibility or any other such mountebankery. A Belieber I am not, But if you do have a faith and choose to show it modestly, where’s the issue? 

The government bends over backwards to allow burkas – an appearance both alien and slightly threatening to most native Britons. Nobody has suggested stoning Goths on sight for being ridiculous. Hell you can’t even get arrested for putting your pre-teen daughter in a ‘pornstar’ tee-shirt! We allow all sorts of personal expression – idiocy, anti-social tendencies, even extreme social views – they all have a uniform and accoutrements. We even allow people to alter their appearance, often for sinister or intimidating intent. So what in the name of anything that is holy is all this about?

Isn't it about time, in the words of Malcolm Tucker, to just tell Europe to fuck the fuck off?

Oh and what happened to Jesus? It was but a flesh wound and he was back at work by Monday.

(* mess+ire? See what I did there? Honestly, I'm wasted on you lot! :o) )

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